#hes not a content creator to me hes. a cousin

[crunchyblocks]

karls new pic and caption was so bizarre its actually broken the spell i think i love mister beast now. we should thank him every day maybe

[bvnnyblood]

i just walked in on my little sister crying and when i asked her why she told me what today’s date was and now we’re both crying

[lordprettyflackotara]

paradise || sam golbach

SMUT. minors dni fr. 18+ this one is ummm. i’d say it’s for the humiliation & harder kink leaning girls only !! i have so many fics in the work i promise imma feed all of the different fandoms that follow me🙏🏼 enjoy mwah !

How did one woman change Sam’s life so drastically?

How did you change his life so drastically?

Sam couldn’t escape you. He thought of you every day, the image of you burned into his mind. You were like a parasite, one that had buried itself into the depths of his brain.

It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He tried everything to forget you. Or at the very least to think of you less. Sam felt like he was slipping, losing control of his own thoughts. He traveled wherever, trying to distract himself.

It didn’t matter where he went, he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own desires.

Logically, Sam knew anything he felt for you was wrong. Any filthy fantasy, craving, or romantic thought, was a sin. After all, you were Colby’s little sister.

Colby was only a couple of years older than you, the age gap one that originally steered Sam away from you. Growing up with Colby, you were always around. You did your own thing, preoccupied in building a simple life for yourself. You opted to be out of the spotlight, politely declining any invitation to be apart of their content.

But then, you disappeared for a few years. Sam hadn’t seen you since high school. You went away to an out of state University, while Sam and Colby both moved across the country to pursue being content creators. If Sam was being honest with himself, despite his current obsession, he had forgotten about you for a while.

After all, he was in the major league now. He had girlfriends come and go, hookups, anything and everything he could ever need. Sam firmly believed, at the time at least, he was in paradise. He was on a high, one that he thought he couldn’t be knocked down from. So when one of Colby’s cousins was getting married, he didn’t think twice about the invitation, nor being his plus one.They did everything together, both boys pretty much members of each other’s families. Everything should’ve went the way Sam expected it to, but it didn’t.

Those predicted thoughts and plans were all shattered the moment he saw you. You were borderline unrecognizable. Sam couldn’t figure it out, staring at you as you walked down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids. Your face had matured, a decent amount of your soft skin revealed in the dress you were wearing. Your back was almost completely exposed, the sight making Sam shift awkwardly in his chair like a thirteen year old boy.

He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, his face turning the faintest shade of pink. Was he really getting hard? Over seeing some skin? Sam mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He had seen much crazier things. Yet, the simplicity of your back was enough to send him in a frenzy. As you gazed over at the audience, your eyes met his, a small smile creeping up your lips. Sam delivered a discreet wave, your smile growing bigger at the sight. Your eyes then flickered back to the bride, your attention returning to the wedding.

Somehow, someway, for some reason, that made Sam jealous. Sam was not a jealous person. Or he didn’t consider himself to be. The after party was more Sam’s speed, the loud music and alcohol provided something he was used to. Sam didn’t drink often, deciding to stay sober for the most part. (After one too many drunken hookups, he learned his lesson.) He monitored Colby the best he could, the brunette talking up a girl Sam didn’t recognize.

Awkwardly Sam sat at one of the round tables, his phone dead and eyes glazed over from boredom.

“Sam?”

Your voice was like heroin.

Sam’s head perked up, his eyes flickering to yours. You sat down beside him, skipping the small talk and immediately trying to catch up. As you told him about your University adventures Sam couldn’t help but stare at you. Your elegant makeup complimented you perfectly, your pink lips moving a mile a minute. He hung onto every word, every time you laughed at one of his jokes.

The party was beginning to die down, older family members going their separate ways. You nervously bit your bottom lip, asking Sam a question he could’ve only dreamed of:

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?”

Sam felt euphoric when you pulled him into the back seat of your car. When you placed your lips against his, when your small hands began to fiddle with his belt.

He remembered the sweet sound of your moans. The way you whimpered for him, begging for him to not stop. How tight your cunt squeezed him, the way your lips pressed against his with such passion. As if you had been yearning for him all of those years you were away. The way you looked into his eyes as you came around his cock was all Sam could ever think about.

Attempting to return to his normal life was pure agony. Having to look Colby in the eye the next day was a nightmare, his little sister’s mouth wrapped around his cock the night before. Attempting to continue making content was even harder, Sam’s mind wrapped around the memory of you. He tried to ignore it, but his fans knew something was up. The comments of concern grew overwhelming, the blonde deciding to take a break from social media all together.

Colby recommended that he try to take a well deserved vacation to try to get himself together. Colby didn’t think much of his behavior, figuring he was just in a slump. Sometimes making too much content was draining. He figured he just needed a long break.

Sam tried. Genuinely, he tried to move on. He visited Florida, the waves of the beach not enough to drown out the memory of your moans. He tried New York next, the tourist actions not indulging enough to get him to forget you. Every time he attempted to focus his mind would begin remembering, the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

It was never enough.

He sat in his hotel room, contemplating booking another flight. Maybe to Mexico. Maybe that would fix it. He flipped apps to instagram, a picture of you showing up on his timeline. Of course. What were the odds? You were posing with a friend, standing in front of a picture of your University.

He bit his bottom lip, knowing his desire to come see you was absurd. It was reckless, completely and utterly insane. If you didn’t react well, his friendship with Colby could be entirely ruined. But what if you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you?

Fuck it.

Sam stood at the door of your dorm, becoming increasingly nervous. He could feel his heart beginning to pound, his mouth running dry. Admittedly he felt guilty about finding your personal information like this. Then having the audacity to show up at your front door unannounced. He almost thought about walking away, but then he heard your laugh. The mesmerizing sound of your sweet laughter.

Sam cleared his throat, before knocking on your door. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of locks being unlocked filling his ears. Timidly you pulled the door open, surprised to see anyone at your doorstep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Sam, shocked he was standing in front of you.

“Sam?”

Sam could feel his heart pounding louder, adrenaline running through his veins. He brushed past you, entering the apartment. You awkwardly closed the door, more confused than anything. “I know this is inappropriate but I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sam confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know why, but ever since that night at the wedding I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It’s been driving me crazy,” He continued, rambling on.

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him pace back and forth like a madman. “I have tried everything in my power to move on. But I can’t. Your pussy is like fucking heroin, okay? And I can’t stop thinking about you and that night,” Sam babbled. His tongue was moving a mile a minute, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Do you know how many times i’ve jerked off to the thought of you? Just the mere thought? You’re so addicting that I-”

An awkward cough came from behind him, your roommate gawking at the blonde in front of her. She looked back and forth from you to him, as if she was trying to process what was happening. “This is Sam?” She asked, dumbfounded. Sam felt his face turn red as his eyes flickered back and forth from you to her. Your face was nearly as dark as his.

“Uh huh.”

“The Sam that fucked you at the wedding?”

“Uh huh.”

“The same guy who made you cum like five times-”

“Emma!”

Emma raised her hands in defeat, sliding off of her chair. “I’m going to let you guys uh, figure this out,” She said. You watched as she walked over to the stairs, nodding profusely and giving you two thumbs up. You refrained from face palming, turning your attention back to Sam.

Sam was tongue tied, to say the very least. He was filled with embarrassment, his red face telling you everything you needed to know. You approached Sam slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Did you mean that?” You asked softly. Sam worked up the courage to meet your eyes, looking down at you. Your hands on his shoulders was enough to make butterflies fly around in his stomach.

“Mean what?”

“Everything you just said.”

Sam was dumbfounded by your question. Had he not been clear enough?

“If you asked me to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me id do it without a second thought.”

You bit your bottom lip, eyeing Sam’s body.

“And Colby?”

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side.

“What about him?”

You sighed, taking a step closer to him.

“Does he have any idea about this? About us?”

The blonde took a moment to rack his brain, searching for any clues he might’ve accidentally left. Obviously he hadn’t said a word to Colby, refraining from bringing you up at all. If he happened to bring you up, Sam would change the topic immediately. “No he doesn’t,” He answered honestly. You pressed your body against his, the room seemingly growing to a hundred degrees. “He’s going to find out eventually you know, are you going to be able to handle that?” You asked.

Handle being skinned alive by Colby? Piece of cake. An absolute walk in the park. Sam would do it in a heartbeat, all for you. “Yeah,” Sam agreed. His eyes darted down to your lips, the urge to kiss you overwhelming him.

“I think you should stay for a while.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, the blonde leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. They were as soft and plump as he remembered, your arms wrapping around his neck. As delicate as the kiss was, Sam remembered a very important part of why he was addicted to you. You liked it fucking rough.

Sam’s hands slithered down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as if you were going to disappear. “Jump for me,” He whispered, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back roughly hit your living room wall, knocking over a couple of photo frames off of a shelf. You gasped as you heard them clatter to the floor, Sam’s lips trailing down your face to the side of your neck.

“Sam be careful, I do have a roommate you know,” You whimpered, his lips preoccupied with littering your neck with hickies. His hips grinded against yours, your core beginning to throb with desire. “She’ll be fine, you can tell her about the five more orgasms I give you,” Sam purred, licking the side of your neck. His lips trailed up to your ear, nibbling at it gently. You groaned his name, tugging at his blonde hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Sam confessed, his hips bucking against yours. You giggled, meeting his gaze. “You better fuck me like you mean it then,” You replied. Sam smirked at your response. He carried you over to the couch, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He needed to see you, to feel you. You both stripped each other, desperate to see the other one exposed. Sam tried to ignore his raging boner as he admired you.

“Fuck, you’re ethereal,” Sam praised. He lowered himself down to your stomach, teasingly pressing kisses down to your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Purposefully he fanned his hot breath over your folds, your cunt dripping in arousal. “So wet, this all for me?” Sam asked. You attempted to push him into your cunt, his head not moving.

“Sammy, no teasing, please,” You whined. Sam wasn’t one to deny you of that, lowering himself into your cunt. His tongue lapped at your slick like a starved man, rotating licking to sucking at your clit. Roughly he brought two fingers to your entrance, relishing in the feeling of your walls struggling to take his fingers. Your juices coated his chin, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you going to take my cock if you’re struggling to take my fingers?” Sam asked teasingly. You moaned in response, his fingers curling and hitting your g spot.

You threw your head back, squeezing your thighs around Sam’s head. A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh, a gasp escaping your lips. “Look at me, fucking look at me as you become a stupid slut for me,” Sam ordered. You had no room to argue, your body a slave to the pleasure. Sam matched your energy, providing you with the rough dominant rough sex you craved. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him, your sinful moans bouncing off of the living room walls.

“Thats right, moan just like that. Let Emma and all of your neighbors know who this cunt belongs to,” Sam growled. His fingers were merciless, a third finger sliding into you. Your hands flew down to his hair, tugging at the roots as a knot began forming into your stomach. Your eyes were threatening to flutter shut, every ounce of energy you had dedicated to maintaining eye contact.

“Awe are you close already?” Sam smirked, your orgasm growing closer and closer. He spread open your folds, admiring your cunt. “Fuck, i’m going to fuck you so stupid,” He grumbled, reattaching his mouth to your clit. His strong hands forced your legs open, your thighs trembling as you came. Sam’s lips were relentless, sucking and swirling around your clit as you came on his face. As you rode out your high you threw your head back, your heart racing.

Sam couldn’t hide his ego as he emerged from between your legs. “On your knees, slut. Now,” He barked. You scrambled to meet his command, your knees hitting the wooden floor. “Open your mouth for me,” He snarled. The moment you did so his cum soaked fingers were shoved in your mouth, all three of them. You did the best you could to suck them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, teasing him.

“Thats a good girl,” Sam purred in satisfaction. He removed his fingers from your mouth, eagerly replacing them with his cock. Your mouth was heaven, Sam watching in amazement as you began taking him further without a second thought. He hadn’t even needed to tell you to. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Sam muttered, grabbing your hair. He ensured to make it into a nice ponytail, before forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

The sound of you gagging was pure ecstasy. Sam admired as saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth. Down to your chin. Then pooling onto the wooden floor in front of your knees. The blonde couldn’t think straight as his hips moved on their own, lost in his own personal euphoria as he face fucked you. You did your best to maintain eye contact with him, tears flooding your waterline. “You’re such a whore, fuck,” Sam groaned.

He briefly yanked you off of his cock, watching you gasp for gulps of air. Saliva dripped down his cock, tears officially spilling from your waterline. Sam’s cock twitched at the sight, your mouth reattaching itself to him. Mesmerized, Sam watched as you sucked his cock, your tongue swirling and wrapping around his tip. Sam whimpered as his own high came quickly, the blonde yanking you off of him. Your name was a mantra as he came, jerking his cock in front of you.

You flattened your tongue across your bottom lip, his ropes of cum painting your face. You swallowed what seed landed on your tongue, the rest of his cum staining his face. Sam guided you over to the couch. You stood eagerly, awaiting his instructions. “Cmere, come ride my thigh,” He said plainly. You planted yourself on his thigh, a whimper escaping your lips as your clit brushed against his bare skin. You went to wipe off your face, the blonde grabbing your wrist.

“No. Ride my thigh with my cum on your face. Show me that’s how much of a whore you are,” Sam ordered. You grabbed onto Sam’s thigh for support, steadying yourself before slowly rolling your hips downwards. You couldn’t hide your whimpers, your clit overstimulated. Sam watched in awe, your hips slowly grinding against him. “Go faster,” Sam commanded. He didn’t want to be easy on you, he wanted to see you squirm.

