#history told poorly by yours truly

[quoth-the-goblin-nevermore]

I was looking into the history of Scottish sword dancing and one theory of its origin is that it literally started by emoting on some dead guy.

King Malcolm III straight up default danced on this dead ass chieftain and everyone was like “damn, he onto something”

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥

(request) Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Reader Kimi only allowed one person to truly know him. You.

Warnings: a bit of cussing, poorly google translated Finnish, and extremely brief research of cities in Finland. Briefly edited.

Kimi famously never allowed his emotions to be on open display for the people around him. He never let people see behind his frosty facade. He never let people get close enough for them to figure him out. He always kept everyone at a distance so there was no possible way for anyone to truly know the type of man he was. Excluding his parents, there was only one exception to all of it.  

You. 

Kimi never intended to bump into anyone on his break between seasons. He had chosen Pori specifically because he knew that no one he worked with knew enough about Finland to know where Pori was. None of his colleagues knew that Pori was roughly a 3 hour drive north west of his home town. With a population of 83 thousand compared to Espoo’s 310 thousand, it wasn’t an extremely well known place. 

Kimi supposed he shouldn’t’ve been so surprised when he bumped into you, causing your coffee to spill everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He never would’ve expected to literally bump into someone he worked with. 

“Katsu se!” You exclaimed. Too busy trying to wipe off the spilt coffee before it could stain your coat too badly. [Watch it!]

“L/n?” 

Of course you knew who it was, how could you not? It wasn’t like you spent a majority of the year around him, battling it out every weekend for top spot on the podium. 

“What Räikkönen? Didn’t expect to see me over break?” You finally looked up and made eye contact with the Finn. 

“Why are you in Finland?” 

“Am I not allowed to go home during winter break?” This had stunned Kimi more than bumping into you. 

“Home?” 

Your annoyance had disappeared a while ago, the whole situation was too amusing for you to be truly annoyed. “Räikkönen, just because I race under a different flag doesn’t mean I’m not associated with another country. I was born in Pori, spent 14 years here before moving overseas.” 

After that the rest was history. You ended up spending more and more of your winter break around Kimi. So much time that the Finn found himself opening up more and more around you. At first he had been the same cold, closed off Kimi that you were used to, but soon enough his metaphorical ice walls began to melt around you. He learnt that your mother had been born in Finland and had met your father while on holiday. You told him that your father had moved to Finland to be with your mother and that you always spent winter break in Pori. You travelled so much for the rest of the year you found there was no point travelling between seasons. 

Throughout your time together, Kimi found himself telling you things he had only ever told his parents. He told you how he had wanted to eventually settle down and start a family. He told you that he truly did believe that Formula 1 was a hobby, that it wasn’t just something he said for the cameras. He told you that sometimes, in the privacy of his own home, he often thought about his imaginary daughters running around and filling his house with giggles and bright smiles. 

Eventually, the winter break would come to an end, and you would both have to go back to the rush of racing every weekend. About a week before preseason testing, you had been hanging out with Kimi in your living room. Talking about everything you had done so far in your careers. Kimi had smiled when you started to laugh at the story he had just finished telling. 

Watching you laugh at something he said had him feeling almost giddy with nerves. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he spoke up softly. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes Kimi?” You responded, trying your best to calm down from laughing.

“Let me take you on a date.” 

“Kimi- what?” 

“I want to take you on a date. These last months have let me understand that everything I want in life, I want them to be with you.” He said. Taking your hand in his, he spoke with a sincerity you had never seen or heard in a man before. “Let me take you on a date and show you.” 

Your free hand had covered your mouth as he spoke. A month ago, when you realised what your own feelings for him were, you had become determined to never mention them. There was no way The Iceman of all people would feel the same about you. Yet here he was. Sitting on your couch and asking you to go on a date with him. 

“Yes.” 

Kimi gave you a smile that had become less and less rare the more you spent time with him. 

“Thank you.” 

