#doesn't even acknowledge the other platform bc no.

[3-aem]

My gut instinct tbh that twitter is going to die potentially as a service very soon if elon doesn't get it together but part of me hopes or thinks it's not going to stay dead. Simply bc there's a lack of platforms available that fit it's niche which is highly desired.

And i also want to talk about the sheer comedy of a man whose ego is so inflated he thinks that after firing half their colleagues and working the remainder like dogs for a month giving them an ultimatum to either quit or continue to be worked to death would do anything??

[sugawarassoulmate]

Oml what about loser! kuroo thigh fucking bully!reader bcs she mad at him smth?

omg omg omg omg loser!kuroo being incredibly horny but reader is so pissed off him that she doesn't even want to give him a handy or let him eat her out sksksk

words: 489 cw: fem!reader, intercrural sex/thigh sex, humiliation, crying, implied oral (f receiving) minors dni

"please, please, baby i'm sorry," he rambles, tears streaming down his face as he says anything to feel the warm comfort of your cunt again. but you don't even acknowledge him as you scroll through tiktok.

that's probably the worst of it. you won't throw an insult his way, seemingly unfazed by the big man on top of you, folding your body in half as he desperately tries to get off by sliding his heavy cock between your thighs.

kuroo doesn't know what he did to be on the receiving end of your ire but it must have been bad enough if you weren't even looking at him. he offered to give you pleasure instead but you wouldn't let him shove his head between your thighs.

instead, you spread your legs for him and gave kuroo a look that said "you're lucky i'm giving you this," before turning your attention to your phone.

"i'll do anything, please i'm sorry," he whines, his thrusts getting sloppier. the touch of your skin does enough to get him off judging by the slippery mess he leaves between the plush of your thighs. but nothing would ever compare to the feeling of burying his cock so deep within you that he nearly passes out.

but you give him nothing except a bored sigh. not even a quirk of your eyebrow or a glance in his direction. you were letting him use you like a toy—something for kuroo to use to get off.

it pained him but also made him so fucking hard.

"oh my—fuck, baby," he gasps, pathetically wiping his tears away as he presses your thighs harder against his cock, increasing his pleasure. "please let me eat you out. let me fuck you. let me do something. it's not the same if i can't make you feel good too, baby...fuck!"

kuroo's cum covers your thighs and spills onto your stomach. for someone who complained about it not being enough, he was able to make an absolute mess of your lower half. his entire body shakes above you and he’s sure you can feel the stray tears hitting your skin.

“i’m sorry, let me—let me just make it better, please,” he breathes, head laying on your chest as he tries to collect himself. he’s so weak for your body that even your thighs can get him to cum that hard, how shameful.

but you don’t give kuroo the time to reflect. for the first time that night, he feels your hands on him. your fingers pull at his hair to push him away and show him the mess in between your legs. most of his cum dripped down to your pussy, painting it white with his seed.

your beautiful, haunting eyes bore into his and kuroo knows what to do without you uttering a single word. and suddenly all of the shame is worth it when he hears a gasp leave your lips.

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[riaki]

— last train at 25 o' clock | suguru geto x reader fluff(???)/light angst @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat please take this bc coffee shop geto is gonna take a bit

it's 1am in the morning, the train platform's a ghost town, and the hum of the vending machine is all the noise in the world as you and suguru wait for the last ride home after a mission.

wc : 2.6k cw : brief mentions of blood ; references to hidden inventory arc , shoko typical smoking , probably some other stuff i'm forgettin not proofread!!!! also he may be ooc srry

i cooked this up last minute cus i remembered my promise of posting every weekend last week so my bad if u can tell its rushed lol post hidden inventory pre defection

suguru remembers it like it was yesterday.

the song of summer insects reaches your ear as you clamber up to the train station platform; a pandemonium of cicadas and crickets that sing odes to the full moon in the sky partially curtained by dark clouds and the dew on the grass that's begun to form.

"damn, it's hot." you muttered, wiping your forehead as your arm shot out to grab the dirty railing, white paint cracked and peeled as a splinter pricks your fingers and you flinch. suguru follows after you; a small hum is your acknowledgment.

"careful. shoko doesn't like dealing with splinters," he says from behind you, stepping up the stairs two at a time to straighten up on the train platform, hands in his pockets. “i don’t have reversed curse technique healing either.” there's the smell of a storm in the air, and the lights overhead buzz and flicker with the intermittent beat of a moth's wings. you just give a dip of your head in acknowledgement as you pry your hand away from the railing, the scent of old wood lingering on your hand as you wipe off the dust clinging to your palm on your pants.

(geez, you two have no sense for these types of things.)

suguru holds a hand out, and you take it eagerly to let him pull you up the last step, before politely letting go and slipping it back into his pocket once more. you let out an exhausted sigh and stand up, rubbing your tired eyes as you look around.

the platform is deserted save for the stray cat beneath the station bench, sniffing at a clump of weeds growing from the metal leg. there's a vending machine up against the wall to the elevator, an obnoxious painted 'out of order' sign on the lift's muddy glass doors, stained with dust, dirt, and fingerprints. there's some... creative graffiti on the wall, and a starch yellow section of caution tape flutters in the humid evening wind.

the cat scratches at the concrete floor, and its matted white fur and crystal blue eyes remind you of someone. you glance up at suguru, poking his arm to get his attention.

"look. it's satoru." you huffed, still a little loose for breath as you reach out and grab his shoulder, leaning against him for support. the dark-haired boy just laughs a little, taking his phone out to snap a picture and no doubt send it to the white-haired brat. "i see it." he leans a little closer to you; it's subtle, and you don't notice it, but the way his shoulders sag just so you have an easier time holding on speaks volumes. "don't send it to him! he's probably asleep right now. think it's past his evening sugar high?" you asked, glancing up at him with a tilt of your head.

"most likely. i think he got sent on another solo mission today." there's a tiny bitter bite to suguru's voice that underlines its usual velvetiness; like an ocean current beneath the waves that you only find once you've been dragged underwater. you don't say anything about it, though. the sleeves of his uniform crumple beneath your fingers when they curl into the fabric, a shiver running down your spine as goosebumps spring up on your skin like shroom caps after the summer rain.

suguru is observant.

"you cold? you can have my jacket." it's immediate, and his voice is as smooth as cream silk and marble as he shrugs your hand off (much to your dismay-- shown with a bite to your cheek) to unbutton his uniform jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and offering it to you. when you stand there, feeling a little daze and a lot tired, he just smiles, shoving it in your face with a low chuckle that sounds like honey pouring from a jar.

"you sure? you can hug a cursed spirit if you get cold, 'cus you're not getting it back." you sighed after a moment, reluctantly taking his jacket and tugging it over your shoulders. it's warm, and it smells like his cologne- like some natural incense that soothes your nerves and loosens your body to the marrow in your weary bones. you bury your nose in it and forget to think about the warm hue on your cheeks that you'll later chalk up to the humid air.

"i'm sure." the cat by the bench perks up, staring directly in your direction. it yawns, before bounding away, disappearing behind the vending machine with a flick of its cloud white tail. the machine is missing a few rows of drinks, but the green of a melon soda can that's far too saturated to have a name to the original fruit and the cream and red of a yakult bottle are enough to catch your eyes beneath the harsh light of the display.

"still don't understand how you get cold on a night like this, though." he makes a gesture towards 'this' with one hand, fingers flexing in a way that makes your heart flutter unreasonably.

a moment of silence passes; you can see the distant lights of some prefecture over the hill, and your mind briefly wanders to rainy afternoons, puddles reflecting the red neon of passing cars and distorted faces under plastic umbrellas sandwiched between painted concrete and a dark sky.