Your thighs shook as you attempted to follow his command, your cheeks turning a shade of bright red as the humiliation set in. You weren’t going fast enough for Sam, his large hands grabbing your waist. His fingers dug into your skin harshly, guiding you to ride his thigh faster. “Sam- Feels so good, I- fuck,” You slurred. Your hips struggled to keep up with Sam’s movements, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt your second orgasm coming.

Sam could feel himself growing hard again at the sight of you, blood rushing to his shaft as you pathetically did everything in your power to cum. “Cum for me, now,” Sam ordered. Unholy mantras of Sam’s name slipped from your lips, your thighs trembling as you came on his thigh. You felt dazed, your body trembling as Sam’s strong hands held you in place.

He lovingly brought his hand to your cheek, ignoring the cum that was gathering on his thumb. “You think you can handle me?” He asked gently. You mumbled an agreement, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You grabbed his wrist, redirecting his thumb into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, swallowing his cum. “Filthy filthy girl,” Sam muttered, guiding you into the next position.

You found yourself on the couch on all fours, ass in the air as Sam admired you. Your arch was divine, one he had seen before and had been yearning for all of this time. Teasingly he rubbed his tip up and down your slick, lubricating his cock for you. His eyes gleamed with pride as you squirmed at the slightest feeling of his tip brushing against your clit. One thing that Sam remembered, on top of everything else, was that you didn’t like to wait.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he quickly pushed himself inside. Sam would be fine with taking things slow, allowing your body to adjust to his cock. But you preferred to be slammed into, enjoying the pain that ever so slowly faded into pleasure. Sam let out a shaky groan as he bottomed out, euphoria clouding his senses.

Sam had traveled all over the world trying to forget about you, trying to seek paradise. One that would bring him to the state of blissful peace. But as his cock brushed against your g spot, the sweet sound of your whimpers flooding his ears, he came to a realization. Sam’s personal paradise was being buried into your cunt. Nothing else on the planet compared to the way you squeezed him, begged for him, kissed him, moaned for him. His paradise, overall, was you.

The blonde began moving his hips, your groans growing louder. Your walls clenched around him as Sam picked up the pace, he began panting curses with mixes of your name. “You feel so fucking tight, shit,” Sam groaned. He leaned over further, grabbing a handful of your hair as his cock abused your cervix. “You’re mine. My personal cock slut, understand?” He growled. He pushed your face into the couch, his cum staining the fabric below you.

“Y-yes sir,” You babbled, your body on cloud nine. Your thighs began to shake with every thrust, your body overstimulated and complete putty in Sam’s hands. Sam’s fast paced thrust were becoming greedy, the desire for him to reach his own high clouding his judgment. “Look at you, staining your couch with my cum all because I told you to. Such a pathetic whore for me,” Sam rambled, his hands digging into the sides of your waist.

You could feel your final orgasm approaching, your waterline flooded with tears as they dripped down your cheeks. “Sammy, gonna cum, please, don’t stop,” You pleaded. You tilted your head back, looking up at Sam as he pounded into you. His hand left your hair, slithering down to your throat. He squeezed the sides, restricting your airway. “Go on then, cum on my cock,” Sam muttered, thrust away from orgasming himself.

Your walls spasmed around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as Sam fucked you through your orgasm. You were seeing stars, your final orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Sam pulled out quickly, his ropes of cum painting your ass and lower back.

He felt euphoric, the paradise he had been seeking right in front of him, covered in his cum. Your body was spent, your heart pounding in your chest as you came down from your high. Sam scrambled to find something to clean you up with, deciding his shirt would have to suffice. He wiped his seed off of your ass, gently helping you roll over onto your back.

A faint smile creeped across your lips, your mascara smudged and running down your cheeks. “The cumming on my face thing was hot, we should do that again,” You admitted, allowing Sam to clean your face. He chuckled at your confession, admiring your fresh face.

“I figured you’d like it.”

With all of the energy you had left you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. This kiss was different, the desperation gone. Replaced with a certain sweetness and passion Sam hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands cupped your face, deepening the kiss. The sound of his ringtone, halted him from continuing. He mumbled an apology, digging his phone out of his discarded jeans.

“Oh shit it’s Colby, hang on.” Sam informed you. He resumed his place beside you on the floor, your soft lips leaving pecks of kisses on his shoulder.

“Hey brother, what’s up?”

“You want to explain to me why you’re at my little sister’s dorm?”

Shit.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏

pairing: aemond targaryen x daemon's daughter!oc (dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au)

author's note: to be honest, i wasn't going to do this. but i know there's at least 10 people that actually like the whole dad!daemon au, so here's the start of alymond's relationship. young adult!alyssa is entirely inspired by bea miller's album "aurora", so that's the kind of vibe i'm going for her. (also, let's suppose laena married some lord and had baela and rhaena.)

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you liked my work, and enjoy your reading.

warnings: really fluff, aemond being nice for the first time in his life, and alyssa being a baddie raised by daddy daemon.

gif by @queenage.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

"You must admit, he is really handsome." Rhaena said with a wicked smirk.

Alyssa scoffed. Ever since her friends discovered her betrothal they have been teasing her constantly.

Years had passed, and everyone, especially the King, still picked on that betrothal matter.

"He is an one-eyed arrogant twat, and nothing but that."

She also thought her cousin, Aemond, was a very talented warrior, but still an arrogant twat.

The girls had a free pass to watch the boys training, but not to train themselves.

Alyssa liked to observe their movements, she could learn a thing or two from that.

Her brothers weren't in the field that day.

"Only here to watch, girls? Join the fun! I bet I could keep you entertained." Prince Aegon said in a mocking tone.

"You know we can't, my prince." Baela replied, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, c'mon! I promise to take it easy on you, ladies."

Aemond silently watched his brother's provocations.

The princess had been wearing ringmail all day, so she was the only one between the girls appropriately dressed to training.

"C'mon Alyssa, let's see if your pretty hands can work! If you rather, I could teach you other ways to make them work in private."

Smirking, Alyssa unsheathed Doombringer.

"Please, do take it easy on me, dear cousin." She faked a plead in a sweet voice.

Aemond crossed his arms and watched in a corner. He already knew how well the princess' little hands could work. One of his eyes now was history.

Like the One-Eyed Prince expected, Alyssa effortlessly defeated Prince Aegon.

Once the tip of the valyrian steel of her sword made contact with the prince's pale skin of his cheek, he called for surrender.

"You are going to regret this!" Aegon warned, as he left the training camp with a bleeding cheek.

Baela and Rhaena followed him right after.

Aemond smirked wickedly and came closer to his cousin. She was too distracted, cleaning her blade, to notice his presence.

"That was impressive."

The princess sneared, "You're not impressed, just trying to make small talk. I'm not interested, Aemond."

"Don't you ever lower your guard? I'm trying to be nice, and you know I don't do that very often."

"Do you?" Alyssa cocked an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Lower your guard?"

Aemond frowned. A tension made appearance between them.

"You should go, Aemond. Your mommy is not gonna be very happy if she sees you getting intimate with the Eye Ripper Lady." Alyssa turned around, and her body crashed into his chest.

Until now, she never noticed how close he really was to her, and how his tall body towered over hers.

"It's not like your daddy would be thrilled either. Also, I am having a nice conversation with my betrothed, as you still remain engaged to me."

"Keep dreaming, One Eye. The King can squirms all he wants, but you know 'us' it's never going to happen. And I know you are just accepting this to frustrate my family."

Alyssa tried to flee away but the prince closed his hand around her fist, pulling her back to him.

"Perhaps. But it's so difficult to believe that I wouldn't be so opposed to this union? Think about all the future little dragonriders we could bring into this world" Aemond teased, his face became closer to hers.

"If you keep talking, I'm literally going to take your other eye with my own hand!" The blonde princess hissed.

"I dare you." Aemond widely opened his eye, looking even more terrifying than he already was.

The princess hooked her hand and tried to attack his face, aiming for his eye. He was quicker to grab both her fists and hold them against her back.

She was at his mercy.

"I admire your courage, cousin. How'd you think uncle Daemon would react if I gave you an eyepatch too?" He smiled.

There was something so attractive about his psychotic smile.

"He'd free your head from your body and give it to me as a souvenir"

"And how'd you think he'd react if I gave you a kiss?" Aemond whispered, his lips almost brushed against hers.

Alyssa swallowed hard, too stunned to speak.

"I don't think he needs to know." The prince answered his own question.

He kissed her. Alyssa squirmed against his hold, but a few seconds later she accepted his lips, and opened her mouth to him.

That was her first intimate moment with a man.

When their lips were apart, she stared at him. She was in shock, and he couldn't stop smirking to her reaction.

He thought it was adorable.

"It's our secret. Marry me, and maybe we can do this again." Aemond muttered close to her ear.

He let go of her, and left before she could react to what just happened between them.

[the-l00ker]

I need to know. I do.

So people... Genuinely believe... The AI generated looking account of being Shelby's cousin is real?

For context someone who said they were Shelby's cousin blames shelby for the abuse, said she mad them cry and that she did it to herself. And that she was yelling at Wilbur and to support Wilbur.

Shelby commented on it saying that she only had one cousins and it clearly wasn't them.

Now people are questioning why "she got so defensive" to a fan account.

Context over.

All I have to say is... BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?-

Your going to tell me, WITH CONFIDENCE Shelby, her friends and her family don't know who own cousin is?

Your going to tell me that everything Shelby's said doesn't line up? "he had hole in his walls" Fundy did a vlog with Wilbur that showed IN THE VIDEOS that Wilbur did indeed have holes in his walls. Fundy even said it looked gross.

"he was violent" over the last couple years. Not now. YEARS. Content creator and non-content creator have said be was a violent man.

Minx said he was violent but was written off as an alcoholic.

Bilzo was written off as a small content creator.

Niki was told she should THANK HIM because he made her.

Other were seen as clout-chasers.

And it took one, mentally stable and popular person to be like "Hey he's a bad guy" for people to go back and look huh.. Maybe he is bad.

There are people who already knew and were being validated. People who were annoyed because they said there piece and got shit for it and now had people back-tracking when it was too late.

Heck even Scott Smajor said Live on stream that he'd obliviously knew longer then anyone else and that's why Wilbur was no longer in MCC videos.

And suddenly your like, "she's getting a bit defensive isn't she?" Well yeah.

She's human.

That's like telling someone, "your family didn't actually get hurt", "they did. You know they did" then them being like "OMG THEY'RE SINGLING ME OUT THIS PROVES THEY'RE LYING!"

Do you know how stupid that sounds when you write it out. And then to assume that no one talked to anyone in private about anything?

Do you really think that Wilbur's friends AND random people would have co-ordinate an attack on him for like 3-5 years straight?

And this is straight the Emma situation. People are seeing that you can create a "successful" allegations using AI and have younger audiences BELIEVE IT.

You assume this allegation is true but don't assume that someone could be using AI to write that (because it was screenshot of text with a popular image of Wilbur in the background) because they like him?

Did you not assume that maybe... Just maybe, someone would (like Emma) make up some random BS for personal gain and then exploit it?

Did you not assume that with an Apology come with the acknowledgement that you did those things? Because Wilbur didn't deny it. He expressed he did do it actually, he just did a terrible job of justify it.

Did your assumption not lead you to the conclusion that text is easier to fake then a real person with real tears telling you?

Did you not assume that it's become a trend to fake things for clout?

Did you not look back and go "but there was tons of evidence BEFORE shelby said anything"?

Did you not go back and think, shelby's a person and she's allowed to be upset. She also knows her own family and probably know the social media account that her family uses, so it can't certainly be that person?

Or do you have your values so far up, that you cannot see AI when its right in front of you.

If you can't see one of these many things, then either you need to think about yourself and do some soul searching or your genuinely deluded.

There was even a comment say it looks like an AI generated response, and guess what? When I went back to take a ss of it for this post the user had suddenly been reported and suddenly couldn't use there account.

Weird right?

Also it you're a "oh I'm neutral on the matter. I don't support anyone" person. I hope you seek a conclusion because you clearly can't see the one in front of you.

And to the "But what if was really?" or "support Wilbur" squad. Refer to all previous points and if you still have this opinion, I kindly ask you to leave. Touch grass. Go back to school. And to hopefully better yourself as a person.

[fyodorloveclub]

hello all !!! in my attempt to raise money and awareness for the genocide occurring in palestine, i will be participating in @ficsforgaza's “sponsor a WIP” event - where you donate to a reputable Palestinian fundraiser, and i post one of my current WIPs in return!

how it works:

$1 (USD) = 100 words. below are my current wip's with approximate word counts; you send me a screenshot of your donation to a vetted gaza fundraiser (list found here) and based on how much you donated, i'll write that amount on the wip of your choosing! your asks will NOT be published and all information will be kept private. reminder that minors are NOT allowed to interact with me, so unfortunately even if you donate, i will not write for you if you do not have a visible age on your blog. (i more than encourage you to donate or reach out to other creators, that's unfortunately just a boundary of mine.) reach out to me with any questions you have!!

i will regularly update this post with word counts as they change, as well as cw's if anything new arises!