It had been three years since then. In that time you had gone on dates in every country you had travelled to. You both celebrated every win and comforted every loss. Two years into dating, Kimi had asked you to move in and marry him and during the mid-year break, surrounded by both your immediate families, you had become Y/n Räikkönen. Kimi hadn’t cared about telling the other drivers or the media, and you had agreed saying that it would be far funnier if they found out on their own. So nothing had changed in your public routines. In your head you thought the funniest part of it all would be that no one on the grid knew you had even started dating each other. 

Neither of you had gone out of your way to avoid the other, in fact the other drivers often saw you both hanging around each other. Nobody had any inkling that You and Kimi were together as more than friends. Many gossip sources chalked it up to the two “outcasts” of the grid hanging out and left it at that. So it was a surprise to everyone when some fans had pointed out on social media that your signature had changed from your race number and maiden name to Räikkönen. 

Jensen and Fernando, being constantly online, had dragged Sebastian to immediately start searching for the Finn. What they had found was more surprising than your change of signature. Opening the door to Kimi’s drivers room, the three of them saw you sitting on the couch with Kimi lounging on your lap, asleep. You had one hand running through his hair as he slept while the other was scrolling on your phone. Looking up as the door opened, you smiled when you saw who it was. 

“Hello boys. Anything I can help you with?” You asked. Fernando was too shocked to say anything and Jensen had just started stuttering out incoherent sounds, so it was up to Sebastian. 

“There are fans saying that your signature has changed.” 

You huffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb your husband from his rest. “That’s because it has.” 

“But why?” Jensen had managed to get his English under control enough to start actually speaking. 

“Why’d you think it would change Jense?” You were having too much fun with this. 

“But you have never shown any interest in Kimi. And Kimi doesn’t show interest in anything, so when?” It was Fernando’s turn to get over his shock. “How long have you been married? Why did we not know?” 

By now Kimi was definitely awake, though he made no show of it. You could feel Kimi’s hand that was resting between you and the couch back start to gently stroke your thigh. You knew he was also amused. 

“I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you who I was interested in. If I’d known I would’ve told you three years ago.” 

“Three years!?” The three of them cried. 

Eyes still closed, Kimi mumbled to you. “Käske heitä naimaan. Nukun.” [Tell them to fuck off. I’m sleeping.]

“Luulen, että olet levännyt tarpeeksi, rakkaani.” You replied laughing. All Kimi did was groan. [I think you’ve rested enough, my love.] 

“If you wake up properly, I’ll give you a kiss.” 

Opening his eyes, Kimi briefly glanced at the three flabbergasted men still in his driver's room, before looking directly at you. “Teet kovaa kauppaa, vaimo.” [You drive a hard bargain, wife.] 

He sat up nonetheless and moved so you could place your legs over his lap. He looked at the others and spoke. “What else did you want to blubber about?” 

 Kimi was aware that he had a resting bitch face, and most times he didn’t mean to glare at people, but the three men in front of you had clearly been terrified of what Kimi might do if they stayed, so they quickly made their way out of the room. 

“I told you they would find out from the fans.” You laughed. A smile broke out on Kimi’s face. 

“I really thought they were smart enough to figure it out themselves.” 

“Sebastian I could understand, but we’re talking about Jensen and Fernando here, my love. They were never going to figure it out on their own.” 

“That’s true.” Kimi shifted you closer to him, so that you were sitting on his lap facing him. “I believe I was promised a kiss, Wife.” 

“How could I ever deny you, Husband?” You whispered, leaning in close and gently placing your lips to his. His hand moved to the back of your neck to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. Both of you aware of the three drivers that had yet to move from the other side of Kimi’s door. 

It wasn’t your fault if they saw something they shouldn’t’ve.

Okay, time got away from me for a bit but here it is!

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[jedimasterbailey]

WARNING! AHSOKA SHOW RANT DOWN BELOW! SPOILERS!

Furthermore, I’m going to be completely honest in this review so if you’re someone who truly enjoyed the show, you’re a Rebels stan, etc. then this post isn’t for you. Haters will be blocked immediately so take your negative energy elsewhere. You have been warned!