"you want a drink? on me, as thanks." you say, breaking the sound of silence and nodding towards the vending machine as you look up at suguru. it takes him a moment to respond, so you use the opportunity to admire his profile; the slope of his nose, the deep hazel of his eyes that shine a copper rust beneath the pale yellow light overhead. his hair is a little messy; it's falling out of its slicked back bun, a product of your earlier fight. there's a scrape on your ankle from tripping through the bush in an attempt to put distance between the curse when you had been engaged earlier; it still stings. there's a tightness to his jaw, you notice- and some part of you wishes you could take it for yourself.

the section of dark hair in front of his face sways as he turns to look down at you, gaze charting the corners of your face (your cheeks look soft, he notes) before he opens his mouth to speak.

one kick to the machine, a disappointed frown when nothing comes out, and two yen bills later, the pop of can tabs fills your ears as condensation seeps into your skin, a pleasant relief from the heaviness of the summer air. it's too much when the cold side of a drink is pressed to your cheek, though-- and you let out a yelp of protest, shooting a quick glare up at suguru, who just laughs it off and takes a sip of his drink.

you down a sip of your own; it's a sweet fruit tea that's your go to whenever it's hot out. sweet, citrusy, like starfruit. it tastes like a summer of youth and a warm blue spring. it's pleasant.

a distant rumble echoes from the dark horizon, and both of your gazes simultaneously snap towards it-- at last, you think. the last train is here. you adjust suguru's jacket around your shoulders, catching a whiff of something that smells like rosemary and new leather as his voice fills your ears.

it's an easy night when you pass the threshold and step into the train car, speckled white floors and blue hard seats greeting you. somewhere, there's a ticket stuffed into one of your pockets; a memento of late evenings that blend into early mornings when there's a bruise on your face and a knick on suguru's wrist that soothe themselves with the harmony of small talk and sensation of fizzling bubbles in cold metal cans as the train jostles you along. you're sitting, and he's standing, one arm on the hangers overhead as you talk about everything and nothing. he catches himself every now and then, watching with minimal interest as the sliding doors part themselves like gateways to the afterlife for ghost passengers. it's not your stop yet; far from it.

"say, suguru-- do you miss going on missions with satoru?" you asked after a moment, fingers drumming against your knees as the automated voice overhead announces the next stop, empty farm plots and tangles of wire passing by as the lights inside cozy houses dim and go off.

he doesn't answer that, so you just look out the window.

(suguru, you gettin' enough sleep? heatstroke?)

"how's the cut on your leg?" he finally murmurs after a moment, his eyelids heavy before he tears his gaze away from a tacky advertising on the wall and back to your scrunched nose.

"annoying." you just sighed, and you watched as he gave a small smile; his eyes fluttering shut, long lashes resting against his cheeks. you wondered if the wings of a butterfly would be heavy enough to weigh them down.

he moves after a second, sitting down one seat away from you in a swift motion and beckoning for you to lift your leg. you comply, not entirely sure where it's going- until he gently rolls the hem of your pant leg up, pressing the cold edge of his half-empty soda to the angry red scratch, and you wince a little before letting out one, long sigh. you melt into the chair, feeling like a senior citizen with a hunched back and one too many shrine visits under a bleached kyoto sun.

"thanks." you mumbled, leaning your head against the window as the train jostles ever so slightly to its own tracked rhythm.

he just hums in response, pulling a worn bandaid out of his pocket; the plastic top has pen smudges on it and the white wax gets caught between his pearly teeth as he tugs it off, taking time to make sure he positions the healing strip properly before flattening it down on your leg.

"shoko makes no sense when she talks about her reversed curse technique, so this'll do." he says quietly, and you let yourself fall into the pool of molasses that comes from his throat as you close your eyes, feeling the dull sensation of pain drain from your muscles and melt away like the first waves of spring and the ripple of lake water as a lone sakura petal disturbs the mirrored blue surface.

"i could learn it." you said after a moment, pressing your lips together in an attempt to snuff out the feeling of his fingers lingering on your skin, toying with the loose edge of the bandaid. he just snorts, and you crack one eye open to glare at him.

the rest of the train ride is spent in silence; you slip in and out of a hazy sleep, and you're faintly aware of the timeline-- somehow, your drink ends up on his lips. your head ends up on his shoulder, and your ears pick up his quickened heartbeat. his warmth is nothing like the humidity that clings to your skin like a layer of smoke and vapor, accompanied by sticky dango and raucous laughter weaving between the sounds of fireworks and the crunch of dirt beneath pairs of geta. he smells like home and his soft hair tickles your face as your little breaths squeeze past your parted lips, a warmth like bumping shoulders and linking fingers seeping into your body like the steady stream of fine sand in an hourglass. a warmth like empty classrooms lit by golden hour; windows cracked open to let in a fresh breeze as the faint smell of cigarette smoke drifts up to the room from the brunette and her lighter beneath the patch of shade from a tree in the courtyard below.

(need a light?)

this is how it's been for the past month. tired mumbles and hushed murmurs exchanged between two people who are more than friends but less than lovers after each harrowing mission; shared drinks and linked pinkies, the warmth that stains cheeks rosy when fingers that look small against calloused ones brush with another hand reaching for the metal pole on the train. heavy silence as you fall asleep on his shoulder; faint tingles when his fingers graze your knuckles as he stares at the dark reflection in the windows across. even the windows know how to make him relax.

one day, it'll be just him. a white bird stained black by apollo's hand in a sea of dirty geese, silent as the others hawk and squawk for a place on the lake. one hand hooked around the hard plastic of a hanger, supporting heavy shoulders with weight that could rival atlas' burden. a boy so tired of being beaten by the waves that he succumbs to the undercurrent with the same practice as before, only the paint on the railings has chipped past repair and not even the greenery of the countryside can touch the stains on the windows to his soul; eyes that used to shine with mirth and crinkle with gentle smiles become sunken and heavy with experience more suited to those a decade older.

he'd already chosen his path when he offered his jacket to you; when he laughed at the way you'd sneezed after investigating the patch of weed that had captured the stray cat's attention from before. and he knew that you'd noticed, and he knew that you'd try, and he knew that he wouldn't let you.

he knew when he woke you up with a gentle nudge to the forehead, suppressing the fluttering feeling in the heart he didn't know he still had when you made a grumpy tired face and stood up with much effort and a stumble or two.

(damn monkeys.)

it was easy nights like these that he'd eventually miss the most. walking you back to your dorm, past the candy wrappers and empty cola cans in the halls stained with imaginary blood and passing glances. departing with a kiss goodbye when he knew you were too drowsy and delirious to be able to remember it come morning.

the swing of a jazz rhythm would get stuck in his throat when you stumbled, only catching yourself from the jolt of the train's stop by latching a hand onto his wrist like some evil little lamprey and muttering a small 'sorry'. he'd laugh it off, collect the empty bottles of drinks of debt, and tug on the sleeve of his jacket on your arms, gently helping you off the platform as your pant leg slid back down to cover the bandaid on your leg, rough fabric scratching away the ghost of his touch on your skin. he wished it would just stay for a little longer.

and when the morning came and you woke up in your bed with his scent on the fabric of your shirt, you'd do it all over again. the only part of the terrible cycle he ever took pleasure in. even when the vile taste of a cursed spirit sunk into his stomach, it would be washed away with the right pop and fizzle of sugary drink followed by an even sweeter kiss to the knot between his tired eyes.

there was nothing about your time together he wouldn't ever miss.

you'd be his past, his present, and his afterlife. even when it was his turn to get off the ghost train and step past those sliding doors that held new meaning, you were the last thought on his mind.

one day, he hopes to see you again, when the last train comes in the night so late it could be considered early morning and the platform can relive old memories of peeling paint on a past summer spring once more.

hope u guys enjoyed the catoru cameo my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[bookworm551]

Take the Edge Off | Part 6 | The Bet (1/2)

When you want to join Miguel for a mission, he places a bet with vague and undoubtedly devious stakes against you.

A/N: I am alive!!!! And I am so sorry this to forever to get done. I had to cut this part in half bc it was fixin to be 12k words long 😅 but the good news is that the next part is practically done and should be posted within a day. Anyways enjoy. If it feels rushed, that’s bc it is.

Warnings: full disclosure, there is no smut in this part (boooooooo) but! The next part is like 90% smut to make up for it :)

5.1k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

The loss of Earth-2319 changed the atmosphere of the compound. Everyone mourned together in their own ways, and everyone was itching to help catch the anomaly that had caused such massive destruction. Initially, you had been willing to honor Miguel's boundary of not going on missions together. However, when you had seen the recorded simulation of Earth-2319's demise, you felt sick to your stomach.

It had started as one person glitching. Soon after, another glitched, and then another, until everybody was was writhing on the ground in pain and one-by-one all began disappearing. All of the colors contorted in sharp flashes all across the cityscape. You had to look away as confused and terrorized screams tore through the air until there was nothing left except a black screen.

After that, you were determined to be on the team to take down the anomaly. He was smart and elusive, and Spider-Byte and Lyla were both working constantly to track him down, and once they could isolate his location, Miguel and his selection of Spiders would pounce.