WIPs below!! beware of dark content! (any and all hate towards dc will not be acknowledged and instead promptly blocked - keep it to yourself <3)

fics

tidal temptations (ch. 2) ✧ merman!fyodor dostoevsky x reader ✧ after stumbling upon an injured merman in chapter 1, you can't stop thinking about him. will he ever show up again? ✧ tentative cw: brief nsfw (fingering) ✧ word count goal: 4,000 ✧ sponsored words: 4,000/4,000🎉🎉 ✧ progress: 0/4,000

i can see you (tentative title) ✧ prince!fyodor x princess!reader ✧ against your will as a fiercely independent young woman, you've been arrange to marry a man from a far away kingdom, dragging you away from your friends, family, and everyone you've ever known. will the forced proximity turn to what you assume will be resentment, or will something different happen? ✧ tentative cw: nsfw ✧ word count goal: 4,000 ✧ sponsored words: 0/4,000 ✧ progress: 1,000/4,000

smutty one shots

pegging with toji fushiguro ✧ toji x gn!reader (can be read as reader having strap or dick) ✧ you've always wanted to top, and toji has always been a little curious about getting fucked... ✧ cw: anal sex, bottom!toji, top!reader, oral (m receiving), etc ✧ tentative wc: 1,500 ✧ sponsored words: 1,500/1,500🎉🎉 ✧ progress: 0/1,500

pegging with son!fyodor (VERY DARK CONTENT!) ✧ son!fyodor x mother!reader ✧ "plot" pending. unsure where to go other than knowing i want reader fucking fyodor ✧ cw: BLOODCEST - mother and son (fyodor is an adult), anal sex, top!reader, bottom!fyodor, oral, etc ✧ tentative wc: 1,500 ✧ sponsored words: 0/1,500 ✧ progress: 0/1,500

baby trapping with rin itoshi ✧ rin itoshi x afab!reader ✧ after star striker rin itoshi gets into some hot water in the press after punching an opponent during a match, something needs to happen to save his image. the perfect thing? a pregnant girlfriend! ✧ cw: nsfw; dubcon/coercion, shitty rin, vaginal sex, creampies, more to come ✧ tentative wc: 2,000 ✧ sponsored words: 2,000/2,000 🎉🎉 ✧ progress: 100/2,000

age gap with shigure soma ✧ shigure soma x afab!reader ✧ unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend kyo's older cousin has always had his eye on a pretty young thing like you. when you venture to the kitchen in the middle of the night during a sleepover at his house, shigure finally gets his hands on what he's so desperately been wanting. ✧ cw: nsfw; age gap (reader early 20's, shigure mid 30's), dubcon/coercion, risky sex (kyo asleep upstairs), vaginal sex, oral (m receiving), etc. ✧ tentative wc: 2,000 ✧ sponsored words: 0/2,000 ✧ progress: 100/2,000

[xsister-serpent]

Earbuds & Intrigue - Part 2

Warning: 18+ MDNI, cursing, spicy audio, sexually explicit,

Summary: Goth!Reader is a supporter of a spicy audio content creator CraftedClassic on Patreon. Her routine office job takes an unexpected turn when she discovers that her new wealthy CEO is none other than CraftedClassic, the infamous spicy audio creator she admires.

A/N: Finally here's part 2 of the story, hope you all enjoy this chapter as this was quite fun for me to write. I made a little playlist for this fic and I'm super proud of it. LMK if you guys want to be tagged 🖤🖤🖤 Don't act like you office people don't kill company time on your phone. Kylo's username is: CraftedClassic and Goth!Reader username is DeathMajesty.

Tagging: @novausstuff

In the morning, you were called into the office with only a few people, including Maz. You reluctantly agreed considering you could opt out a day next week. Upon entering the office, you saw that your usual far corner spot had been taken. Sighing, you sat at the vacant desk directly adjacent to the new CEO's office. After setting up your laptop for work, you began doing your regular tasks. Suddenly, you saw Kylo coming around the corner. As he unbuttoned his overcoat, he talked on his iPhone as stoic as ever. Your gaze went back to your laptop, but your thoughts trailed back to him. It was odd enough that he and Rey were cousins. The simple fact Rey had told you all his dirt made you wonder a bit more about him. What he was outside of work. What he regarded as mundane? He always looked well put together but according to Rey, he’s barely keeping it together. Totaling 

 Kylo went into the office and flicked on the lights. For someone who didn’t speak at all, he certainly had a commanding presence. You could hear him typing away on his laptop and soon enough a clicking of his mouth escaped him. Something was up, you concluded. You heard him whisper a drawn-out ‘What’ from his office in a disappointed sigh.

 Before you could message Rose you could hear his footsteps come back out of his office. You placed your phone back on your desk as if you were only checking the time. 

 Kylo slouched against the door frame as he looked at his watch.

“Why is no one ready?” he mumbled looking at his watch again and then at the door. He had his sleeves rolled up to his muscular forearms. 

 Rose was right, he was a male Miranda Priestly. You kept your eyes on your laptop screen until his gaze caught yours. 

“Morning Y/N,” he greeted with a nod.

“Morning,” you answered.

“Could you CC me in those monthly reports you give to Maz?”

“Sure,” you nodded adding him to your mass email. 

This was the first time you had to CC anyone bigger than Mazz on your emails, which sent you a little spike of anxiety but if the CEO needs it then so be it. You were confident in your work and you had the backup info to prove it. You could still feel Kylo’s gaze on you as you went back to your work. You tried to tune him out as you knew you had stares everywhere you went. 

“I’m sorry, but, I think I’ve seen you before,” he spoke as he walked over to your desk, “Do you know Phas? Tall blonde woman?”

 Kylo kept a respectable distance however it still felt like he was towering over you.  

“No, I’m Rey's roommate actually,” You explained turning in your chair to face him.

 Kylo’s eyebrow rose slightly, “Ah, yeah, you’re on her socials right?”

 You nodded, “Yeah we signed on that two-bedroom apartment in Ferrix.”

“Ferrix? That’s a quiet neighborhood,” His eyes were on the door once more, “What time do the supervisors come in??”

“They should be in any second now,” I answered. 

 Meeting with the supervisors wasn’t new but Kylo’s stance was a bit like watching a shark wait for unsuspecting prey. Something was definitely up. 

Before he could say anything Mr. Pryde along with a few other older supervisors came in each laughing until they all laid their eyes on Kylo. The room went silent as Kylo walked over to them. 

“Gentlemen, the meeting was at 7:30 am,” he spoke with an unnerving calmness

 Each of them went silent as they followed Kylo into the room. As the door closed you immediately messaged Rose. 

Y/N: Someone is getting fired with eye emojis.

Rose: Damn. I’d hate to be a manager 

Y/N: I’ll keep you updated 

 You saw Maz show up with her laptop along with a smile at you. When she opened the door however you could hear Kylo’s firm voice.

“Maz and her team are the only ones who's been updating logs!,” Kylo reprimanded the room, “How could any of you miss this crucial mis-..” 

Maz looked back at you with wide eyes as she closed the door behind her. 

Kylo’s harsh critics could be heard through the walls along with another woman’s voice was seemed to be on call. You placed your other earbuds in and began to catch up on your drafting work. Hours flew by and it hit your lunch break finally. 

 You grabbed your leftovers and began to walk over to the lunch room/ break room alone. You could still hear all the supervisors talking amongst one another along with Kylo’s baritone voice. 

You shook your head and left the area, “Not my pig, not my farm.” 

Soon you heard the door open, and a million voices began speaking at once. You paused your snack mid-bite as Maz came into the room with a small smile on her face. She looked outwards and then back at you with a grateful sigh, “You have spared the entire team from Kylo’s wrath.”

 “What really??” You urgently whispered, “Maz what the hell happened in there? I could hear him through the walls.”

“A blood bath that’s what happened,” she sighed quietly as she made herself coffee, “Kylo’s cracking down on the departments and he’s not taking any prisoners.”

“That makes sense, he’d ask me to send him my monthly reports now,” You answered leaning back into the chair. 

“Thank you for doing so,” Maz spoke giving your shoulder an affirmed squeeze.

 A slight blush came on your face, “So do I get a raise??”

“I hope so you deserve it. You know what, I’ll see what I can do,” Maz took a drink from her coffee as she looked at her work phone, “Speaking of the devil. I’ll see you around.”

 She left you alone in the break room shutting the door. A smile came on your face as you took a drink from your coke. It had been a while since you received some if any recognition, so this was a small win in your favor. You cleaned up after yourself and went out to your car for the last 15 minutes of your lunch. 

You went into your car and placed the seat back texting your mom about your victory. You smiled as she messaged you back saying ‘Of course, she didn’t raise a dumb kid’. 

 Before you knew it your work phone blew up in messages of praise from Rose, Connix, and Maz with congratulatory gifs. 

 You played your music hearing the thrashing of guitars of Rammstein as you beamed quietly in your car. You nodded to the music of the German rock band. You were so stuck on your small victory that you didn’t even notice someone standing outside your door. Until a sharp tap broke you out of your trance. You glanced up and saw Kylo. 

“Oh shit,” you mumbled as you quickly adjusted your seat and lowered your music, “Oh hey what’s up?”

 Kylo was a few paces away from your car, “Hi. Sorry to bother you on your break.”

 You waved a hand, “It’s fine, am I parked in your spot or??”

“What? Oh no, no that’s not it,” Kylo spoke clearing his throat, “I wanted to apologize if you heard me through that meeting. Maz told me I was a bit loud.”

 You looked at his stature once more although he seemed intense in the office, right now he looked like a fish out of water with you.

“It’s fine. I kinda tuned it out,” you dismissed. 

 A relief came across his face as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Cool. I’m glad that didn’t freak you out.” 

There was a pause between the two of you taking in each other’s appearance or at least he was taking in yours. You couldn’t tell if he was sizing you up or checking you out. 

“So uh Rammstein huh??” He mentioned your music.

“You listen to them?” You questioned.

 You could see his face slightly turn pink? His large hands slightly fidgeted with his key tag that hanged from his belt nervously.

“I’ve probably a few songs from them on tic-tok,” He spoke leaning on his car, “They seem pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” You agreed as you glanced at your dashboard and then at him. There was a pause between the two of you. You awkwardly looked at the clock and then at him. You always kept a distance when it came to higher-ups but that was because they were older. Kylo however was probably one of the youngest CEOs you had ever seen. Right now he seemed to be staring back at you, waiting for you to respond to him. 

“Do you have any good recommendation albums from them?” Kylo asked a little too enthusiastically breaking the silence. 

 It was a bit out of the ordinary questions other people had for you. Kylo looked interested, waiting for your response. However, before you could answer your alarm went off signaling that you had to return to your desk. 

“Check out Rosenrot and Reise, Reise,” you suggested as you exited your car. 

“Definitely,” he continued as he walked next to you, “I’ve been meaning to expand my music taste these couple of months. Hearing divorce dad rock isn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

  A slight grin came over you as he held open the door for you, “Are you looking for something in particular.”

 Kylo shrugged his shoulders placing his hands in his pocket as he glanced over to you, “Something heavy, enough to cause my father a heart attack.” A slight chuckle escaped your lips, “Hmm that varies, but Rammstein is a good start to that harder music.”

He glanced at you as he took off his sunglasses, “When you’re done clocking in see me in my office.”

A slight spike of unease suddenly came as you saw him walk into his office. You message your team saying you will be gone for the next 15 minutes for a meeting. You exhaled a breath calming your nerves as you went back to your laptop clocking in. You took another breath and grabbed a small notepad and pen just in case you needed to write something. You turned the corner and saw Maz conversing with another worker. Maybe she had put in the good word? You pushed your anxiety to the side and walked into his office. It was large and overlooked most of the city. His desk was large with black wood and a large leather-looking seat.

“Shut the door behind you,” he spoke not looking up from his work.

 You nodded quietly as you did so. You made your way to the leathered chair in front of his desk as he sat reading something. 

“Maz speaks very highly of you,” Kylo spoke his gaze turning back to you, “And after today’s work I truly believe it.”

 A slight nod came from you, “Thanks. I did my best.”

“Maz and I agreed you’ll get a raise,” He spoke turning his static gaze back to his laptop. 

 Your eyebrow perked up with a shock, “Oh great, thanks, Ren. I appreciate it.”

 “Keep doing what you're doing,” Kylo concluded with what seemed like a slight smile, “Send in Mr. Pryde when you head out.” 

 It looked..cute. You took your gaze away as you stood up from the seat and made your way to the door. You reached for the door only for it to budge. 

“Great,” you sighed in disappointment trying to budge it open.

“Something wrong Y/N?” Kylo questioned looking up at you.

“The door’s jammed,” You answered trying to open it, “You’d think this building would be up to date.”

 Kylo stood up from his desk and went next to you, “Let me try.”

 You stood back as he gripped the door handle trying to unjam it. A ring came, one you had recognized almost immediately. 

A chime from Audios After Dark. You gripped your pen as you swiftly glanced at his desk. No that couldn’t be. Thankfully you were facing the opposite way from Kylo so you wouldn’t give away any hints. 

“I’ll message Maz maybe she can move it on the outside,” you spoke taking out your phone and messaging her.

“Good thinking,” Kylo spoke as he tried budgeting the door again with a hard grunt.

 You heard another familiar chime, confirming your suspicions that he was a part of that community. 

That could be for any of the tags though. He probably indulged in a few of the female audios. 

 The door suddenly budged as Kylo gave another hard pull causing a few strains of his raven hair to fall onto his face. You could see his forearm flexing as he gripped the door handle once more. It was s such a mundane thing but the way his arms flexed…

STOP IT! you internally scolded yourself.