For everyone else, buckle up because I’ve got a lot to say and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this as well. All comments are welcome so long as they are respectful to everyone.

Okay, so now that the show is done for now. I’m going to be listing some major talking points. We’re there some aspects of the show that I enjoyed/appreciated? Absolutely! But overall, I’m leaving this show very disappointed, confused, and frustrated. The finale left me feeling empty and never have I personally been more silent after a Star Wars show. Now mind you I think this has a lot to do with the fact that I love Ahsoka’s character dearly as well as the Clone Wars and the prequels so there is bias here. Furthermore I am pretty indifferent with Rebels so going in knowing that the Ahsoka show wasn’t going to be…well about Ahsoka but rather a Rebels sequel, that already put a bad taste in my mouth and I was very nervous how this show was going to go and well…it was exactly what I expected from a Filoni/cheap Disney production. Without further ado, here’s a list of all my beef.

1.) Lack of a Coherent and Cohesive Story

So I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but my main issue with Dave Feloni productions is that the story seems to be going all over the place and there’s a lot of moving parts that don’t necessarily meld well together. I often think to myself that Ahsoka is an example of a poorly written fanfiction brought to the screen. So the plot of the show initally was focused on Ahsoka bringing Ezra home. Okay, that’s simple, there’s many different ways we can make that cool and interesting but that’s not what happened here. We’re just filled with a ton of confusing information and we’re in for a very boring journey heading for a very anticlimactic and unsatisfying ending.

For starters, we the audience are informed that Ahsoka and Sabine had started an apprenticeship (which I have ALOT of issues with but that’s for another talking point) but they got into a tiff (which we never find out about and/or see) and now things are just depressing and weird between them. First of all, anyone who has seen Rebels KNOWS that Ahsoka and Sabine literally had very little to do with each other; I can’t recall a single conversation those two have had in the past, nor was it ever eluded to us that Sabine is Force sensitive.

Second we see that Hera and Sabine don’t have anything to do with each other for some reason? Which is weird considering all that’s happened and their history but okay suddenly Sabine, a grown ass 30+ year old woman is Ahsoka’s responsibility, which again why? We don’t get any background information, we’re just expected to accept and go with it.

Third, Ahsoka and Hyuang are reunited and working together immediately but again do we know how that became to be? No. We see none of that.

Fourth we are told that Morgan Elsbeth, a one off antagonist from the Mandalorian that Ahsoka fought is suddenly a Dathormirian woman even though she looks nothing like one besides her outfits in the show nor was that eluded to previously.

Fifth, we are introduced to these two new…I don’t even know what to call them “dark siders” “non Jedi” Shin and Baylan (who is apparently a former Jedi from the Clone Wars but did we see that or see how he knew Ahsoka and Anakin? No.) but we aren’t given any reason to care about them other than they’re in Ahsoka’s way of completing her mission. They end up being more like time fillers that anything else and end up walking away from the big conclusion. Like…why are they even in this show and why should we care?

Perhaps Dave Feloni has this big grand story in his mind but he’s so far up his own ass that none of us get to see this story. It’s like seeing a little kid play with their action figures and they’re super passionate about it but as a outsider you have no idea what’s going on. Now this isn’t good not only for the sake of good storytelling but it’s bad for business too.

Disney wants to make as much money off of Star Wars as they can. That’s extremely obvious. However here you have a show that isn’t going to pull in a casual Star Wars viewers (they would have to watch so much content to catch up on whose who and what is going on) nor is it really going to pull in fans of Clone Wars and Rebels because while they overlap, the fandoms are different and Feloni hasn’t done a good job melding those worlds together thus the divisive opinions on this show. This leaves for an incredibly small niche of people and honestly I think whatever toy sells they make from this show will do better than the actual ratings. I would be shocked if they greenlit for another season because I’m pretty done with this story as is many of the people who would be willing to watch.