Still, it was going to be a challenge getting Miguel to change his mind about letting you come. The day after watching the horrifying footage of Earth-2319, you found him in the control room alone and decided it was the best chance you were going to get to convince him.

He was busy typing away at his monitors when you slung yourself up onto the platform. "Always working," you commented as you approached him from behind. He didn't stop his work to acknowledge your presence. "What do you want?" He asked in a short tone. He had been sharper in his words and attitude to everyone after the incident, even you.

"I just want to talk," you told him casually. His fingers never stilled, and he grunted in response. "I'm working," he told you flatly. You sighed dramatically. "You're always working," you repeated. "When was the last time you slept?"

He didn't answer you for a moment. "None of your concern," he said finally. You raised an eyebrow at him. "That answer is concerning," you said skeptically. "It's starting to get late, why don't you get some rest or take a break?"

He huffed in irritation. "And do what? Sit around and chat with you?" He asked sarcastically. That stung a little bit. "Don't be mean," you told him as you crossed your arms defensively. "I know you have a lot on your plate, but that doesn't mean you can snap at me."

He didn't reply, and his fingers still worked tirelessly at his keyboards. You sighed again. He didn't seem to be in a very generous mood, but you were still determined to be on the team.

You moved to sit on the space next to his keyboard. Though his eyes never moved away from his screen, you could tell he was watching you from his peripheral vision. "We don't have to talk," you told him with in a mischievous tone. "We could do other things instead." Maybe that would soften his resolve. Maybe he just needed to release some tension before he would be receptive to your request.

His fingers finally paused, and though he still didn't look at you, you knew you had his attention. Slowly, as if not to startled him, you reached over and grabbed him by the arm. He let you pull him away from the screens to stand in front of you. He finally raised his eyes to meet yours as you slowly ran your hands up and down his forearms.

"It's okay to give yourself some rest," you told him quietly. "We can go back to mine." His face remained neutral, but he let out a deep sigh. "I'm trying to formulate a plan and a team for the anomaly," he stated, and you noted how exhausted he sounded.

"I could help with that," you offered smoothly, a sly smile spreading across your face. You could see the interest in his eyes at your statement. "Oh, really?" He asked, a barely-perceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "And how's that?"

You bit your lip for a second as you steeled yourself to say what you wanted to say. Given how touchy he had been lately, you weren't sure how he was going to react to you. "You could add me to the team," you finally offered.

Any hint of softness immediately evaporated from his face. "No," he said sternly. "I told you before that you're not allowed to come on missions with me anymore." You let out a disappointed sigh as he pulled his arms away from your hands. "This is different," you insisted. "Everyone wants in on this mission, and so do I."

"And I should let you because we sleep together?" He guessed flatly. You rolled your eyes with an annoyed huff. "No, you should let me because I'm good," you countered. "A lot of them are good," he argued, "and I'm not letting most of them join."

"No, you know I'm good," you countered. "You're going to need me." His eyes narrowed marginally. "I don't need anyone," he shot back. "I could do this alone, but it's smarter to take more people and only the best." He turned away from you to resume his work on his monitor again with a sour expression.

"I am one of the best," you insisted stubbornly. "You know that, too. I've got one of the highest mission success rates, and my stealth is unmatched." It was true. There may be other Spiders who have unique abilities, but you boasted some of the best work out of all of them.

"I could match you," Miguel stated arrogantly. You raised an eyebrow at his remark and said, "No, I don't think even the great Miguel O'Hara could find me if I didn't want to be found." Miguel's working fingers paused, and his head tilted just barely as a thought occurred to him.

"Care to find out?" He asked, his eyes sliding over to your face.

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you mean?" You asked slowly. He studied your face for a moment, and you noticed the corner of his lips quirk upward ever so subtly. "You think you can hide from me?" He questioned. "How about we put it to the test."

Your eyes lit up as you understood his challenge. "You want to try to find me?" You asked. "Like hide and seek?" He looked down at you with a disapproving furrow of his brow. "That's a childish comparison," he remarked. You smirked and replied, "But in essence, it's like hide and seek." He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and admitting, "Fine, like hide and seek but with stakes."

You couldn't resist the smile growing on your face. "If you can't find me, I get to go on the mission," you assumed. Miguel gave a slow nod. "Yes," he conceded, earning an eager grin from you. "Alright," you accepted, "and what's in it for you?" Miguel tilted his head as he looked down at you with a smirk.

"When I find you," he began in a low voice, "I get to do whatever I want to you."

You felt a little thrill flutter up in your stomach. Staring up at him, you could see in his eyes that he was imagining you in a hundred different ways of submission. What sort of things did he have in his mind to do to you? As much as you wanted to be on the anomaly operation, a part of you wanted to find out what would happened if you lost the bet.

"Deal."

Miguel's smirk grew fractionally as he gazed down at you quietly for a moment. "What happened to being busy?" You asked playfully. He gave a small shrug. "You wanted me to take a break," he pointed out. "We better make it worth it."

You smirked at his response as he turned away after a moment to look at his dimensional watch. "Pick a universe," he told you. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Any universe?" You clarified. He nodded and explained, "So you don't accuse me of cheating when I find you."

You rolled your eyes at his comment and thought back to all the different Earths you had been to. After a moment of contemplation, you said, "Earth-57218." It had been the universe you had traveled to on your very first mission, and it's strange beauty left you with a feeling of awe that had yet to be replicated.

Miguel typed in the code for Earth-57218, and the portal appeared before you both. "I'll give you 15 minutes," he said. "Then I'm going in after you." "15 minutes?" You repeated apprehensively. You had been expecting a little more of a head start than that.

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that too difficult?" He asked smugly.

Oh, he knew how to get to you, and you lifted your chin defiantly and shot back, "Please, if anything, that's too easy." You immediately regretted saying it because you knew exactly what he was going to say back. "Too easy?" He repeated, feigning surprise. "We'll make it 10 minutes, then."

Dammit.

"Fine," you said, trying to hide the regret behind your stubborn pride. Now, you were going to have to be smart about how to moved through the city. No sightseeing, you had to focus on beating Miguel. You typed in a 10-minute timer onto your gizmo before looking back up at Miguel. "And how long do you have to look before you lose?" You questioned.

He seemed amused by your question. "I won't lose," he responded confidently. "But if it makes you happy, then you'll have until dark." You quickly judged how long until it was dark and figured you had a little more than 2 hours to avoid being found.

"Alright," you agreed. "I'll see you then."

Miguel only watched with a smug grin as you started your timer, and with a quick wink, you stepped into the portal.

Earth-57218 was just as stunning as you remembered. The sky there was almost lilac in color, and the buildings seemed almost like paintings that covered the city. Even the sounds of traffic were almost musical. It was truly a beautiful world.

It took all of your concentration to keep from using up your 10-minute head start to just stare at the city. You immediately began swinging through the air, desperate to put as much distance between you and that portal. Miguel was undeniably good at finding his targets, and you wished again that you hadn't let your pride lessen the time you had to hide from him.

Something you had to keep in mind was the advantages that Miguel had over you. He had a keen sense of smell and a killer intuition, and while you were good at blending in, you were going to need to surround yourself with as many people as possible. Not a problem in a city like this.

Even in the early evening, the streets were packed full of people. You soared above them as you swung from building to building, thinking of places you could go to better conceal yourself from him. Beneath you, the pedestrians seemed like trails of ants all bustling about. Where could you go to hide yourself?

You paused your swinging as you perched at the edge of a building to think. There were 8 minutes left on your timer, and you felt the pressure to win weigh down on you. Even from the great height you were at, the sounds of the city filled the air—people, sirens, horns, performers. You wished you could just spend some time exploring the city without the pressure of your bet.

With that thought, an idea occurred to you. "Hey, Lyla?" You called out, not sure if Miguel included the AI program in your new suit. To your surprise and relief, Lyla's yellow form appeared in front of you. "What can I do you for?" She asked cheerfully, looking at you through her heart-shaped glasses.

"I need to blend in," you told her. "Can I modify the suit for civilian wear?" Lyla shrugged. "Sure," she said causally. "What's your style? We have preppy, athletic, business, punk, even gothic." As she spoke, your suit disappeared and was replaced by several different outfits that matched the styles that Lyla had offered.

"Uh, athletic is good," you decided quickly, still conscious of the time ticking away on your watch. Your image flickered until you found yourself wearing what looked like leggings and a dry-fit shirt. Perfect. "Thanks, Lyla," you said gratefully. "Not a problem," she replied with a salute before disappearing.