“Ah there it goes,” You commented seeing the door slightly budge.

“Thank God,” Kylo chuckled as he glanced at you then at the door, “You might want to take a step back.”

 As you took a step back he pulled back the door this time it swung open with force until it hit him right on the toe so hard that you winced. 

“FUCK!” He yelled in both frustration and agony, “FUCKIN SHIT!”

  That..that sounded familiar.. A little too familiar. You heard someone else say that..someone you had listened to. 

 Another chime from the After Dark Audios app rang once more.

“Kylo are you alright?” You spoke looking at him as he limped to the seat you were in.

“Yeah,” he winced as he gave you a weak thumbs up, “I’ll live.”

“Do you want an ice pack or something??”

“No it’s fine thank you Y/N,” he spoke gripping a leather armchair as his cheeks became red in pain, “Have Mr. Pryde come in 10.”

 You looked at him concerned, “Are you positive you don’t need anything??”

“No no,” he weakly dismissed with a wave with a stifled groan, “I’ll be good. Sorry for cursing Y/N.”

I’ll be good, that voice. That voice.

“It’s fine let me know if you need anything,” You agreed as you walked away from his office leaving the door open so he wouldn’t have to pry it open once more. 

 There was that strange hit of nostalgia, like trying to remember an old song on the radio. You went back to your desk as you heard another After Dark Chime coming from his office. A spark of curiosity came as you pulled out your phone. You switched your phone on silent and pulled up the app. You could feel your breath slightly hitch as you opened it. Your eyes went to the CraftedClassic user name. There was a green online light on his user name. Your palms became slightly sweaty as you hovered over the message board.

Just do it, you urged yourself, It’s a million in one shot.

 With a steady exhale you clicked the comments section and went under his status. 

‘Take all the time you need! Enjoy your rest!’. 

In anticipation, you held your breath and clicked send. 

An After Dark Chime rang through.

Directly from Kylo’s office. 

A hand went to your temples in panic. Silent internal sirens rang off in your head as you saw a message reply from CraftedClassic.

Thanks DeathMajesty,  I got a special present for my loyal listener when I come back <3 ;)

 You silently placed your phone back in your pocket and looked at your keyboard. CraftedClassic was your boss??! But how? Why?!

 A heat of embarrassment came on your cheeks as you folded your hands in front of you swinging your chair to show the back of it. 

“Son a bitch,” you mumbled in disbelief as the weight of the truth became heavy in your chest.

You knew his little secret. 

[batrogers]

Linked Universe Time with PTSD

My friends have gotten the brunt of me going on these rambles at them directly, so I decided I’d make this everyone else’s problem as well. Especially after the recent update and the somewhat... questionable words exchanged between him and Twilight, I figured this could be a salve for people like me and a few friends going “What the fuck” about how out of the blue it feels.

A comment on my approach to canon: I am aware there are things shared in the Discord that are creator content, and on the Patreon to which not everyone has equal access or can even manage to relocate again with any ease. As such, like I do with most fandoms, I will be discounting those as “extra-canon” only referenced to augment the “core materials” which I am treating as the Tumblr account archive, because that is available to everyone, without an account and without paying.

I am, of course, including all base canon of the games in this analysis as well, which is to say all the canon directly included in the games and not including the Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess comics. Interviews and so on are considered "extra-canon" here as well.

(Also I am in the Patreon and at the moment none of the “bonus” content is relevant to this anyways, for the curious. I am not, and have never been, in the Discord.)

Approx 1500 words.

IIII

I’m going to start from the comment everyone is making about this update: that Malon must be pregnant. Obviously nothing can prove or disprove that in and of itself, but I would argue that’s both not a necessary read of this and the mere question is actually part of my analysis: Link and Malon are, by word of god and how they’re drawn, in their thirties. They’ve been a couple since they were late teens to early twenties, and they very clearly want to have children from how they react to Twilight!

So why don’t they?

Infertility is suspected after two years of a (presumably) reproductive capable couple having unprotected sex without a pregnancy. If Time and Malon have been trying for ten to twenty years to have children (assuming their relationship started between 15-20, and currently are 30-35), they are incredibly infertile. It’s not out of the question, and a wild stroke of luck could still occur (my own cousin conceived unexpectedly after ten years of trying) but it does serve to investigate other reasons: maybe they had some reason they weren’t trying, either on purpose or because something was keeping them apart.

Something, perhaps, like a war.

The base game of Ocarina of Time does not leave Hyrule in a good state. We are told, in-game, that Hyrule was in a civil war when Link was a baby. His mother died getting him into the Lost Woods, where he was raised as an orphan. The Shadow Temple explicitly states it was used to imprison (and, strongly implied, torture) the enemies of the Hylian royal family. Ocarina of Time is the only game to use its unique script for Hylian, which suggests it wasn’t the original language and did not last into Twilight Princess later on.

Lon Lon Ranch itself is both very protected by location (very close to the Castle, close enough it supplies it with food and other supplies) and by a twelve foot log palisade. The castle grounds themselves have two guarded gates between it and Castletown (do they not trust their own populace?) and a vast number of guards on the hills around it. Kakariko also has guarded, gated entrances.

(This all has a game mechanics explanation, of course. Closing off each section with “gates” and high walls permits loading screens to feel justified and more immersive, and saves game data and space. It creates clearly defined, restricted areas for the console capabilities at the time. But they can still be interpreted this way, because that is ultimately still the world they built in the end.)

In addition to that base of implied precarious stability at home, we have the question of how the matter of Ganondorf was resolved. Time very briefly references pointing the finger at him and causing something to happen, but ultimately there is no result that would not have made the situation politically volatile for some time after. Even if they executed Ganondorf immediately, the bad blood between Hyrule and the Gerudo would’ve festered under Koume and Kotake as potential leaders. If they didn’t, and simply threw him out or banished him, the same would apply this time with Ganondorf still alive... and, if we assume that the Twilight Princess Ganondorf and this one are the same, he looks much older in-model than he does in Ocarian of Time which suggests this interpretation holds more weight.

It’s not really a question of “if” things devolved again after these events, but when and how badly. Remember, again, my comment that the script of Ocarina of Time is gone by the time of Twilight Princess. In addition, I've done an analysis of Twilight Princess game implications that do not imply Child Timeline has been peaceful, either.

But, of course, the question of what the games themselves leave us with doesn’t answer if Jojo went with this position within the canon of the comics. There is of course the potential to disregard this if someone doesn’t want to go the route of war post-game for Ocarina of Time. Many people just don’t want to write it, and that’s valid! I honestly don’t think Jojo really considered it.

But, there is evidence that could support it if you wanted to go there.

First of all, we have Time’s platemail. This is based off of the Hero’s Shade platemail in Twilight Princess. Disregarding all other factors, platemail directly implies a few things about Time’s social position at the start of Linked Universe: he has enough money, influence, and reason to have suffered the cost and length of time required to make what is extremely high-level, personalized (in size and design) armour. This means several things:

Time has social status. That armour is meant to be seen and noticed; it’s something that either was made for show (a “jewel of the crown” level of regard), or because he wanted people to notice it personally. He has money, or political favour: that shit’s expensive. He either paid for it himself, or someone paid for it for him. And he has cause to want the level of defense offered by platemail over chainmail or hardened leather. Platemail is uncomfortable. It's heavy, and reduces agility. You wear plate because you expect to get hit, and hit hard by something that could surpass chainmail or hardened leather. Something like a moblin... or an iron knuckle.

Malon directly references this in their visit to see her: “You’re in danger if you took your best gear.”

Time chose to wear his platemail to go after Dink, but this is armour he already owns before Dink ever entered the picture. In that same chapter, Malon directly states “all the times you’ve come home beaten and bleeding.” While they also joke that Talon doesn’t believe him, remember that Lon Lon Ranch is in a very protected place within Hyrule. A war that takes out the castle and central city is a war that’s very nearly lost. (Hyrule Warriors losing Zelda AND the castle was a devastating, near-lose condition and his Hyrule is probably in severe condition.) Talon can afford to consider the affairs Time gets up to none of his business.

But that doesn’t make them perfectly safe. Malon can fight, she’s been drawn with bow and arrow before. Lon Lon Ranch, as noted, is behind a tall palisade and there’s the implications that Talon’s deceased wife might’ve been a Gerudo. He’s also old enough that he was a young adult at least during the Civil War that killed Link’s mother.

And, somewhere between that picture of Time at sixteen or seventeen, when Malon promised she wanted to know what had happened to him, and the start of Linked Universe (a gap that directly implies that this was not the result of Majora’s Mask!) Link lost an eye and gained the markings of the Fierce Deity mask. And, with it, he gained what we’re told by Jojo (in a VERY old ask) is a terror of using it again.

I’m not going to presume to say what exactly his trauma might or might not look like. PTSD and similar things manifest differently for a lot of people. But it could make Time react badly to the visceral reminder of going back into serious combat. A reminder like, say, a long wait for someone to recover from a nearly-fatal injury. Add in that on long campaigns, letters from Malon may have been his only piece of home, letters that likely carry her terror for his safety with them nevermind the specific news they contain and...

He might not be in a good state of mind when setting out once more with one of the young men he’s pulled into this fight with him. He might struggle to think clearly, when he feels so responsible for their safety and remembers how Malon reacted to Twilight, all because of what he told her.

He might say things in a poor way, with fear weighing more heavily on his mind than reason.

[agendabymooner]

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated) || cs55 fic

carlos sainz x ofc (filipino!content creator!ofc)

EXTENSION TO RIDE HOME

Summary: Magdalena ‘Magda’ and Carlos Sainz can bring the two worlds together through words and actions. OR, moments in which the Filipino woman and her Spanish husband learned to love each other while learning more about what they know about themselves. 

Content warning: Use of explicit language, shitty Tagalog/Filipino and Spanish translations, a lot of Spanish colonial and Filipino history jokes, parental abandonment, brief reference to religious and cultural practice (weddings), mentions elopement, secret marriage, briefly mentions PR relationships/girlfriends, time skipping, what is beta reading lol

Note: The last part of this story is loosely based on the idea given to me by @clairalle and the song 'Paninindigan Kita' by Ben&Ben so thank you so much! ❤️

Letting you all know that some Filipino dialogue here are translated based on how I know it in both English and Tagalog language??? And also, there are some words in here that are the same in context BUT written in two different spellings - some of the words are spelled based on phonics or how it sounds. Enjoy xx

masterlist

i. 2016 — shit, ayos ka lang?

Ramona Magdalena normally had the patience for Tesco. She wasn’t sure what it was, but everything had her seething with no apparent reason. She tried to figure out what went wrong. 

It was only 3 p.m., for goodness sake! 

Her third year at the university was supposed to make things easier, but the way she clenched at the handle of her shopping cart as she sped through the aisles of Tesco showed nothing of the sort. 

She was so tense, her jaw clenching as she asked herself repeatedly if there was an actual reason for her getting worked up over something. 

Her mother, Alma, was being herself; she was merely calling to see how the university was for Magda. Alma only told Magda about her cousins in the Philippines and how they were looking forward to getting the “balikbayan” box in August, only for the younger woman to respond grumpily. Alma was a dear— so clearly Magda’s grumpiness had nothing to do with her mother’s daily check-in. 

She appreciated her mother’s efforts to keep up with Magda’s well-being; after all, Alma did everything she could as a single parent who immigrated to the UK long before she took Magda. 

So no. She loved her mother so much that she wouldn’t get unreasonably cranky towards her. Not easily, at least. 

But her questions withered away when her speed walking was interrupted by her shopping cart crashing into a figure. Her eyes widened, and she shook herself out of her thoughts. 

“Mierda!” Shit! An accent escaped out of the man’s mouth. 

Now, Magda had been a citizen of the UK for a while now— she knew when to speak English and how to utilize her vocabulary in a reasonable manner. But everything seemed to be in panic mode as she exclaimed, “Shit! Ayos ka lang?” Are you okay?

The man was still groaning, bent over as he clutched to his stomach. He glared at her for a moment as he asked, “¿Por qué no observas a dónde vas?” Why can’t you watch where you are going?

“Hah?” She cocked her head slightly. She only picked up on the first two words. Por qué? Why? 

He’s Spanish, Magda deduced. She stepped away from the cart and walked towards him, “I’m so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—“

“Obviously—“ he muttered hastily, still touching his aching side. 

“I’m also in a rush, and I’m so frustrated and tired. Three years into adulthood and I can’t make shit right,” Magda hadn’t even realized that she was ranting to a stranger as she rambled, “GCSE clearly didn’t do shit to me because I’m still here bitching about what to cook— punyeta naman kasi, ‘di ba.” What the fuck, am I right?

He stared at her for a moment, not even interrupting her as she spoke. But the silence made Magda pause as her face flushed red, earning a soft smirk from the man. “Mama said I have a problem with speaking too much without thinking.” 

He chuckled at her rambling before sticking his hand out, “We can call it… truce— I think is the word?” 

“Yeah, okay, truce,” she reached out and introduced herself while shaking his hand, “I’m Magdalena.” 

“I’m Carlos.” 

“So, like… you’re Spanish, right? Or do you just speak Español? I’ve only picked up on some words because they’re quite similar— or I suppose I learned it through some song from years ago.” 

“I am actually Spanish; good guess. And you said puñeta— I can assume you also speak Español?” 

“Oh, hah, about that— no. That’s not spoken in Spanish. That’s— yeah, that’s something.” 

ii. 2017 — irog means love

“Ate Magda! Totoo ba?” Is it true?