All in all this is embarrassing how Feloni and the gang with all the money and resources can’t pull off a simple and epic show when there are thousands of unpaid fanfic writers that could pull off a much better story and build these beloved up characters, which leads into my next point.

2. The Characterizations of Ahsoka, Sabine, and Hera Are Bad

Now I have mentioned previously how much I love Ahsoka but damn it upon watching this show, she may as well be dead. Ahsoka has been given the Luke Skywalker treatment in that Ahsoka has been stripped of everything that made her lovable in Clone Wars and Rebels and is left as a sorry shell of who she once was. Her dialouge is hollow and lifeless not like the lively Ashley counterpart that made us all love Ahsoka in the first place. And no don’t give this “well she’s older now” bullshti excuse because Obi Wan Kenobi never lost his cheekiness and charisma as an old man, neither did Yoda, or Leia, etc. Just because you age doesn’t mean you have to be lifeless. Maturity does not equate to emotionless. Secondly for a woman whose well into her fifties and still acts very much like a Jedi Ahsoka’s views on the Jedi and their philosophy seem very warped and the audience is again left confused as to where she stands on the Jedi. I mentioned in a previous post how I couldn’t stand Ahsoka’s negativity towards the Jedi and how nobody seems to matter but Anakin (even though he’s put her through a ton of trauma and has tried to kill her as Vader) because it’s just so distasteful to the people who raised her and loved her that died by genocide no thanks to Anakin. Ahsoka has zero character development other than she seems to forgive Anakin for his wrongdoings despite the nonexistent apology. For a show that has her name on it, she sure is boring. Makes me miss Ashley and old Ahsoka even more.

As for Sabine I probably could write a whole thesis on how unlikeable she is but I’ll keep it short. One, I find it sick on Feloni’s part that he’s having a grown 30+ year old woman act like a teenager and be snarky with just about everyone. Ezra, who annoyed me immensely in Rebels, was WAY more mature and grounded. And again I’m sick and tired of the Mandalorian excuse of you getting to be an asshole because youre Mandalorian. Shut up. No one is above manners and decency. Sabine’s actions in this show have been far from Jedi like and thanks to her immaturity, she left Ahsoka for dead once and is indirectly responsible for the death of New Republic officers who were trying to stop this very dangerous mission that could possibly bring Thrawn and the Empire back ensuing more death and destruction of innocents. Ahsoka deserves to be angry with her for her words and actions, but of course Sabine gets a free pass and her bad behavior will continue to be enabled.

As for Hera…when did she become such a Karen? Just because you’re an officer doesn’t mean you get to abuse your power for your own personal agenda. That Senator was right about her. Finding Thrawn is a threat to the galaxy and using resources and putting lives at risk for it is a big deal. Hera was depicted as honorable and responsible in the Rebels series and I swear I was watching a different person on screen. Also she is a major Sabine enabler and that needs to stop. Sabine is grown and needs to grow up and fix her attitude.

3.) Anakin’s Role In the Show

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Hayden and I love Anakin, I have the dude tattooed on me for Force sake so don’t come at me for that, but I had some issues on how his character was used here. First, I’m tired of Ahsoka’s relevance to Anakin being the only defining trait about her. Second, I’m continuously annoyed by Anakin’s lack of accountability in these shows; he never once apologizes to Ahsoka for all that’s happened, he never once’s has a meaningful conversation with her; he just basically beats her down until she finally lets go of her past. Did I love the Clone Wars flashbacks! YES! They were my favorite part of the entire show and I want MORE of that; but I so wish Anakin could have been reflecting on his own actions with Ahsoka instead of being like “Is ThAt WhAt ThIs Is AbOuT?” Like come on 🙄

4.) Ahsoka’s “It’s Time To Move On” Line

Are you kidding me Ahsoka? There is still so much more to unpack with her past such as all the other relationships she’s had that completely changed her trajectory like BARRISS and REX and she could also be a mentor figure to Luke and Leia, etc. But nope the only thing that matters is getting over Anakin and all is well despite being stranded in another galaxy and Thrawn being unleashed back home. Like THIS IS NOT OKAY!