You dropped down from the edge of the building, catching yourself at the last second before hitting the ground. When you landed in the streets, you immediately joined the current of people who didn't seem to pay you any mind. Keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, you finally found what you were looking for.

Just like in your own city, there were stairs that descended into what you hoped would be a complex subway system. There was already a massive amount of people bustling about trying to get to their lines, and you noted with pleasant surprise that there were no turnstiles or payment stations. Completely free public transportation, just another reason to love Earth-57218.

You had no real destination in mind, so you just followed the crowd around you and stepped aboard the first train that arrived. Once the doors had closed, you checked your watch. 1:09 and counting. Now, you could only hope that this would work.

Looking up from your watch, you took in the sight of the people on the subway with you. A sea of faces filled the space around you, and you observed each and every one of them with interest. There was a girl across from you reading a book with long pink braids that contrasted sharply with her dark skin. Sitting next to her was an old woman with her large purse resting on her lap, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. A business man stood to your left, his clothes pressed and clean as he spoke on the phone in Mandarin. On your right, a young man and woman stood together. You noticed how the girl showed him something on her phone, and together, they started laughing quietly. The woman took her phone back, but the man was still staring at her face with a warm smile, and the love he felt for her was painfully evident in his eyes.

Seeing such a wide diversity of people all around all at different points in their life filled you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You felt like an imposter sitting amongst these normal civilians simply going about their lives. How different would your life be had you not been bitten by that spider all those years ago? Would you be in a successful career by now, not hindered by the endless fatigue that plagued you from your late-night hero work? Would you be carefree and fun if not for the responsibility that came with your power?

Looking back at the young couple, you felt a pang of longing in your chest. You had never been able to settle into a long-term relationship since becoming Spider-woman. The secrets, the late nights, the missed dates, it was all too much for any relationship to survive. Many times, you wondered how you would look at the end of your life—old, gray, and alone. Sometimes, you wondered if you would even make it that far, or if maybe one day, there would be a villain you just couldn't beat. All of these thoughts were like an ever-present cloud in your mind, and there was no way for you to ever communicate it to anyone else. There was nobody who understood what it meant to be you.

But Miguel did.

The thought was like a whisper in your ear. Miguel knew what you had sacrificed. He felt the suffocating weight of being a hero, too. He understood the loneliness that consumed you every day. You could tell yourself that you had only started this undefined, physical relationship out of boredom, that it was just because he was hot and you were horny, but deep down, at the bottom of that calloused thing you called a heart, you knew you longed for a sense of companionship with him.

But what could you have with him beyond the occasional late-night liaison? His work was just as important to him as yours was to you, and neither of you had the time to give to each other the way you wished you could. Besides, Miguel was even more guarded than you were, and other than the brief moments laying on the pillows together as your bodies were buzzing with endorphins, he never seemed willing to let down that guard for you.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the swell of people leaving the subway. Looking around, you realized you had passed all the stops and reached the end of the line, and it was about to start heading back down again. You quickly stood, still reeling from the disconcerting thoughts, and exited onto the platform.

You moved through the crowd as fast as you could without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Miguel was undoubtedly somewhere in the city looking for you, and you felt the pressure of his pursuit in your mind. You really wanted to go on that mission.

Now, you had maybe an hour and a half to kill before it was completely dark. What to do, oh what to do. Emerging from the subway stairs, you were immediately swept away by the bustling crowd. You followed down the sidewalk of a busy street full of honking cars. You were tempted to find a way to swing up to the top of the buildings, but you reasoned that Miguel would be looking for you there. On the ground, you were practically invisible.

That thought allowed you to relax somewhat. You had wanted to peruse the city to enjoy the unique beauty it possessed, and now, you allowed yourself to do so. You soaked in the vibrant colors and loud noises all around you. There were performers, tourists, residents, vendors, and many other different types of people everywhere. In many ways, it was like your city, but the subtle differences all around made it still feel like a new world.

You walked for what felt like miles. Though you enjoyed the sights of the city, you still kept a watchful eye on the skyscrapers around for any sight of Miguel. A part of you wished he was there with you just to enjoy the city alongside you, but you knew that was ridiculous. Miguel didn't do fun things, and to do them with you would be too close to having an actual relationship, something he had reminded you several times he did not have time for.

You shook yourself from your thoughts with a sigh. You seriously needed to get a grip. You had been perfectly fine with just hooking up before. Why were you all of a sudden plagued with these thoughts of Miguel?

You answered yourself silently by glancing down at the web shooters, now disguised as thick bracelets, that he had given you. His gift to you had been so generous and unexpected that it made you think that perhaps he saw you as more than just a fuck buddy. In fact, something about your last encounter in general made you rethink everything.

Maybe it was the vulnerability he showed you after the loss of Earth-2319. He had come straight to you for comfort, and even if it was through sex, you still felt that it had meant something. Additionally, he had gotten a glimpse into your personal life by seeing your home, sleeping in your actual bed, not just your little standard-issue apartment at HQ.

And the looks—the softening of his eyes, the subtle smiles on his lips, the one laugh he had given you—each one was tucked away in your memory like a collection of rare, sacred artifacts. Each was made precious through the knowledge that he wasn't like that with anyone else, and you never wanted to stop collecting them.

No, you shouldn't be thinking things like that. You needed to stop. You needed to escape from him, and not just in the way you were doing now by hiding, but also in your mind. There was something about the mundane that made you yearn for a simple life, and you realized how much you would like to live it with him. Surrounding yourself with these blissfully ignorant people was seriously infecting you with this inexplainable melancholy. You needed to get your mind off of these brooding thoughts, and you knew just the way.

The sun was dwindling towards the horizon now, and still, there was no Miguel in sight. You had wandered around the city for a surprising amount of time, though to you, it seemed only a brief few minutes. If you could avoid him for maybe 30 more minutes, you would win the bet. You reasoned that 30 minutes was hardly enough time for Miguel to find you now that you had taken the subway to the other end of the city and wandered around for over an hour and a half.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you slipped into a side alley. You were about to call for Lyla again to change your suit, but as you thought about what you wanted, the suit itself took the initiative to change for you. You stood in awe for a second as your whole body transformed from athletic wear to your spider suit, and you wondered again for the millionth time why Miguel thought to give you such an amazing piece of technology.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts of Miguel again, you scaled the side of the building all the way to the top. From there, you leapt off and began swinging with no particular direction in mind. Up here, you were able to forget about those thoughts that plagued you down below. The wind rushing around you freed your mind of all concerns for Miguel and gave you a sense of confidence that only swinging from building to building could give you.

You finally pulled yourself up to the top of the highest building you could see. You settled down on the edge with your legs dangling over the side of the building. The sun was halfway set already, and the sky was painted brilliantly with pinks, violets, and orange.

It was incredible, truly incredible that you were able to be there, to be in another dimension. You didn't ever express your gratitude to Miguel for letting you join the Spider Society and allowing you to access places like this. Lately, you had been taking it for granted, but as you watched the sun dwindle beneath the horizon, you were filled with a deep sense of gratefulness.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your premonitory senses screamed at you to jump. Without a second thought, you quickly pushed yourself off the building, and right where you had been sitting, a bright orange web appeared.

As you twisted through the air, you caught Miguel's large figure leaping after you. "Sight seeing?” He called out to you as he shot another web at your figure. “Shit," you cursed quietly to yourself. You had been so close to winning. How had he found you out here?

You didn't let yourself dwell on the thought for too long since Miguel was swinging towards you with all of the focused determination of a predatory animal. You let your instincts take over as you hurdled through the air, narrowly avoiding his webs. You tried using your surroundings to your advantage—swinging around halfway-built buildings, turning at the last second through a construction zone, crawling up glass windows you knew he couldn't stick to. Nothing worked, though, and he stayed close behind you.

In that moment, your heart was pounding with the thrill of his chase, and you felt almost giddy at being able to swinging around the city like this without the danger of fighting someone. Miguel of all people was the one who reminded you of how much fun it was to be Spider-woman sometimes.

You saw a bridge ahead that crossed over one of the many channels in the city. Back on your world, you loved perching atop the numerous, large bridges to watch the sunset, so it shouldn't have surprised you that you instinctively webbed over to it, swinging underneath where countless cars were crossing over the water.