“Jowa mo galing Spain?” Your boyfriend is from Spain? 

Magda almost died laughing as she FaceTimed her cousins, who were certainly supposed to be asleep at this time. The Philippines was seven hours ahead, and with her cousins being awake at two in the morning, she could assume that they had a holiday. Everybody always sleeps in if it’s a long weekend or a national holiday. 

But she hadn’t expected their night to be spent gossiping about Magdalena’s boyfriend, Carlos. 

“Niño, bakit ‘di mo gamitin yang utak mo sa school kaysa sa jowa ko?” Why don’t you use your brain for school instead of my boyfriend? Magda huffed out her laugh, making her other cousin Paloma laugh next to Niño. Paloma’s laughter caught Magda off guard as she called out, “Oi, Lomi, don’t be laughing— ikaw ang nagpasimuno nito. Akala mo ‘di ko alam?” You started this. You think I didn’t know?

“Papa brought it up,” Paloma defended herself with a cry, “he kept calling you a national hero, and I had to ask why.” 

“Ano ba naman ‘yan,” what the hell. Magdalena cried out as her head slumped against the couch, raising it to look at her cousins on the screen, “Tell your papa to keep his mouth shut. I love Tito Gerry— I do, but he needs to stop making jokes about that.” 

“—About what?” Magda seemed to be more drawn towards her uncle’s joke that she hadn’t heard her boyfriend enter her flat with a curious look. He had just arrived from Milton Keynes, and this was a surprise as he normally arrived later than this. 

Carlos had taken off his shoes and placed his bag down, walking around the couch to sit next to Magda as he pecked her lips. “Hello, cariño. How was your day?” 

“Hm, good! I’ve finished my paper,” Magda grinned. 

They were so caught up with each other that the only thing they heard was gagging from the phone that the Filipino woman held. Magda and Carlos peered down on the screen as they watched the two teens exaggerate at the sight of the couple being too sweet for each other. 

“Reparations,” Paloma gagged jokingly, “but at what cost?” 

“Matulog na nga kayo!” Go to sleep! Magda exclaimed.

“Okay po, master,” Niño rolled his eyes before waving at the camera, “nice meeting you, Carlitos!” 

"You're Niño, right?" Carlos grinned as he kept his face in front of the camera before waving, "Nice meeting you too!"

“Yeah! Buenas noches, Don Carlos!” Good night, sir Carlos! Paloma giggled, the other side of the call abruptly ending before Magda could berate the pair even further.

She sighed heavily and tossed her phone aside, giving her boyfriend a look of despair as he giggled at her. 

“What did they mean by reparations?” He asked her, genuinely curious at what they were joking about. 

How was she going to explain it to him? Did they even teach at Spanish schools about their country’s history of colonialism? Magda didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Oh, just you know…” She mumbled, “Filipinos were originally Spanish people living in the Philippines. Apparently, dating you made us a deadly combination. Enemies to lovers, or whatever trope that is.”

“Reparations? Oh… OH!” Carlos exclaimed in realization, earning a nod from his girlfriend as he murmured, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, I understand now, mi corazon.” 

“Irog,” Carlos said aloud, making Magda hum in a questioning tone. “Irog, bébé.”

“What’s that, bé?” Magda asked mindlessly as she stared at the screen of her computer. 

Carlos turned his head in her direction as he said, “I don’t know. You’re the one who speaks the language.” 

She paused from doing her work, looking up at him before she pondered the first word he brought up. Then she let out an ‘ah’ before nodding. 

“So…? What does that mean?” Carlos asked. One year of relationship and his thirst for knowledge was an obvious factor that came with it.

“It means mahal,” Magda answered, remembering the word. She continued to read Filipino literature as she grew, not wanting to stay away from it regardless of the fact that she spent her last school years in a British school. She asked her mother questions whenever she didn’t have a single clue what a word meant, so this was a helpful thing to do, especially now that Carlos continued to ask her to teach him how to speak her language. 

“Mahal, like expensive?” Carlos asked for clarification. 

Magda shook her head, “No, not that mahal. Like mahal— you, mahal.” 

“Oh,” Carlos let out before he reiterated what she said, “mahal, like love?” 

“Yes, mahal,” she snickered quietly, calling him by the term of endearment. “Like love.” 

“So irog means love?” 

“Yes, bébé. Irog means love.”

iii. 2018 — patata, patatas. what’s the difference? 

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Alonso, you’re here just in time,” Magdalena grinned. The older man, who just arrived, shot her a confused look as she stood there with her lips spread out to a grin.

“Magda, hija, call me Fernando. It’s also nine in the morning,” Fernando Alonso sighed quietly, his hand running through his face as he looked back at the girl in the white McLaren shirt. “I think it’s too early for your optimism.” 

“You’re right,” Magda’s shoulders slumped, and her smile fell, her face showing nothing but defeat as she walked towards the Spaniard, “but don’t let my sadness get in the way of your duties today. My supervisor said that you have to do your filming for the next two videos of the channel— and you cannot, I mean CANNOT, back out this time.” 

“I can’t,” Fernando smirked playfully, “or can I?” 

“Mr. Alonso, with all due respect,” Magda sighed heavily, “I started this year. And if you continue to ditch your duties because I cannot convince you enough then I’m going to have to leave not of my own will. I did not last four years at the university just so I can have a manchild act so sassily at the person who’s merely trying her best, so please—“

“Calmaté, Magdalena. Are you okay?” Calm down. Fernando asked, reiterating his question and emphasizing the word you. 

Magda had anything but an answer; her lips pursed as she shook her head. “Can I… shit. Sorry, can I be excused for a moment? It's been a morning for me.” 

“Take all the time you need, querida,” Fernando told her with a smile, patting her on the shoulder as she gave him a grateful look before she walked out of the McLaren garage with a heave of sigh. 

Fernando Alonso pursed his lips as he caught sight of the young British reserved driver, calling him with a whistle as Lando Norris looked in his direction with a questioning expression.

“Norris, you know Carlos Sainz, yes?” Fernando asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Lando replied with a nod. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Do me a favour, if you don’t mind,” Fernando requested, “will you please tell him Magdalena’s on break?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Lando obliged before his curiosity got the best of him as he asked, “Is she alright?” 

“I think McLaren broke her.”

“Leche,” she swore quietly as she stood behind the McLaren motorhome. Thankfully, nobody else was there to witness her on the verge of breaking down. Otherwise, that would have been embarrassing. 

She had a bad habit of pleasing people. Living in the Philippines, with her mother working overseas and her biological father being a dickhead fuck knew where Magdalena grew up wanting to appease her friends and family. Her immediate family cared very little about the achievements she reached — they were proud, sure, but how she got there was beyond what they wanted for her.

Some kids who grew up in a Filipino household aimed to please, and Magda wasn’t an exception to that. She, however, did more than what she should have been doing. All thanks to the father she had never interacted with before or ever.

Much like now. She aimed to please. Maybe that was why she got to this predicament now; crouching with her head down as she tried to keep her composure. 

She knew that everyone would kill to be in her place— working for a racing team. But for some reason, her urge to please was replaced by her fear of discomfort and disappointment. Being in a relationship with a Formula One driver taught her a lot about the sport, and she landed herself a job in a team based in England.

Being able to travel with him was a plus, but she felt that she had disappointed him. She didn’t feel as good as he told her she would when she first announced McLaren’s offer to hire her for the season. 

Was this what most Formula One wives and partners felt? Or have they embraced that lifestyle long before the drivers became so popular? She wouldn’t make a good girlfriend for everyone should they find out that she had nothing but anxiety in her system as she graced the grid with her presence. 

She was a disappointment of a Carlos Sainz fan.

His cologne lingered in the air as she witnessed him crouch down in her level, his fingers pulling her hair tie off her head, letting her long dark brown hair fall as she smiled grimly. 

He was in his Renault fireproof, his race suit hanging off his waist. He made things more angelic than normal, and she loved him so much for it. His lips pursed as his fingers continued to massage her scalp. 

“Few more months, mi vida,” Carlos murmured, his soothing voice making her feel at home. “You’re doing so good for them. Don’t let them say otherwise.” 

Sure, she could be at the hotel with Ben&Ben blasting on her phone and her figure crying in the bathtub. She could be falling into the deepest depth of her sadness, but with Carlos ditching his team before the free practice — she would rather be here than be in their shared hotel room. 

“Now c’mon, mi corazon,” he pulled her up, “I’ve managed to get my manager to come drop off some pancit to the motorhome from the hospitality.”

“Pancit?” 

“Malabon,” Carlos beamed at her, pressing his lips to her forehead. “One of the caterers gladly took my request to have some pancit malabon at the menu. It took them a couple of weeks until they finally got tired of my constant asking.”

“Hm, you’re the best, my love,” Magda told him lovingly. “Though, I prefer palabok, remember?” 

“Eh,” Carlos paused, “patata, patatas. What’s the difference? Pancit is pancit, mi amor.”

iv. 2019 — magda, maldita 

“Carlos, bebe, mahal kita. Mahal kita sobra.” I love you. I love you so much. Magda sighed as she glanced over the notepad that her fiancé left on the end table of the side of her bed— their brainstorming notepad. “But do you really want to get married in a church? In the Philippines while you’re at it?” 

“It’s an idea, mi amor,” Carlos said while he continued to do whatever he was doing in the bathroom, making her listen from the bed as he spoke, “Just how bad is it?” 

“It’s nothing bad,” Magda said quietly, “it’s just something that I wouldn’t personally do. There is a lot of paperwork to do when getting married in a church. Did you know that? Not only that, but we’d have to attend seminars about family planning— which is not right up my alley, seeing as my mother is an unmarried single mother.” 

“Paperwork is what you are worried about?” 

“Why can’t we just elope instead? My Lola grandmother and Lolo grandfather did that, and look— they have my mom, my tito uncle and tita aunt,” she suggested out of the blue. 

“And risk getting killed by either of our mothers?” Carlos scoffed, “I think we should stick to the church idea, yes, mi amor?” 

“Did you not hear the story of my grandparents, love?” Magda asked him, thankful that he couldn’t see the baffled look on her face. 

“More than I can count, mi corazon,” Carlos answered, “they ran away from home, didn’t they? Got married and had your Tia Maria, then your Mama after? They eloped because they weren’t close with their families— but we’re both very close to ours. We can’t do what your grandparents did.” 

She sighed. He wasn’t even wrong. 

The Spaniard walked out of the bathroom, his face now clean-shaven as he sat next to his fiancée. “Look, we don’t have to do the church thing. It was just an idea, hm? I know you don’t want to get married in the Philippines either, so that’s alright. We’ll just send your cousins, your aunt and uncle to wherever we’re going, then we’ll get married. Don’t worry too much.” 

“‘M sorry,” Magda murmured, her fingers fidgeting with the gold engagement ring as she continued, “I’m a killjoy.” 

“No, you’re not,” Carlos huffed out and clasped his hand with her left hand, “you’re the bride. The bride is more than permitted to weigh out the options. If you don’t want the Philippines, that’s okay.

“Truthfully, I just want to marry you,” Carlos murmured as he pulled her closer, “if we didn’t have such scary mothers, I would’ve already married you. You and your YouTube channel.” 

Magda’s chuckle vibrated in his chest as she perched on his lap, “I don’t even know if that will even work out.” 

“I am sure the wedding plans will. If it doesn’t, our marriage certainly will work out for you and your channel.”

“You are a dickhead, mahal.” “I can’t speak the truth now?” 

“There was no need to bring up the channel, dumbass.”

“Mabuti nalang may passport yung mga pinsan mo,” It’s a good thing that your cousins have passports. Alma San Pedro, Magdalena’s mother, brought up as she sat across the aforementioned woman.

Magda skimmed through the spreadsheet laid out on her laptop’s screen, keeping her eyes on the things Carlos typed out on the guest list as he actively listed who’s responsible for the catering.

Alma continued to speak, “Why didn’t you want to get married in the Philippines? You’ve always wanted to get married in the Tayabas basilica— I could have had your Tita Marie look into it.”

“That was mainly because I thought you got married there,” Magda glanced at her mother before leaving a comment on the name that Carlos had just typed down on the guest list sheet.

“Lando Norris” — Magda San Pedro (monamagsp) commented: “He finally RSVP’d?”

Carlos Sainz (carlossz) replied: “Yes. He said he forgot to do it, but I managed to get him to fill it.”

He was still at Monaco for the race, but between the busy days of partying and racing he decided to abandon his friends and stayed at the hotel to plan his wedding with Magda instead. “Besides, Ma, the wedding’s in two months. Travelling is also time-consuming for most of us.”

“You’re so picky, anak,” child. Alma replied with a playful scoff.

“And you’re not married, Mama,” Magda shot back with the same amount of humour in her tone. “People complain about both, but we can’t find ourselves to care, hm?”

“Hay nako, Ramona Magdalena,” Alma rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. A rhetorical question escaped her mouth, “Bakit ka kaya maldita?” Why are you so cheeky/sassy? 

Mona shrugged, “Tita Maria didn’t take any shit from my private school teachers, Ma. She’s the one who took care of me while you worked here, remember? Go figures.”

“I can’t believe you’ve invited me to the wedding,” Lando’s eyes glimmered under the warm light of the ballroom hall as he excitedly spoke to Magda. “I know we didn’t speak as much last year, but the fact that you allowed Carlos to invite me? I’m so grateful, mate.”