5.) The Cheap Ass Production of this Show

I’m not normally one to comment on production but it was so obvious in this show how many corners were cut. For one characters like Thrawn look god awful. Dude looking like a blue Elon Musk instead of an intimidating villain. The use of fog and the volume were very obvious and the places we went to were so boring minus the red leaves forest. The worlds of Star Wars used to be so cool and otherworldly but that’s not the case nowadays and it’s sad. Also why does Force ghost Anakin look better in the 2000’s than it does now? I prefer quality over quantity so I really wish Disney would quit churning out these cheaply made productions and have the audacity to rise their Disney plus subscriptions and not pay their people well.

6.) THE RACISM

I’m so fucking tired of this y’all! 🤬 of course make the Jewish actor in the shipyard be greedy and power hungry. Of course make the Asian Senator the asshole and not any of the white protagonists. The antisemitism and racism against POC is unacceptable to me and it should be unacceptable to you too.

Conclusion

I’m sure I’m missing some talking points but these are my biggest grips and as an Ahsoka fan I’m disappointed. Being a miserable Jedi not Jedi responsible for bringing a new evil into the galaxy but being content being stranded in another galaxy is not the future I believe Ahsoka deserves and I sincerely hope they don’t continue this story. It’s just bad all around. Except for the Loth cats… the Loth cats can stay. And Clone Wars flashbacks.

[thefangirlfever]

DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 6)

Tags: F/M, age gap (reader is 28 and Miguel is 48), taboo relationship, mention of medication, depression and racial prejudice, reader is a woman of color, angst, mention of death and grief, slow burn

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

See the end for notes.

Words count: 6503

================================================

Miguel and you had come to an agreement. You were in charge of the dinner from Monday to Thursday and he took care of it the rest of the week. But even like that, he couldn’t help but intervene into your cooking; no matter how many times you’ve told him to “trust the process”.

“But how can you be sure that it’s gonna taste good if you don’t even follow the recipe?”

You rolled your eyes, amused by his comment while adding a last spoon of spice to the boiling soup on the stove.

“Who needs the recipe when you got vibes and confidence?”

He was now the one rolling his eyes. He hated to admit it but your recipes always managed to taste edible, good even, despite your inability to follow a recupe. You should have already been responsible of a food intoxication but you didn’t. Cooking by your side was always an experience, truly. But it also managed to help him relax after a long day at work. You even looked more relaxed while doing so.

You turned toward him, holding a spoon of soup and asked him to try the soup with a small grin. Miguel could only oblige when you looked at him this way and so he leaned forward to sip a bit of the soup. And just like he had guessed it, it was delicious. He may not be the most objective taster out there but it was still good. The creamy and rich texture made him think that you must have some hidden talent because he has seen you cooking without a recipe and there was no other logical explanation for it to taste that way.

“So? Not that bad, huh?"

It was nice to see you were feeling better now. After only a few days of his attention, you were already back on your feet. His gaze traveled down your figure, noticing your now rosy cheeks and the way you looked generally better. Maybe the countryside had a better effect on you than what you could have expected? But he couldn’t ignore the tired lines on your face, meaning that you were still sleeping poorly.

“Miguel…” Your soft, questioning voice took him out of his thoughts and he blinked twice, collecting his thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

“Do you...still have trouble sleeping?” The sudden change in the conversation surprised you but you didn’t immediately deflate the conversation or tried to run away, which was a progress in Miguel’s eyes.

“Yes, I do.”

“Have you considered taking something to help you fall asleep?” Miguel wasn’t surprised when you shook your head no. He still asked: “Not even melatonin?”

“I used to take some when I was in high school but...it wasn’t strong enough.”

His eyes opened wider and he stuttered: “In high school?”

“I was an anxious kid.”, you simply replied. He didn’t have any trouble believing that.

“I could get you something more efficient if you want…” You turned off the stove and shook your head.