"You can't run forever," Miguel shouted behind you. Under your mask, you smiled. He was right. He had found you, and even though the sun had receded behind the horizon, the brilliant twilight still lit up the city, and you recognized that he had won the bet. You sighed in resignation, wishing that you could've gone on the mission to capture the anomaly. Still, you were going to honor your agreement, so instead of releasing your web to continue fleeing from Miguel, you let yourself swing back towards him.

Miguel was still quickly hurdling towards you. With you falling backwards and him moving forward, your webs actually caught together, and your bodies began circling around each other as your webs twisted around like a rope.

You stared at him as you spun around each other, and he stared back at you wordlessly. As your webs wrapped around each other, your bodies grew closer together until Miguel caught you around your waist and pulled you to him. There was a moment of stillness between you as your webs had now wrapped all the way down to your wrists, and you allowed your suit to retract enough to reveal your half-smirking face.

You wanted Miguel to show his face, too, but he just stared at yours for a few quiet seconds before your webs slowly began unraveling. Instead of continuing to let himself spin away from you, Miguel dropped down to the ground below right next to the channel. His suit retracted away from his face as well, and he was looking up at you with a triumphant expression.

Instead of releasing your web to fall down beside him, you pulled your lower body up above your head so that you were upside-down in a characteristic Spider pose. Slowly, you slid down your web until your upside-down face was level with his right-side-up one.

"I won," he told you in a low voice, a faint smile on his lips. You hummed quietly in response. "Really, I surrendered," you argued cheekily. You knew that he had you beat, but you couldn't let him know that. "The conditions were if I found you," he explained, and you could tell he was amused by your attempts to rationalize losing. "And I found you."

"Mmmm, I think they were if you caught me," you countered. "Which you didn't. I surrendered." Miguel raised his eyebrows as he pretended to entertain your argument. "Oh, really?" He said, and you nodded solemnly at him. He took a step forward and gently grabbed your head in his hands. "I caught you now," he murmured quietly, his smirking lips appearing like they were turned downward due to you looking at him upside-down.

"Damn," you whispered, "I guess you did." His thumbs brushed across your cheeks for a second as he studied your face quietly. As the two of you stared at each other, the bustling noises of the city seemed to fade away. The only thing you could hear now was your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel your face growing warm, and you didn't know if it was from being upside-down or from the way his fingers traced over your skin. Finally, in the dying violet light around you, Miguel kissed you.

His lips were a familiar feeling, yet your body reacted like it was the first time. Maybe it was the effects of the adrenaline from his chase, or maybe it was your own stupid emotions getting the better of you. Either way, you felt a fluttering in your chest that was hard to ignore.

As Miguel kissed you, you forgot all about the thoughts that had plagued you earlier. You didn't think about the fears you had with living a double life. You didn't think about the yearning you felt for a connection. You didn't even think about how impossible it was for you to be with him. All of your attention was focused on the way his lips moved against yours.

Finally, he broke away from you, leaving a pleasant hum running through your body. "How did you find me?" You asked quietly, breaking the charged silence between you. One corner of his lips quirked upward. "I'm the best," he replied in an arrogant tone, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

His thumbs were still brushing across your skin, and softly, he added, "It's easy when it's you. I could find you anywhere."

His words knocked out any capacity you had to think. You hung there in a flustered stupor, unable to come up with any response to him. Despite your lack of rational thought, you still felt a vague nagging in the back of your mind reminding you that this couldn't last. Why did it have to be him out of all the people in the multiverse for you to feel this way toward?

However, your apprehensive feeling disappeared again when he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. It was shorter this time, but it still left you smiling like a fool. "I still think I should go on the mission," you told him. Miguel gave a small huff of amusement. "Nice try," he replied. "You lost. Now, enough stalling."

You felt a nervous thrill flutter in your stomach as you remembered his conditions of the bet. I get to do whatever I want to you. He stepped away from you to type in his home world into his gizmo while you sighed in resignation. Turning over, you dropped down to the ground beside him as the portal appeared in front of you.

"After you," he said smugly. You rolled your eyes. "Such a gentleman," you huffed under your breath as you stepped into the portal with him following closely behind you.

[ca-suffit]

sorry how long this is, but this fandom is pissing me off so much and I need to rant a little before I explode lol.

-- madeleine (nonchalantly) says of sleeping with a literal nazi, "I was inviting a frightened boy to cradle my tits," and then when louis turns her we see this as a pleasant memory, and I'm supposed to believe someone who could take pity on a nazi (even if he "wasn't dedicated to the cause") and remember him fondly isn't going to be racist? so I'm the weird one for finding claudeine to be a gross ship and being exasperated by seeing edits of them flood my dash? and every time I talk about this on ANY platform, I mostly get ignored and the few people who do interact w my posts are denying it and saying she had to do it to survive, as if she didn't also literally say she grew up rich like 30 seconds prior.

-- a decent chunk of the anti lestat crowd insists he participated in the trial as an act of revenge and can't say his name w/o talking about how they hate him (bc his racism + abuse), and these are the same people going apeshit over ben daniels saying that santiago was gay and in love with armand, as if he isn't one of the most antiblack characters we've met on the show bc he was quite literally eager to put on the trial solely bc he hated louis for falling asleep during one of his performances. and don't get me started on his monologue about claudia's ashes. and yet ppl are excitedly eating ben's interview up. 🙄

-- the narrative literally showing us that lestat has changed since the attempted murder (going off script on the trial in defense of louis & claudia, taking accountability for his abuse, staying silent about the fact that he was the one to save louis & letting him leave w armand when we know how terrifying being alone is for lestat, spending decades living in that shack and eating rats to punish himself vs the hedonistic & decadent lifestyle we saw him living in s1) and the anti lestat crowd claiming this is just him being manipulative and are furious that the writers had louis forgive him. like normally I agree that it's in very poor taste to paint an abuser as sympathetic, but the thing about this show is that these characters are immortal and have all the time in the world to change. like this isn't the writers sweeping it under the rug, they're explicitly acknowledging how horrific lestat's behavior was and there are literally canon glimpses showing us that lestat has become a better person (and I'm sure this will be fleshed out more next season as we'll get his pov) and, like, isn't it a good thing to see an abusive character realize the error of their ways and alter their behavior and become better????? like it's fair to not want to see that, but this is the wrong show to be watching if you can't handle seeing abusers change their ways & being forgiven by the people they've hurt (especially since it's pretty much confirmed armand/daniel is going to happen at some point and given I'm sure they'll be circling around each other, I feel confident that louis will eventually forgive armand too)

ur fine, u can rant! I have a lot in my inbox but I try to get to it all eventually in whatever way.

idk how much u wanted me to comment on anything or not, but I'm gonna add comments and u do whatever u want with it.

a) ur never going to have an easy time criticizing a white woman in fandom. it reflects too much of what fandom is usually made up of and ppl will usually tell u it's misogyny to judge these characters if u ever try (most of the time it's not, but that's a convenient excuse to shut down convos).

the show intentionally makes everyone do p questionable shit, especially the white characters. it doesn't tell u how to feel about it, that's up to u. that makes ppl uncomfortable. it goes further too when it is someone like madeleine, who is otherwise seen in positive ways. it's reflective of real life and that's what scares ppl the most. nobody ever fits in a box of only "good" or "bad." a lot of what the book for IWTV asks too is what defines that anyways? and S1 also said "are we the sum of our worst moments?" so it is constantly asking u that and it is for u to decide and reflect on.

b) white, gay stuff is also gonna be popular in fandoms. ben daniels is also gay irl and his husband just died so there's crossover from that to praising his character bcuz ppl feel sympathy for him. I also think ppl detach more from his actions bcuz he's not romantically linked to the characters he's torturing. ppl also just honestly dgaf about antiblackness anyways so for most ppl it's easy to overlook. which is how we get posts like this.

I mean, u can also like whatever characters u like for any reason. some ppl like characters not bcuz they support what they do, but bcuz they're just enjoyable to watch in performance or connection to the plot or whatever. I think examining santiago after what ben said about his performance is something ppl should be able to do, and again it circles back to the stuff I wrote for madeleine. where does ur (general u) discomfort lie and why? as u said, if it's ppl who dislike lestat then it's worth looking at that too, why are the characters different then?

c) there's sort of 2 things happening for this part. the first is that 2x8 did have pacing issues, for whatever reasons. a lot of ppl felt like it flattened the plot and characters for the sake of making lestat look the best (over armand) and rly shoving it in out of nowhere. the second part is what u said about the themes. I've always figured they were going to explore forgiveness and personal growth, but I also know it isn't going to be easy for ppl to follow. hopefully the full seasons coming do a better job of this but for 2x8 there were a lot of reasons ppl felt crazy about the way it was shown to us. I also agree that other characters will have these journeys with each other too. it was just such a sharp turn for S2 to end on highlighting the white character we've otherwise seen as being p horrible and suddenly saying "it's the brown character who rly did the worst!" I don't think they intended to come across like that but it's how it landed for a lot of ppl. it doesn't mean ppl have an issue with the concept of forgiveness and stuff otherwise. we'll have to see how it goes. but ya there's 2 things going on there for this rn.