Magdalena San Pedro— or wait, Magdalena Sainz stood across from the British man with a grin as she tucked her hands into her pockets (she had pockets on her wedding dress that she began to think that God was treating her right today).

The San Pedro-Sainz wedding ceremony took place in the Westin Palace of Madrid. With the hopes of celebrating the love that they shared for years, Carlos and Magdalena managed to get through the hour-long ceremony without a fuss. The romantic venue created an environment full of celebration while keeping it as intimate and private as it could be for their guests and themselves.

Carlos had already made his name known to the Formula One world, his talent being recognized by every fan as the season went on. But nobody knew who Magdalena was to him, and he intended to keep it that way — thus prompting him to keep his marriage a piece of confidential information. Everyone behind the scenes knew he was in a relationship, and with the hopes that he’d get even more popular, PR relationships were introduced and tossed in his way. 

None of the women he was put in the spotlight with ever lasted, and he was slowly earning the title of a Casanova. He didn’t care; he was just doing his duty and driving his car around the tracks while he worried about his partner, who now worked for a designing company based in London— where they both lived. Nobody else in the grid nor anyone in the motorsport community knew who he was romantically involved with. 

Magdalena was another story. She only began to record some videos about her lifestyle as she continued to work for some local designing firm, telling whoever was watching her videos about what she knew about this field of work or what kind of food she’d eat on certain occasions.

She wasn’t as popular as him, but she continued to keep his identity a secret. She lived an average life and she was quite content with it. She’d rather post a video of herself fucking around, but they’ve made a choice to stay private for as long as they could. 

Now Lando Norris was known to be a blabbermouth, but Magdalena had grown quite fond of him when he was still a reserved driver for McLaren as she worked as a PR coordinator for the team. They rarely spoke, sure, but she was certain that she could trust him with anything and he wouldn’t blab about it. Carlos was also friends with Lando, and they continued to be close friends, so Magda never protested against Carlos’ idea of inviting the younger man to the wedding. 

Lando then said, “I find it quite enjoyable— your wedding, I mean. It’s clearly not as big as I would have expected because well… Carlos told me that Filipino weddings are often big, but I love it! I’ve learned more about your wedding traditions than I have in sixth form about geography.”

“Gah, don’t even say that,” Magda rolled her eyes, earning a giggle from Lando as the woman continued, “It’s barely there, I think. We tried not to pour our hearts out into what they would normally practice in the Philippines or here in Spain. Some Filipino things are here — the food, my dress and my family — but it’s just something superficial, you know?” 

“It’s not even just the wedding that taught me a lot!” Lando exclaimed as he laughed, “Your cousins, Lomi, Niño and Lucia? Yeah, I sat with them during the whole ceremony so they kept telling me about wedding traditions and some superstitions: like how you shouldn’t have any relative marry at the same time as you because it’s cursed.” 

“Really? I’m surprised they haven’t said anything mundane,” Magda saw Lando nod at her statement.

“They also started to say that you took one for the team—“ Lando’s forehead creased as he said, “I asked them what they meant by that, then they only said you’re heroic.” 

“Diyos ko.” My god. Magda scoffed. Her cousins spelled nothing but trouble and god did she despise them at times. 

“What? What did that mean, Mags?” Lando asked.

Magda sighed exasperatedly, and with a defeated tone, she answered, “Making up for the challenge we’ve lost, apparently.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s— just ask Carlitos,” Magda waved off, “I’ve had to explain the concept of colonialism to too many people before. I think it’s time Carlos did it for me.”

v. 2024 — paninindigan kita (stand by you)

Mamahalin kita buong-buo. I will love you completely.

“So, tell us about yourself.”

“I’m Carlos Sainz— or wait, do you want me to speak Tagalog?” The Ferrari driver asked as he stood in front of the camera, his linen shirt in the view of the lens as he waited to be instructed.

“Directing this music video is the dumbest idea I could’ve ever made,” Magda deadpanned from behind the camera as the videography crew laughed alongside the band members, her voice being picked up by the microphone easily.

Their Philippines trip, which they should’ve made a while ago, was something of an experience for the couple.

It was the first time they’d been seen in public— with everyone finding out about their marriage after Carlos’ Instagram story slip-up when he accidentally posted a photo of Magdalena’s selfie that she sent when she travelled to the country long before this. 

It really was an accident if you were to ask him. But it was something inevitable, and all Magda could do was laugh and make her presence known not only to her fans but to those who were more than interested to know about her. His fans. 

Now, they were in an Airbnb somewhere in the Quezon Province as they filmed some form of documentary. It was meant to be a storytelling music video about their relationship and the romance that came with it, but after seeing Carlos’ script reading at the Shell commercial, Magda practically banned him from acting.

She was a popular content creator in the Philippines regardless of her living situation; she lived in Madrid with her husband for almost five years. And with her popularity in the Philippines came acquaintances who were more than willing to collaborate with her. The folk-pop band called Ben&Ben asked if she was more than willing to shoot a music video with them. Direct it, even. 

The song they released practically spoke about her life with Carlos. At first, she didn’t think too much of the lyrics and just enjoyed the rhythm of the song, then she realized how similar it was to their relationship, from the courtship (and her outward refusal to continue this romance with him at the very beginning) to their vows to love each other as they grow old, and decided that perhaps it was time to show to the world how they truly love each other. 

Carlos agreed, knowing that outside of his life as a Ferrari driver and a Formula One figure, he had nothing else in life but her and her alone. He knew that she was the one thing that he kept from everyone to provide security for his wife. He waited patiently for her — and it was now paying off. Now, he was standing in front of a camera, waiting to be filmed for his interview. 

It was better than the countless documentaries and the Netflix series that he had to do interviews and filming duties for. Because this time, he got to discuss his wife, Magdalena Sainz, instead of his car. 

“Can I speak Tagalog?” Carlos repeated, his typical confused expression being displayed before the others.

Magda shook her head, “You’ll butcher it, Carlitos.”

“Excuse me, Ramona,” Carlos gasped in mock offence. “I can speak it!” 

“Clearly not good enough,” Magda shot back, making the others laugh at the banter between the pair. 

“Your Español isn’t any better then, mi vida,” Carlos scoffed, placing his hand on his chest. 

Magda said, “There’s a reason why I only listen to you and your family when you speak, honey.” 

“This is what I have to deal with every day, by the way,” Carlos pointed out to their audience, making the others burst out laughing as he offered his wife a playful glare. 

One of the videographers spoke before Magda could make a comeback, “Wait, the camera’s still on.”

“Oh shit,” Carlos and Magda both swore before they both laughed. Their banter was caught on camera and they were laughing about it.

It took them good ten seconds to return to their composure as the camera stopped recording. 

Magda cleared her throat, clapping her hands as the camera began recording, and she instructed her husband, “Carlos, we can both speak English— it’s fine. Just speak in English, alright?” 

“Okay, fine,” Carlos rolled his eyes and muttered, “mi esposa. Muy quisquilloso.” My wife. So picky. The microphone attached to his shirt picked up on his comment.

“This is so going to the music video,” one of the band members giggled. 

Magda then continued with the recording segment as she spoke to her husband while she stood behind the camera, “Alright, please state your name and how long you have been with your partner?” 

Carlos nodded and beamed slightly as he stared back at Magda, who was smiling as she expected his answer. With a cheerful tone, he said, “My name is Carlos Sainz. I have been with my wife, Magdalena San Pedro Sainz, for seven years and three months and have been married to her for four years and six months.” 

“What prompted you to stand by her?” Magda asked as she continued to beam at him, not even noticing the heart eyes of the other people in the room. 

Eight years and still extremely in love. 

He answered, “Her determination, wits and her ability to stand by me no matter what kind of disaster came and went made me realize that falling in love with her was worth the effort to make.”

It was no wonder people thought their relationship had nothing to do with two worlds colliding.

Even with their constant light bickering, Magdalena and Carlos Sainz learned how to love each other through words — whether it was their native languages or their secondary ones. What mattered was that they understood the meaning of their love, regardless of what kind of language they had to translate it to.

fin.

[an0ther1]

Untitled pt.2

Leah x OC

A/N: A little more in my current project. I’m still getting a feel for my characters. Feedback/thoughts welcome.

“What are we at, one more week?” Kim adjusted the weight on the bench press bar.

“Abouts yeah. I make it to the end of the week without any pain and things feel normal, I’ll get to run on the grass with everyone next.”

Kim laid down on the bench. “Well I’m sure you know what I’m going to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your body. If something is off, waiting an extra day or 2 isn’t going to kill you.” She pushed the bar up off the rack. “Trust me.” She grunted as she lowered the bar to her chest.

“I hear you. And I won’t.”

“Hey Caps.” Beth came bouncing to the end of the bench. “Le, what time do we have the venue for Saturday?”

“Umm, 9 until whenever really. Though I told ‘em it would probably wrap up around 5. 6 hours for a baby shower seemed like more than enough.” Leah answered as she spotted Kim.

“Probably right on that. So we have 2 hours to decorate? That should be plenty. I think Steph has the catering scheduled for between 10 and 11.” Beth twisted her lips as she tried to remember.

“What did I do?”

“Catering. What time is that showing up?”

“Ah, yeah. 10:30 bouts. I’ll call and confirm on Thursday though.”

Kim put the bar back on the rack and sat up. “If we can get in at 9, I’ll schedule the cake and sweets to come around 10.”

“So we just need all the girls to show up at 9 to set up?” Leah switched with Kim after removing a few pounds from either end of the bar.

“Yeah, that should be about it. Caitlin promised that she kept a check on Katie and the games, but Stina is going to claim that she will be the one running the games so she can see what she came up with.”

“Good idea Meado. When Katie called dibs on games and said she was going to use a few “McCabe family classics” I was a bit worried about what those would entail. You really never know what you might get with an Irish family that large.” Kim helped Leah lift the bar to start her set.

“I thought most of Katie’s siblings were younger than her?” Steph asked.

“Ask her to name all her cousins some time.” Lotte interjected as she joined the group. “We talking about Erin’s baby shower?” The group nodded. “You know she’s right there.” Lotte pointed across the room to Erin, their social media content creator, who was sitting in a chair with a laptop balanced on a very round belly. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“She has her headphones in editing. She can’t hear anything.” Beth shrugged. “You have everything worked out with Dylan?”

“Yeah. Him and Tao have some plan that Dylan swears Erin will fall for. They’re going to tell her I have a children’s event to attend so I can help set up.”

“Great. And Viv has been talking to Erin’s family, she just needs to confirm the time with them.” Beth added.

“What about Dylan’s family?” Leah said as she finished her set in the bench press. “I know they're American, but is Dylan’s parents planning on being here when Gemma is born? They might be in by then.”

Lotte shook her head. “Dylan told me and Tao he doesn’t talk to anyone in his family besides his cousin Rose.”

“Wait, isn’t that the middle name they’re giving Gemma?” Steph asked.

“Yeah. Rose is the cousin he grew up with. Dylan talks about her like a sister. I think she’s a year or two older. But she’ll be there. So he’ll at least have some family.” Lotte finished.

“Sounds like this is going to be a fantastic party for our little Gooner and her mum.” Kim looked around the group. “But now, finish up your reps. We’re on the pitch in 30.”

Everyone saluted their captain before dispersing.

**************************

The week for the most part had gone smoothly. The team didn’t have their first January game for another 10 days. But Leah was finally going to be able to join team trainings next week, after almost 9 months, and the anticipation was wearing her thin. Several times she was asked if she was excited, or nervous, and repeatedly reminded that the wait was almost over. Almost. She was sure Saturday was going to be full of the same, though the full Arsenal staff and then some would be at Erin’s baby shower, so Leah would hear it ten fold. She needed a break. Which is how she found herself out to dinner on a Friday night, alone, sitting at the end of the bar top of the restaurant she had come to the previous week. She had come in a little earlier this time though, hoping it would be less crowded before the dinner rush, and she had been right, allowing her to get the same seat at the end with her back to everyone else. Tonight she would be any other diner. Not soon to return from injury, Leah Williamson.

Leah greeted Colin as she took her seat, ordering a glass of Chardonnay. The bar keep was placing the glass in front of Leah with a menu before she had even gotten comfortable.

“Would you like the chicken again?” The ginger asked.

“Might do an app first. Take my time and do some reading on my phone if it’s no bother.” Leah smiled.

“Not at all. I’d say the hummus is great. That and the pitas are made in house.”

“Yeah? Alright. I’ll start with that, thanks.” Leah pushed the menu back towards Colin. “And I’ll order the chicken a little later.”

Colin reached for the menu. “I’ll have that right out.”

Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled up the book she was reading on her phone. Picking the wine glass up off the bar, she took a small sip and relaxed. Colin placed a plate in front of her a short time later and for the next 20 minutes or so, she enjoyed her wine and appetizer completely uninterrupted while she read. The noise in the restaurant slowly rose as the main dining area filled and the seats at the bar top were taken one by one. Colin had just refilled her wine and was putting in her dinner order when someone finally claimed the last seat next to her.

“Is this seat taken, miss?”

Leah had heard that voice before. She lowered her phone. “No it’s not. By all means.” She smiled at the new guest. “Hello again RJ.”

“Miss Williamson.” RJ smiled softly as they pulled out the chair before placing their coat over the back. “Nice seeing you here again.”

“Will you be watching another football match?” Leah asked as she watched RJ prop their phone up on top of the bar.