[g-xix]

why are people saying flo and arthur are together?? its so weird to me bc he is always openly talking about being single and his friends joke ab it too, and why cant they just be friends?? like there is no proof other than theyre roommates but i swear they had another roommate for years and also why do ppl care?? why make rumours up unless im missing smth? just accept hes said he single? ill respect any relationship he has as its not my business but i feel dumb like im missing smth bc where did this come from? 😭

LOOOOOOL

im not so sure where this came from either, anon, because the last time i talked about flo and arthur as a couple might've been - God - like, at least 6 or 7 months ago now...(?)

tbh - i dont know the psychological reason people give so much of a shit. "People" including me btw - i acknowledge that i deffo invest a lot of interest into Arthur Television and others' dating lives

Are they just friends? Idk, maybe! Do one of them like each other but the other doesn't?? Idk, maybe! Did they date for a while and maybe break up after a month because thyey didn't think they were working out together - or are they still dating - and are all the jokes about being single just some cover up??????

I dont flipping know but what I do know is that shit like that is MEGA interesting to people.

Hence it's also a pretty interesting talking point - especially to me and people following my because hello they're literally arthur teleivions fan-girls - of course they give a fuck about how their lil celebrity crush is doing

Origins of the "rumour" - not really sure. But i've seen bits and bobs on tiktok and even twitter well before it was ever discussed on this page, so maybs you can go interrogate those people on those platforms and feedback on what they reply with

hoping you find some peace of mind with this question, anon.

love, gracie xxx

[agentoffangirling]

I find it so interesting when Sylvie stans act like liking Loki is some sort of "gotcha", bc wdym they're on the same level?

Yes, Loki absolutely did terrible things; both the fanbase, narrative, and writers acknowledge that she did terrible things. If you had seen literally any other project that isn't the series, you would know that Loki was punished with a life sentence in Asgard and the only reason they got out is bc Thor did it for them. Majority of the fanbase knows that Loki did bad things and that some sort of punishment would make sense. The writers know it makes sense. The narrative demands it to make sense. 90% of Loki stans do not idolize Loki's actions in New York

However, there is a disconnect with those three groups with Sylvie. The narrative states that she did bad things, however, the writers claim it wasn't her fault, and there begins the trickle down into her fanbase with the idea "Sylvie was always right! She's innocent"

Look, I'm not here to discuss whether or not killing HWO was good or not, imo, I believe the multiverse should be free and that Sylvie did what she thought was right. But that doesn't mean she should avoid all responsibility once it turns out there were consequences to her actions

The narrative would demand some kind of recompense for what Sylvie did. Even if she didn't know at first, it would make sense for her to carry (at least some of) the blame. It would be fitting for her to have some sort of personal state into this and really show that she wants the best for the multiverse by actually helping. Hey, maybe even sacrificing yourself instead wouldn't be that bad of an idea

But the writers don't think this. They don't believe that Sylvie could be in the wrong. They don't write her to shoulder the blame, to right some wrongs or be punished in some capacity. It's one thing for Sylvie to not believe she's wrong, and it's another thing for the writers to think that as well, bc they are the people who are literally shaping everyone else's perception of her

So while Loki is literally giving life to the whole multiverse as some sort of weird and twisted "punishment" for his past actions (even though he already was punished on several occasions), Sylvie is not given an ounce of the same treatment. She is not being said to be wrong by the writers; the writing is not demanding any sort of blame onto her even though the narrative does

That's where her fanbase believes that she was always right. That Sylvie can never do any wrong. Why would she be punished if she was always innocent? The writing doesn't demand it, and so neither will they. There is a major disconnect between the narrative and the writers, an uneven platform that raises Sylvie as the savior when, if it were Loki in that scenario, we know that wouldn't be the case

You can stan Sylvie all you want, okay? I'm judging you severely in my little corner, but hey, so can you. But don't ever think she and Loki are comparable when one has been clearly dealt the better hand

[chaos-and-recover]

#you guys don't know how software development works and it Pains Me

Could you expand on that?

I think the post sums it up well, that there are physical servers that need to host the platform and that costs money so there's truly no way to have a totally free website (that's why AO3 has fundraising drives, because the alternative is ads and nobody wants that on the Fandom Porn Site).

But also in the recent announcements about restructuring and large parts of the Tumblr team being reassigned to other teams within Automattic and Tumblr essentially being left with a skeleton crew is... not great? Like everyone is celebrating the fact that Tumblr Live is probably going to die soon and ignoring the part that they also won't be shipping many if any new features but instead focusing on the ones they have. And when that part is acknowledged the reaction seems to be that they're gonna fix a bunch of shit and like... they probably aren't.

Development is slow and it requires people and direction. I don't know the details of what staff currently looks like or who's going where but in my experience, "we're focusing on improving the features we have" means "whoever is left will be focused on keeping the lights on." Like, maintaining vital infrastructure and maybe fixing bugs here and there if they have the capacity for it.

Plus not having shiny new features as often if at all makes it really hard to drive new users to the platform, and that makes it less enticing for investors and/or advertisers.

I work for a SaaS company with a significantly smaller userbase than a typical social media site would have, even a relatively underused one like Tumblr (bc we're B2B so our customers are other businesses in a niche-ish field) and just one of our platforms has two distinct product teams, with each team consisting of a product manager, a designer, a handful of developers and a QA team, and that doesn't include the site reliability team who keep the whole thing running and solve database and server issues.

And it'll be hard to attract or retain top talent in any of these roles if your company just isn't putting the resources into the platform.

It takes a lot of people to keep a website functional, and I don't want to be doom and gloom because it might all be fine, at least for the foreseeable future, but it takes a lot of people to keep a software platform running.

I'm just glad it seems like no one at Tumblr is actually losing their jobs at this point.

And lbr I'm still gonna be here til the wheels fall off.

[dykesbites]

aziz abt tierna.pls . or vice versa

😨, 🫂, 👁️

What's their greatest fear?

Aziz about Tierna

"Greatest fear...?" Aziz frowned. "Nothing immediately comes to mind. My little sister has always been the adventurous one. Always the first to investigate strange noises in the palace when we were children. She hasn't changed much, in that sense." Aziz paused, eyebrows furrowed. "She pretends not to care about status. She doesn't, not the way Farah and I do, but she takes her role as a royal guard very seriously. She always wanted to serve in the King's army. She has worked long and hard to get to her rank, regardless of the help her name has given her. To lose that, especially if it were by her own hand... that would destroy her." He shook his head. "She'd always have the family to fall back on if that ever happened, of course. But she wouldn't take it. Being a royal guard is a greater part of her identity than being a Faverro will ever be."

Tierna about Aziz

"Public embarrassment, I'd guess," Tierna answered, not glancing up from cleaning her blade. "He's had a few minor scandals here and there, every politician gets them. But if something major were to happen, something unsalvageable?" She sheathed her sword, satisfied with its condition. "Well. He can salvage just about anything. He has that way about him, able to spin any story into his favor. But if it were beyond him? He'd just fall apart." Tierna stood, checking over her armor. All equipment accounted for. "I don't think he's worried about it. He's too good at the game for that to ever happen." She nodded in acknowledgement before leaving. "I hope that answers your question. If you'll excuse me, I have to report for duty."

How has your relationship changed recently? (I'm going to have this set at the beginning of the story to avoid spoilers bc god their relationship changes so much by the end)

Aziz about Tierna

Aziz raised his eyebrows. "Our relationship? Nothing has changed, of course. Tierna is still my little sister. We are both very busy people, as you know, so we do not see each other often. That is all. It is unfortunate, but we all make sacrifices for our country." He made a slightly sorrowful expression, but finished with a brave smile. Our poor, valiant Delegate.

Tierna about Aziz

"Um," Tierna said, wiping her brow. "He came to my graduation. He has little interest in what I do, but I suppose it was important enough for him to come." Her blade clashed against her opponent's, catching the sunlight. "Even Farah was there, so I assume our parents had to convince them." Tierna maneuvered her wrist so swiftly that only a well-trained eye could realize what happened before the other sword landed on the grass with a soft thud. Her sparring partner raised his hands in surrender, turning away to take a break. She gave him a nod before returning to the question. "They probably told him it'd be an opportunity for making connections with important people, something like that. But it was nice of him to show up." She took a long sip of water. "That's really the only thing that's happened lately. We're usually busy with our own lives." Tierna shrugged.

Do you really know them?

Aziz about Tierna

Aziz scowled for a brief moment before schooling his features into his normal slightly amused expression. "I'm afraid I don't understand your question. Tierna is my sister. I have known her her entire life." The blinding smile returned. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"

Tierna about Aziz

Tierna looked up quizzically. "Well... I suppose not? We're not all that close. I know things about him other people don't, like his favorite bedtime stories when we were kids. Stupid things. And I know the things everyone knows, like that he's a smooth talker and spends too much time brushing his hair. I couldn't tell you what he's thinking now, though. I don't even know what policies he supports, or what platform he's running on. If it's important enough, I'll hear about it. Otherwise, I'm focusing on training and serving the King."

[thedroloisms]

A repeated sentiment I'm seeing is "did we learn nothing from kwite" which I don't know if the implication they're making is going over their heads or they're doing it on purpose and preparing to say she's lying. Because kwites situation was someone lying about him so if this is the kwites situation then you're saying Shelby is lying.

and again, shubble did not make a direct accusation? like, the situation here isn't that she's calling for him to be deplatformed or for people to knock down his door saying to take him in for [xyz] crime. ultimately this is a scenario where every individual fan can make the decision based on the evidence on whether or not to keep supporting him and that's kind of it.

like, with kwite and with dream and with cellbit, these were situations with pretty severe accusations made directly at a content creator. in these scenarios, it's perfectly understandable to wait for a further statement bc a response is pretty much guaranteed (similar things can be said abt the situations of illumina and forever, among others). in some of these cases, the ccs proved that they were falsely accused. in others, not so much. but bc of the nature of the original accusation, waiting for a response is pretty damn reasonable. even with dream, where the full response took a year to make, the original response to the accusations was made pretty much immediately in acknowledgement of their existence and to say that a future more in-depth response wouldn't be pursued until he got legal counsel, iirc.

here, without a direct accusation, people are playing the waiting game with something that's likely never going to happen? i mean, sure, maybe a statement will be made especially w/ how things evolved in the fandom front, but it's definitely not something where i really see it being certain that one will come out. even before we got a full response in any of the above situations, people still assessed the evidence and made judgements as they waited - like, there's plenty of people who weren't comfortable with supporting the above ccs until they got a full response to the situation, which is entirely fair considering how people can retract their support for any content creator at any point in time. what was eyeroll worthy of people's responses was the pitchfork-and-torches attitude people would take on based on limited and sometimes shoddy evidence. the assumption that they Knew Everything about a situation and then the moral judgements made on the behalf of other people when there was more information promised in the future.

like, shelby is a well established content creator with a lot to lose if she lies who has her account corroborated by other well established content creators who also have a lot to lose by lying. a very different situation from accusations made by sources without an online platform, or especially those made by literally anonymous people. they never made a direct accusation, so if people want to wait for a response that's fine, but you know, i dont know why they seem this confident that they're going to get one. and in any situation like these waiting for more information doesn't keep you from looking at the evidence that already exists. as long as people are aware that this is a situation where you really can't have "both of the people we're talking about are entirely innocent" and that the people around them are going to look into the situation and make judgements accordingly, as is the case with any other online drama in the world, i mean i'm not going to keep them from staying in their copium lanes i guess.

[apocketfullofpoesis]

I'm sorry if you're getting bullied or your hard work isn't being appreciated but in terms of you as a person you come off really judgemental, arrogant and rude. Even professors have to do chores and so do you. Being a topper doesn't make you a superior person. I'd rather be friends with a kind academic failure who whores themselves around than you for all your excellent grades. Be successful, know your own worth and don't dim your own light. But at the same time don't ram your success down others throats who aren't, can't be or don't want to be your intellectual equal. It takes all sorts to make the world go round. Confidence and humility are a tricky balance I know but you're going to up bitter and twisted with this mindset you're propagating

this is the problem with venting out on social media platforms. the very first line you apologized to me if I was being bullied and then you go on to contradict those lines yourself. i have a lot of friends, I am kind to each one of my batchmates (not just classmates), and keep helping them that's why I never complained about my friends in that rant. However there are some people in my family, and around the society i live in who blame their insecurities on my capabilities even if the two are far from being interrelated. the fact that you found me arrogant and rude bc i vented out my bottled up feelings, lowering my guard down speaks volumes why some people refrain from putting their views forward on the internet. I did not even get what you said about professors because mind you, my professors are very supportive to me and my classmates but there are some who are pure sadists and they constantly try to bring people like me down, who are academically good and focused. trust me.

Being a topper does not make me superior. Yes. Thank you for admitting it. That is another thing that people like you have stereotyped about us. But even if it does give some sort of peace to us, thinking we are actually good at something (re-read my post where I said this line) is there something wrong with that? There are people in my class who are super talented at dancing and singing and they feel superior to others because they're good at it. Theres nothing wrong with it. Similarly, if we feel superior because we can actually do good academically, why is that a concern? Some toppers are annoying, ngl. Do not generalize us. Unless some of us don't bully you and ask you to worship at our altar, why is that a bad thing? I will also give you a very common example. Some of my classmates still have a stage fear in even texting our professors and suggesting them changes in the schedule so they text us because they know we got this. I'll share a screenshot of a chat from today, in this reference:

regarding who you would rather be friends with, why would I care? you do you. I wrote it in frustration bc my friends are suffering and the entire semester I kept telling them that it's the final year and now they should at least try to get back on track. literally, these friends of mine follow me on Tumblr. They don't have issues because they know the context, so chill.

I am not ramming my success up anyone's throat. We're not in middle school ffs. In terms of success, i haven't even graduated yet. I don't consider myself successful so thanks to you if you do. That's one positive thing I'll take from your message. I don't bring anyone down in my process, i help them as much as I can. But it's of no use if they completely refrain from helping themselves. You really didn't get the point.

Lastly, I am not propagating my mindset. It seems to me that you are gullible if anything that I said influenced you to change your thoughts. For that I'd say, follow the advice you're giving to me because the world is crueler than the topper you're talking about lmao.

I wrote that rant because I feel that it goes unnoticed how nobody acknowledges the mental pressure that tags along with being a topper and this one time that I spoke about it, these are y'all's replies. Really stunned. But it also proved my point so it's alright <3.

edit:

I'd like to attach a meme based on yet another stereotyped notion and i kinda understand where you're coming from

DO NOT BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU SEE ON SOCIAL MEDIA THAT FEEDS TO YOUR WRONG VIEWS!

[saetoru]

Having lots of followers on Tumblr and not acknowledging your power is like having a bedroom full of plushies and not talking about it.

Like sure, you could say that you have them, but it doesn't really influence people's lives. Although you are very powerful, you stay humble and true to yourself.

i feel like i have room to speak on this seeing as i have a pretty large following and my family grew up from being relatively low on money from when i was a kid to being decently wealthy now so imma give my 2 cents

having a following in tumblr is nice. having money is a necessity. you literally cannot survive without at least some source of income like how would u live somewhere safe and eat and etc ?? it is simply nice to have a following on here, but it doesn’t contribute to ur quality of life. and i’ll be the first to admit that yeah, having a large following makes u influential in the community on here in a way that can negatively impact others if ur not careful what u say—sure, that’s a valid point. but having a tumblr following contributes next to nothing in my real life bc this isn’t a platform like tik tok or youtube or even instagram that having influence over large amounts of people equates monetary value. u can easily make money off of ur tik tok following, but the same can’t be said about tumblr unless it’s a few comms but even still that’s not a significantly large difference. so like while there is an influence a big blog on here holds, they’re still average people. there’s nothing unaverage about them. and that’s what that person was saying they were like when big blogs say “i’m just a random person who writes about 2d dick” it’s not true when…it literally is. like i am an average person a very normal person writing about 2d characters lol. idk they were making a valid point when they said that it’s different to be a big blog on here than a small one—that is true, but comparing it to the wealthy and the non wealthy was crazy bc a large blog on here can very much be financially struggling and a small blog on here could be filthy rich, and i think the large majority would choose being filthy rich + having a small blog instead of having a shit ton of followers on here + struggling to pay bills

[lvpnm-moved]

I think it's also the fact ranboo specifically made himself a voice and said he would use his platform to support poc and then didn't. that's part of why he's being focused on rn. he specifically said he would do more and put himself in position to use his platform and then didn't really follow through. other ccs have been called out for not supporting poc or using their platforms, but rn people are pointing out ranboo's hypocrisy specially bc he talked about the issues the queen dying caused in england but (to my knowledge) hasn't talked about any poc struggles

Yeah like it's not being unfair and "holding him in a different standard " for waiting him to follow through his promises.he was basically the only cc the acknowledged the problem of poc being ignored ofc we gonna get mad at him.