“I was planning on finally watching Sinclair’s last international match. Figured if I did it in public I wouldn’t cry.” RJ waved at Colin and gave him a thumbs up. Clearly not needing words to order.

“Are you Canadian?”

RJ chuckled and shook their head slightly. “No. But as a kid I just kind of decided she was my favorite player and that was that. Figured after a month I should finally just bite the bullet and watch the damn game.”

“Mmmm, yeah, retirement games are hard to watch. She’s still playing one more year for the Thorns though, yeah?” Leah finished the last of her wine and caught Colin’s eye, signally for another glass.

“She is. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.” RJ picked up their phone and waved it before unlocking it. Leah couldn’t help but notice that their background looked like an abstract black and white print of some sort. Once RJ had the game queued up they set it back on the bar top. “You’re welcome to watch. But I won’t bother you if you wish to continue what you were doing.” They hit the play button on the screen.

“Thank you. I think I might try to finish this chapter of the book I was reading.” Leah turned back to her phone as Colin placed RJ’s drink down and refilled Leah’s wine glass. The pair sat in companionable silence as Leah continued reading.

“Who do you think is going to take the armband in the future?” Leah broke the silence after putting her phone down. “Sinc has been captain far longer than I can remember.”

“Fleming.” JR’s said with a seconds hesitation.

“Seriously? She’s so young?”

RJ turned in their chair and looked Leah straight in the eye. “Really?” They paused for a moment. “You, the youngest captain in England history, is going to say that Jessie Fleming, who is 25, is too young.”

“Oh. Yeah I see your point.”

“Aside from her age.” RJ turned back. “She’s been a regular fixture on the national team for about 9 years. When Sinc and Schmidt stepped off this field she was the 4th longest tenured player on the team.” RJ took a sip of their drink.

“You aren’t just a casual fan, are you?

RJ side-eyed Leah. “What makes you say that?”

“A casual fan generally doesn’t know those types of statistics for a player who don’t play for their team”

“How do you know she doesn’t play for “my team”?” RJ used air quotes. “She may not play for the US, but.”

“Ew. You’re a Chelsea fan?” Leah dramatically recoiled further from RJ who just laughed.

“No.” RJ smiled. A full bright, cheerful smile. “I am a fan of the players individually, especially Fishel and Macario. But not the team as a whole.”

“Do you even have a WSL team?” Leah raised an eyebrow.

“I do.” RJ smirked. “And don’t worry. They wear the right shade of red.” They leaned back in their seat. “Can I ask you something? None football related and not terribly personal.” They rushed out the last bit. “And you obviously don’t have to answer.”

“Well with those conditions, sure.”

RJ tilted their head. “If you hadn’t become a pro footballer, what would you have chosen to do?”

“Probably an accountant or something like that. I’m pretty good with numbers and enjoy that there is always an answer to any problem.”

“Figures.”

“What’s that s’pose to me?” Leah asked, offended by the assumption, regardless of what it was.

“You play football like a mathematician, calculated.”

“Oh.” Leah adjusted in her seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Thank you.”

RJ just hummed in response.

“What about you? You obviously know what I do and now what I would do.” Leah relaxed a bit in her chair. “Colin said you did something in media, I think.”

RJ glanced down the bar at the mentioned bartender. “Digital media.”

“What do you do in digital media? That seems like a, a very broad field. And do you work for a company in the UK?”

RJ took a long slow sip of their drink, clearly stalling as they then swirled the liquid in the glass before answering. “The company is US based. I do a lot of behind the scenes stuff, sometimes editing, camera work, desk stuff.”

Leah picked up her phone. “Must be a small company if you’re doing all of that. Is there an Insta page I can check out? Give a like.”

“Yes, we have an Instagram account.”

“Okay. What’s the name of the company?” Leah had the app open and was just waiting.

RJ had their glass to their lips when they answered. “-third.”

“What was that?”

“Attacking Third.” RJ repeated.

“Really? That’s the show that covers the NWSL, right?” Leah started looking at the company's account on their app. “If they cover the NSWL, what are you doing here? Covering former NWSL players or something?”

“Something like that.”

Colin approached with a plate in hand. “Ms. Williamson, your chicken.” He slid the plate onto the bartop. “Enjoy. RJ, did you want anything?” RJ raised their now empty glass. “Be right back.”

After Colin dropped off the drink, the pair continued watching the game in silence as Leah ate her meal. Her plate was finished and cleared away when the match hit halftime. “I should get going. I have an event I need to be at tomorrow morning with the girls that will be far more mentally draining than 90 minutes on the pitch.”

RJ chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

The footballer gave the other patron a soft smile. “It was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“I’ll get my hopes up.” They smiled. “Have a good evening Ms. Williamson.”

[thisismeracing]

hiii! i love your work! could you please do a couple headcannons of mick dating a desi girl! reader? stuff like meeting a lot of relatives, trying spicy indian food, going to indian weddings, learning the language etc.

Hi, love! Much of what I wrote was based on my experience with desi friends, but if something sounds stereotypical or even slightly offensive, please let me know, and I'll change it immediately. I hope you like it *mwah*

MICK DATING A DESI GIRL | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to desi people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

Mick loves listening to you explain your culture's traditions and history. He's an eager learner and more often than not you'll often catch him watching youtube videos from desi content creators or reading books that bring important subjects to the table.

He will definitely bring random cultural facts during conversations with his friends, and even call out people when needed.

He will love doing some of the traditions with you such as oiling your hair and all.

The first time he saw you wearing your traditional clothing? He choked on his water and kept staring at you the whole day, telling you how pretty you looked and how every detail was just so perfect.

He traveled home with you to meet the family and, of course, they cooked and baked absolutely everything for him, though your family was afraid Mick wouldn't want to eat anything or would be a bit taken aback, they felt embraced when Mick got there all smiley and told them he had no allergies, therefore, he could, and would, try everything.

And that he did. He accepted everything that was put on his plate and he made sure to give a very detailed review. You guys even discussed a top ten of your favorite traditional food (missi roti was on his top five, he even asked for the recipe).

That same week you took Mick to your cousin's wedding, and you saw his search bar the night before, it was something along the lines of "everything you need to know about desi celebrations" because he didn't want to say or do anything that could be read as rude.

He swore he fell even more in love seeing you wearing your shalwar kameez. And he LOVED to wear his beside you. Mick felt part of the family and it just warmed his heart how everyone seemed to embrace him.

You can bet during the whole party he couldn't stop thinking about how your own wedding would be.

Overall, Mick just loves you and loves to experience a whole new culture with you. He's very open and eager to learn.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys like it!! Let me know your thoughts *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @kenanlotus0 @dalsuwaha @mellowpizzapuppu @mickslover @iloveyou3000morgan @mishaandthebrits @formulakay3 @crimeshowjunkie @carojasmin2204 @fdl305 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @saintslewis @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv @babyiscrying @balekane_mohafe

[equal-shipping]

Kaishin Reveal and What It Means For You

Okay I need everyone to keep their shit together because I think this is being blown out of proportion. What follows is a quick rant about what the hell is going in the DCMK fandom and what is going on in fandom in general cause I don’t know why I’m seeing so many people lose their shit over something that was most likely going to happen followed by a quick lesson by a ‘fandom elder’ on how to ignore canon and make a ship your own. 

Spoilers ahead and whatnot. 

April 11th the DCMK 27 movie came out and information was revealed about how Kaito Kuroba and Shinichi Kudou are now cousins. Twitter lost its mind, Tumblr lost its mind, Discord servers are being created and now everyone is wondering what the hell should they do. 

I’m going to be honest, if you are a creator for KaiShin, please don’t delete your work. 

Either archive it or orphan it but please don’t delete it.

You put time and effort into this, into something you love, and just because the mangaka is so SO set in his ways of every single ship being friends to lovers does not mean you have to follow the same format. This doesn’t make you an incest shipper or whatever, it doesn’t make you a person who you don’t want to be, it’s just something that you had no idea of knowing was going to happen and I hope that you can look back at it fondly. 

Anyways, for those enjoying Kaishin on the sidelines all I’m going to say is Pick a Lane. 

Ignore Canon 

If you are an old time shipper then this may not be new for you. I mean Gosho literally had another ship that turned out to be cousins like at this point it’s ‘who is my cousin’ being played in the entire Detective Conan manga. You either already guessed it, are an active incest shipper (hi, hello, tis a me) or you are used to your favourites dying. This situation is no fucking different. 

Wolfwood is dead, in my head he is alive and well and treating his Plant husband right. 

Sora is missing, not in my head where he is kissing Roxas and Riku and Kairi and whoever else wants to get at the sunshine of the KH universe. 

Ben is dead, NOT IN MY REYLO FANFICTION. 

If you are a person who actively kept up with the manga or actively kept up with the show it is possible to ignore canon because they do not suddenly go super deep into being cousins and knowing about each other. They both don’t know if they are cousins or else the jig would be up immediately and the manga would be finished. You CAN ignore canon and if Kaishin is a ship that brings you joy and just serotonin production I implore you guys to choose this lane if you still want to enjoy Kaishin. 

It’s by far the healthiest option and teaches you how to curate your own fandom experience. 

Alternate Universes and You 

I was in the Hannibal fandom for a while and I clearly remember the ‘Hannibal is not a Cannibal’ tag on AO3. I thought it was hilarious but I would never dare to make fun of it because that is a prime example of CURATING YOUR FANDOM EXPERIENCE. 

Here are some examples on how you can start tagging: 

Not Cousins AU

Kaito and Shinichi aren’t family 

No Family Relation AU 

Pre Kaishin reveal 

Or just make a quick blurb of how you mean this drawing/fic to be perceived. Again, this is your experience and you get to make the space you want to make. It’s up to you to make/interact with the content that makes you most comfortable. Again, if you want to delve into AU’s then that is up to you and I think it’s a pretty good lane for those who just feel weird about the whole reveal. 

Stepping Away

Your moral values are your own, people, and I am in no position or even want to judge them. If you feel uncomfortable about this now, see your love for Kaishin diminishing because of the reveal or just don’t see yourself shipping Kaishin in the future then you are more than capable of measuring your response and stepping away from the ship entirely for your own health. 

Is it going to be sad? Yes, but they are fictional and I recommend having an idea of what you have in your life outside of fandom that makes you happy that you can focus on as you go through this. College, work, whatever hobbies you may have taken up–hell put all your eggs into another ship that you know also brings you joy! 

Do not let this dictate your day or your month or your year. This is just fandom, you don’t have to make a big statement unless asked about it, you do not have to justify your decision to anybody, curate.your.fandom.experience. 

I’m going to end this with a repeat of what I just said. 

This is all fictional. We are playing in a fictional sandbox where we can all make whatever we want in any capacity and as long as it is tagged correctly then nobody’s lines have to be crossed. If you just started enjoying Kaishin, find out how you still want to enjoy it or step away. If you have shipped Kaishin for a while, do the same fucking thing! The east side of the fandom is having a field day with the movie, why can’t the west have some fun too?! 

I’m going to ship Kaishin (however all my reblogs will be moved to my other blog for incest-y stuff and just other content people may not vibe with in general) and hell I might just join the Kaishin Big Bang for the hell of it because I have been shipping this ship since I was 15 years old and I’m about to be 30 so….I’m staying fucking seated cause you aren’t getting me out of this chair, Aoyama, you aren’t getting me to ship Aoko with anyone other an Akako so suck on that. 

Be safe, be smart and curate y’all.

[sunsetcougar]

Welcome to my blog!

So to start off a bit of information about me, the one running the operation.

I go by Sunset and my pronouns are she/her/hers. I’m an AU and angst enthusiast and those two things often go hand in hand. My current hyper fixation is Hazbin Hotel and I have a life long special interest in biology, specifically zoology and ecology. I’m a sapphic aromantic and hate of any sort is not welcome here. I can and will block liberally.

So! On to my AUs! I’ve got two main ones going at the moment so I’ll give you a quick rundown of each and a link to the origin post. Plus their tags will be in the tags of this post.

A quick note about both is a lot of the content and world building for them takes place in discussion threads, so it would be beneficial to not just read the base posts and my responses to asks, but the full threads.

Cannibal Angel AU

No Angel Dust hasn’t developed a taste for sinner flesh (no you aren’t the only one to make that mistake), rather after an Extermination the cannibal colony finds itself with a newly fallen angel to take care of.

Remember that little cannibal boy Vaggie spared the day she fell? Well this AU explores the idea of what if he made it back to Cannibal Town and brought them back to Vaggie before Charlie found her. Now instead of being nursed back to health and taught about Hell by its princess, Vaggie finds herself taken in by Rosie and the cannibal colony.

Featuring: Vaggie being the cannibal equivalent of that one vegan cousin!

Origin Post

Hawk Feather Exorcists AU

This… wasn’t meant to have a plot. But it does now. The idea behind this AU, nicknamed the Hawk Feather AU, is what if like how Adam and Lilith were made from dust and Eve from Adam’s rib, the Exorcists were made from hawk feathers?

This seemingly small change causes tremors through the very foundation of Heaven and Hell as the much more bird like Exorcists find themselves rejected by Heaven for the very nature they were created to have in the first place.

Featuring: redemption via breakdowns in your enemy turned sparring partners arms!

Origin Post

Lore Summary

This AU has a co creator, @thesupernaturalhouse!

[antimony-medusa]

Hi! To preface: I don't think there's any one right or wrong answer to my question necessarily, but I value your opinion as a level-headed adult in this fandom who can probably provide sensible input on the issue I'm having, so I thought I'd ask.