Its so frustrating bc we get nonblacks talking Abt how it makes sense and it's ok for ccs to ignore us and focus on queer ppl. Like they have all the time and energy in the world to do shit for pride but we basically get not even a single tweet Abt black history month.

And when we talk about how this community is unwelcoming to blk and other poc, both from the fans and ccs sides, we get it ignored, told we are self-centered and acting entitled, have the racist shit that was done undermined and ignored,that we should praise them for not being racist, being villanized bc we critized their favorite white guy, etc etc

Like it's a problem within all the community if u feel that ppl don't call other ccs out yall either ignoring poc and shutting or y'all aren't being good enough talking Abt it.

The only time in the last two years I've seen white ccs "did something Abt" poc issues and struggles was last year when a dono told tubbo Abt bhm and he donated to black charity and.... Ranboo promising he would be more openly supportive of poc after realizing he was part of the problem of ignoring us, and then he forgot Abt it yesterday . Just bc others ccs are doing bad shit treating us as afterthought doesn't mean ranboo should just get way with being a hypocrite and continuing treating us like that after saying he would do better

[shizuu-chann]

I make one post looking for others who hate the stupid recurring child in ME3 and now I have people trying to explain to me what a metaphor is and others agreeing with it. 🙃 I know what a metaphor is, and I understand why the child is there and what it represents.

But guess what.

I still hate the child.

That's it. That's all the post was about, how I hate that child, hate looking at the child, and how *I* wish it were literally anything else. Children are not compelling to me, but animals are. Ashley/Kaidan would be FAR more compelling than a child, even if I know the devs/writers used a neutral characters for those coming into ME3 without playing any of the other games first.

At the same time, why would you only play the third game in a series that builds off the previous games? Personally, I wouldn't care about catering to newbies, but that's just me. (And yes, I understand why they wanted to appeal to new people. That still doesn't mean I agree.) ME1 and 2 were available on the same platforms and easily accessible, like people could have played all three games easily on PC, PlayStation, or Xbox and not had trouble finding them or buying them used for cheap. (Unlike, say, the earlier Witcher or Elder Scrolls games, where if I wanted to play Daggerfall or Morrowind, for instance, it would be a pain and the graphics are just OLD. At least the ME series all came out within 5 years.)

Ugh, I'm ranting. You really can't make vent posts on here about ANYTHING without someone going "Um, well actually--" Sigh. Like, honestly, nothing against the person who disagreed, they're entitled to their opinions, but I wish people would understand that you can know why something was done and acknowledge that it works WHILE ALSO hating it, thinking it's stupid, and wishing it were something else. Just bc one thing works doesn't mean nothing else would work, and people don't need to be educated bc they have a different opinion.

[herotome]

Devlog #54

Hi-ho, Wudge here. I promised I'd show some a cool GIF so...

Tadah!! A beautiful animation featuring @regal-bones!!!

She was absolutely DELIGHTFUL to work with, 10/10. if you’re ever looking for some radical DnD artwork or particle effect animations, I highly recommend her services!

The sprite, as always, is lined & colored by Remnantation. <3

(I'm gonna post this separate from the devlog here in a minute, just to try - bc I ought to post these standalone images without my big rants attached to them hahaha.)

Alright onto this week's update:

I've been writing moorreeee Jade! Starting to feel pretty okay about the transition between her scene and Dart's.

Caught up on a good handful of asks! \o/

And I've been working on a lot of dumb adult stuff behind the scenes - I don't know if I've mentioned them in detail, since I prefer to get them sorted quietly. Sometimes talking about these things is comforting, other times acknowledging them makes them even more stressful, you know?

••• Paypal is enforcing some changes in my country that makes it so I can't receive any incoming payments unless I have a registered business. So... I've been jumping through the hoops of trying to register a business. Not yet ready to share the business name (still gotta hoard all the usernames on all the platforms). The change won't take effect for another couple months... I'm hoping they don't make it too painful, because to my knowledge I've done everything I'm supposed to do and now I'm just waiting on them. e_e Blegh.

••• My drawing tablet-computer is about 3 years old and starting to show signs of, ah, physical wear and tear. This makes me sad because the SOFTWARE still works great, but the screen's got some black lines across the top (like rows pixels aren't loading?), the trackpad hasn't worked in over a year, sometimes the power button doesn't seem to work unless I press real hard.... I've tried to use some workarounds (ex, buying an external mouse) and I've been diligent about backing up my data, but it's starting to get to a point where I'm gonna need to get this little baby looked at. 😭 And they're probably gonna tell me to just get a new computer. 😭😭😭 Buuut who knows, fingers crossed these fixes are all minimal effort and I can keep the baby going for another 3 years?

••• As suchhh I've spent much of today troubleshooting and doing minor IT surgery (software updates, testing the net connection, disabling that ho Cortana, etc.) on my old laptop from... 2015. This will ensure I can keep working even when the baby is away. All that's left is making sure all my files are up-to-date on my SSD. 💫 I won't be able to work on any art, but I can at least keep writing and coding!

So ahh, thoughts and prayers and whatnot for my first world problems. ❤️ Would love to get the computer situation sorted, at least, by the end of the year.

I hope you’re all staying safe and keeping warm.

Much love,

Wudge.

[pinktwingirl]

Not to rain on anyone's parade and be the bringer of bad mood, but Marvel never really caved in when it came to unpopular pairings. Jane and Thor broke up because the studio had some issues with Portman, not because fans thought the romance between was stale. And if what we know of L&T is anything to go by, they will focus on it once more.

Bruce and Natasha were boring which is something I see everyone agree on, from fans to critics and were ultimately Whedon's momentary idea. But despite not being favored, the ship was still present in future installments, Taika made sure to include it, even IW and Endgame acknowledged their bond. They had a couple of podcast interviews where they discussed the situation with the ship and the Russos explained they had a few Brutasha scenes that were scrapped to not slow down the film. As for Steve and Sharon. There were never really any plans for them, in interviews they pretty much said they were making it up as they went and it was more or less just a nod to the comics.

Ultimately by then, it had already been decided that Steve would end up with Peggy anyway. Wanda/Vis was heavily disliked as well around AoU/CW/IW era bc it was considered wrong, and they still gave them a show. Steggy is not very much liked, Peggy is straight up one of the most disliked characters in the current mcu, yet they were still endgame.

If marvel truly cared about stan opinion there’s countless things they’d have done differently. Certain characters wouldn’t be wasted, certain arcs wouldn’t be ignored, they wouldn’t do THAT to Steve and have him end up with Peggy for example. They wouldn't even ruin Stucky like that.

 I'm not here to bring anyone down, but the truth is Marvel doesn't really listen to what we stans have to say about certain decisions. The situation with Sylki is even more complicated because it's quite central to the plot, it was one of the first things they wrote in, and even Feige's one of the people pushing for it. Not to mention that the show got two nominations for best writing (lol) and it’s unfortunately, outside Tumblr or Twitter the most popular.

I made the mistake of doing some deeper research regarding fan reception of Sylki and while yeah Twitter mostly dislikes it, people on other platforms facebook, shhf, reddit, youtube are digging it. Please tell me HOW did Sylki manage to completely obliterate Lokius in that one fb's "favorite ship" by having nearly 30k more votes 😭 There are even critics who are praising the team for this ‘bold and interesting’ decision regarding the romance. So yeah, I guess this is just me not trying to delude or blind myself with hopes because at the moment the most realistic take is, that they will still continue with the romance. 

Sorry if this sounds too negative, but marvel burnt me one too many times.

No I definitely agree. I mean, whatever happens happens at this point, and I’m too tired to care either way.