If a CC asks for their character not to be drawn (specifically referring to fanart, which they likely saw on Twitter) in a sexualised way, what does that mean for written fanwork content? Is it "wrong" (putting this in quotation marks since that's a loaded word, to say the least) to write nsfw content about said character and post it on Ao3, considering the differences in visibility/CC knowledge of those platforms, as well as the general consensus/expectation that CCs don't generally read fanfic anyway? Where is the line between "you should respect the CC's wishes" (avoiding the word "boundaries" since that's also very loaded in mcyt spaces) and "you can do whatever you want forever; fanworks are created by and for fans, not for the creators" drawn? Does "just don't put it where they can see unless they go looking" (i.e. correctly tagged on Ao3, not on a CC-frequented site like Twitter) apply? Would it be better not to do it at all, or only create and share said content in private spaces like Discord? Or is this all a "there is no single 'morally correct' answer, make your own personal judgement" thing?

(Sorry for the long-winded question but this is genuinely something I'm struggling with right now, lol. As I said I value and respect your opinion and views about these kinds of things in fandom, so if you have anything to say on the matter I'd appreciate your input!)

Alright so, obligatory warning for discourse on this one right at the top, and possibly also long post. These tend to be me rambling.

This is a situation that I think it's fair that a lot of people disagree. Your personal comfort level with making NSFW content in general is not where my comfort level is, we can come to totally different equilibriums. And then you add in creators expressing that they don't like seeing NSFW content of their characters, and people end up in a whole lot of different places, whether that's a complete no on shipping or NSFW, or people feeling fine to consume it but not create it, or only if it's archive locked, or only specific ships or smps, or whatever. I think it's fine that we don't all agree on this, creation is a fickle beast and we are in a weird place as a fandom of being not rpf but kinda cousins, and we can get *really* close to the creators with twitch and twitter, so people's comfort level in meshing all the parasociality and roleplay and real life of it all can end up in a lot of different places.

I just think that the most important thing for the fandom being a healthy place to spend time on the internet is that we don't go aroud sending hate/abuse to those we disagree with. a) i don't agree with internet mobs or suicide baiting or anon hate in general, b) the number of times I have seen internet games of telephone happen when it comes to this subject is unreal. To use an example from literally today, I saw someone saying that Pac of qsmp pacmike was uncomfortable with shipping art and fic and we all should stop shipping immediately, and once I tracked it back to its source, it turns out that what had happened was the creator said that he wasn't a fan that all the art was of him in the jumpsuit that used to be his skin, he has a new skin now, which turned into sexy jumpsuit art was the problem, which turned into pac hates all sexy fan art, which turned into "pac is being bombarded with nsfw art and shipping and he hates it". Now he might actually also not like NSFW art, but that's not actually what he was adressing, but it was certainly what was being circulated! So like, people warning me off of certain subjects— how do I know that they're actually accurate or if twitter just went twitter on a passing mention of something someone said on a twitch stream?

So I think it's way way way healthier for us as a fandom to sometimes disagree on the subject of "what we're drawing/writing about" and when that happens we implement Don't Like; Don't Read, and we just ignore that, or block if necessary. Don't Want To See it? Simply Don't See It. It's a bad idea to start hate campaigns for sinners, and half the time it's based on bad information anyways.

But in cases that you do know that the creator doesn't want to see that, you found an accurate clip? So this is a case where I think that there's no single moral answer to this that everyone is gonna agree on. We're all coming at it from too many different cultural backgrounds and different streamers in mind and comfort levels with NSFW in general. I don't think there is a firm answer that is gonna make you morally safe. But my personal feelings is that in cases where we know the creators doesn't want to see that, I think the important part there is that the creator never sees that, not that we stamp it off the internet entirely.

I do think, personally, ymmv, that you are not necessarily doing anything morally wrong with drawing or writing NSFW of someone's character, even if they think it's weird. There's a long history of creators saying "you can't do [this] with my characters," and it happens to be you can't [make them gay] enough to make me uncomfortable in general principle with saying creator of the character gets to call the shots in all settings forever. This happened with Anne Rice and with the supernatural fandom and like— it's the internet, we get to make the characters be gay together. This is the making sex jokes about fictional characters website, and Ao3 is the making porn about fictional characters website. I think it's fine if it exists on the internet, the question comes down to one of what we're forcing the creator to see, or what we're putting where they'll stumble upon it. Like, examples from real life— if you have a friend who's vegan, it's polite to not spend time rhapsodizing about how good meat is around them, and if you know that meat makes them sick, it's polite to do a meatless meal around them. That's a human person you want to be okay around you. But that's their boundary for their life, not yours, so even when you're being polite you have no obligation to go vegan when they're not around. And they have a politeness obligation to not walk into a steakhouse and freak out because there's meat there. They have a boundary for their life, and I'm going to respect it, but my life is a different story, and they need to take reasonable steps to protect their boundaries and not just expect everyone else to conform to them.

Or walking by someone on the street and waiting till they're out of earshot and then going "jesus christ that guy was hot" to your friends— that's fine. That's normal human behaviour. What becomes rude is when you make it hot guy's problem and yell at him. Being attracted to someone in your own space is not a problem. I'm aroace, I am not going to be in a relationship with anyone. I'm not going to ban having crushes on me, as long as you don't make it my business. Talking about an attractive person in your own space is not a problem. Being sexual in your own space— and again we are talking about fictional characters, the way I see it, these are lies we're telling about folks that are not real, who live in little minecraft worlds— that's fine. The problem is if we start catcalling people about it.

When you walk into fandom spaces you are walking into a space where we all like taking fictional guys and telling stories about them and a good portion of those stories are going to include kissing. That is not necessarily baseline normal for like, all of humanity, but people talk about tv shows they watch as one of the classic work small talk techniques. Fandom takes the "I hope ted gets together with jessica" "no he needs to work on himself first" discussion and writes stories, is all, to share with each other. Privately. On our special private website where there's a button you can click to hide your work from search engines and another one to hide it from logged-out users. If you log into the website and search things up, no tags blocked, what you find is on you for saying "I will see literally anything that exists on this subject in a space meant for literally anything". You will find gore. You will find kissing. You literally just opted in to seeing it. That's on you.

So like, there's my little defense of nsfw work existing in general, I think it existing is not a problem. I do think that we should keep it FAR AWAY from streamers. They get to set the rules for their spaces, and if someone doesn't want to see sexualized fan art, I do think we should make sure that in a reasonable way, they never have to see sexualized fan art/fic.

So like me personally, I'm going to hit that Ao3 button to hide my work from search engines, and anything NSFW (or shippy, depending on the person) is not going to go into the main tags on tumblr or twitter or anywhere I'm aware that the creators ever check that tag, and I'd probably archive lock it if the creator had publically mentioned being uncomfortable with it, and if I was regularly posting NSFW I'd block the creators on social media with any account I discuss NSFW with. I want to make sure that I am talking to my friends about the cubitos, not catcalling someone.

And I would probably err on the side of caution when it comes to social media sites that creators are on? Okay so the fandom has a habit of saying that NSFW and Shipping is BAD and can't exist, on the one hand, but on the other hand it says that anything that isn't Bad Wrong Shipping/Explicit NSFW is fine, which leads to like— extremely sexy thirst trap art being drawn and then the creators are tagged. People putting family dynamic fics that really pushes that envelope in the main tag. Gahhhhhh????? No? Don't do that?

I think it would be healthier in the fandom if we did a lot more going "this is for the fandom, not the creator" and we don't tag creators on twitter, and we took our little kissing fics, or gore, or kidfic, or neurodiverse headcanons, or anything else it might be not for the creator to see, and we kept it in fandom spaces and away from creators. But Ao3 is that fandom space that you have to opt into, it's literally archive of our Own, for fans, in that space as long as you tag it you're good.

So the TL;DR of this all is that my opinion is that if you tag it correctly on Ao3 you're fine. Maybe archive lock it. Keep it off twitter. Don't make it the streamer's problem, and you're good.

[t-nd-rfoot]

Hi can I please get the 7th prompt from forbidden love w/ either bob or Mickey? Ty!

BEFORE YOU DO aka The Best Man For You

The most important decision should be made at your wedding, not before it.

Summary Mickey asks you to choose between your head and your heart the day before you get married

Pairing Mickey Garcia x engaged!reader

Theme angst

Warning/s reader is engaged to someone else; mentions of cheating; mentions of toxic relationship; emotional cheating?; conflicted feelings; prompt altered to fit dialogue

Word Count 701

Note Hi, Anon! Sorry huhu there was no specified list between the two forbidden love prompt lists so I just chose 😬 Also, sorry if I made you wait for this, I was literally halfway through my first draft when I realized the prompt wouldn't work with it 🙃 nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it and thank you for requesting!

Playlist (coming soon)

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

“Don’t marry him.”

Your eyes shifted across the mirror and found Mickey—your fiancé’s best man—locking the bathroom door behind him and rushing over to you.

“Mickey, what are you—”

You were suddenly wrapped in Mickey’s arms, forehead resting on yours, hands cradling your cheeks.

“Don’t marry him. Please, please, please don’t marry him,” he whispered and begged, “you know he’s not right for you, and you know how I feel about you, and I know deep inside of you, you feel the same way.”

Guilt and longing battled inside you.

It pained you to know that Mickey tugged on your heartstrings more than your fiancé did. He was a good man, you kept trying to convince yourself. He provided for you just like any dutiful partner would. He greeted you with a kiss every morning and night—sometimes, he’ll even look up from his phone as he did so. He always asked you how your day went—before he locked himself up in his study. He showered you jewelry and flowers—only once, you saw someone else’s name on the card. He is a good man, you kept trying to convince yourself, in front of everyone else. And that’s what matters.

But then there was Mickey. It always confused you how he and your husband were related because they were polar opposites. Your fiancé was a talker; he was a listener. Your fiancé was stubborn; he was adventurous. Your fiancé was extravagant; he was simple. But Mickey was also the closest thing your fiancé had for a brother, so you maintained a boundary. And while the two of you have kept things platonic for the most part, you couldn’t help but notice all the subtle comments and gestures that said otherwise.

And little did you know how it hurt him to see your cousin dangle you like a little accessory: nice to show off to everyone only to take you off and stow you away until he needed to use you again. How you had to ask for his opinions on the wedding plans because his cousin couldn’t care less, only wanting to ‘lock you down.’

“I leave for base the day after tomorrow. If we leave now, we have time to get your things ready so you could come with me. We’ll never have to leave each other again.”

“Mick…” Tears welled in your eyes. Not just because your emotions were flooding, but because he was right. You constantly tried to put out the flame you held for him, but you couldn’t deny anymore to yourself that there was always something there. But how would it look to his family—to your fiancé—if you up and left him for his cousin at your dress rehearsal?

Your hands fell from his arms as you shook your head. You wanted this too, but there was too much at stake, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to face the consequences.

“We can’t—”

“No, sweetheart. You can’t.” He didn’t even want you to finish that sentence, not ready to accept your decision to push through with the wedding that isn’t meant to be. “I’ve been wearing my heart on my sleeve for you, and you…throw it away. Every time, you choose him, and I don’t know how much more I can take.” His voice strained of the emotional exhaustion he’s put himself through to do this.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to calm down, “but please, please. I promise you, if you do, you won’t ever regret it. Or I’ll be gone. Forever.”

You knew he wasn’t just talking about his deployment anymore. If you pushed through with this wedding, whatever was happening between you can’t go on.

“I…” You couldn’t find the words.

He could sense the wave of emotions inside you. So instead of demanding an answer, he held on tightly to what little patience he had left and kissed your forehead, as though that might soften the battle between your mind and heart.

“We still have time. If you want this, meet me by the fountain outside. I’ll be waiting for you.”

And just as quickly as he came in, he left, waiting for you to make the biggest decision of your life.

Disclaimer  I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

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There's a marketplace for deepfakes in online forums. People post requests for videos to be made of their wives, neighbours and co-workers and - unfathomable as it might seem - even their mothers, daughters and cousins. Content creators respond with step-by-step instructions - what source material they'll need, advice on which filming angles work best, and price tags for the work. A deepfake content creator based in south-east England, Gorkem, spoke to the BBC anonymously. He began creating celebrity deepfakes for his own gratification - he says they allow people to "realise their fantasies in ways that really wasn't [sic] possible before." Later, Gorkem moved on to deepfaking women he was attracted to, including colleagues at his day job who he barely knew. "One was married, the other in a relationship," he says. "Walking into work after having deepfaked these women - it did feel odd, but I just controlled my nerves. I can act like nothing's wrong - no-one would suspect." Realising he could make money from what he refers to as his "hobby", Gorkem started taking commissions for custom deepfakes. Gathering footage from women's social media profiles provides him with plenty of source material. He says he even recently deepfaked a woman using a Zoom call recording. "With a good amount of video, looking straight at the camera, that's good data for me. Then the algorithm can just extrapolate from that and make a good reconstruction of the face on the destination video." He accepts "some women" could be psychologically harmed by being deepfaked, but seems indifferent about the potential impact of the way he is objectifying them. "They can just say, 'It's not me - this has been faked.' They should just recognise that and get on with their day. "From a moral standpoint I don't think there's anything that would stop me," he says. "If I'm going to make money from a commission I would do it, it's a no brainer ... [but] if I could be traced online I would stop there and probably find another hobby."