“I...I don’t have a good history with strong medications.”, you simply replie. Most doctors you’ve met so far were quite insistent, always trying to convince you to take those type of things. But speaking from your personal experience, you didn’t like how they made you feel. And in general you’d rather avoid any type of medication.

Miguel didn’t insist, thankfully, and he simply nodded.

“Well...if you need anything, you can always ask me.”

“I think I’ll stick with herbal tea for now but thanks.”, you replied while smiling. And he gave you back your soft smile. You seemed in a great mood and he thought it was not the right time to ask anything about your history with medication. Plus, he was not on duty anymore. He could simply enjoy this moment with you, without thinking about anything related to his job.

The two of you were setting up the table and he had to remind himself to leave a good distance between you. Nevertheless he still looked at you from the corner of his eyes, watching every movement you made, from the very tip of your fingers to the way you balanced your weight on your feet. It’s been a month since your arrival and Miguel has felt something changing inside him ever since. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but he has been waiting with so much enthusiasm for every chance to see you. Every moment you shared had become the highlights of his week. And you were more present in his thoughts than he wants to admit it. Your father had told him how much of a nice girl you were; saying things about how the two of you would get along so well. But Miguel had this feeling that your father may have underestimated just how good the two of you got along… Because he had the feeling that was he was feeling when you were together had nothing to do with friendship or what he was supposed to feel.

You have also noticed how closer the two of you seemed to be. It’s not a bad feeling but you would have never guessed the two of you would feel this comfortable in the presence of each other. Maybe Sarah was right. There was nothing wrong in asking for help… And Miguel has been a great help so far on so many levels. He didn’t just help with the house; you have the feeling that he helped you personally.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel saying: “That color looks good on you.”

You looked down to where his eyes were. He was looking right at your sweater, an old one that you have found this morning in the back of your closet. You couldn’t remember exactly when was the last time you wore it or even when you bought it, probably during one of your phases in high school. It was bit loose on your shoulders and it hung loosely over your clavicles but the soft fabric felt like a blanket and the color really appealed to you when dressing up this morning. It was a soft lilac, almost the same shade as an aster.

“Oh thanks. It’s just an old thing, I guess…”

Miguel’s eyes have been nothing but locked on the way the fabric exposed your clavicles or the slope of your neck; especially with your hair tied up tonight. That color reminded him of a flower but he was not sure which one exactly. You reminded him of some flower. As embarrassing and corny as it may sound. He thought he was way past this at his age but it seemed like he was wrong. The mohair wool had caught his eyes ever since he came in the kitchen and he couldn’t stop wondering just how soft it acutally felt, how easily his fingers would slide through it…

He promised himself he would not look at you like that. He can’t do this. You trust him. Your father trusts him. He knew better than this and he didn't want to be that type of man who pried on younger, inexperienced and fragile women. He swallowed back the rest of his compliment, which turned into a lump in his throat and he looked away; just when your father called for you.

The three of you were sitting around the diner table, chatting lightly, joking from time to time. It’s been quite a long time since you shared a real meal with anyone. Since you began living alone, you were usually relying on take-outs and would eat in your bed in front of a show, enjoying the calm of your apartment after a long day at work. Your apartment… You had left a double of the keys to Sarah like most people would do so their plants would be watered and all these kinds of things. But there were no plants to water at your place, no animal to take care of… Sometimes this place didn’t feel like yours. But you had to move quickly after and that was the fest thing you had found. It was not objectively bad but...it was not your home.

The conversation had slowly shifted toward the topic of your school years when Miguel told your father about the restoration work that would begin soon. You still remembered vividly the walls of red bricks with the wine climbing on them, the windows decorated with the drawings of the students, the ugly yellows wallpaper… Maybe it was not a bad thing that this place was going to be renovated. It will be safer at least.

“It will be for the best.”, your father declared before taking a sip of his coffee. “Those buildings were already there when I was a student after all.”

“So they must be really old.”, Miguel joked and your father laughed heartily.

“Are you implying that I’m some type of dinosaurs or something?”, he asked with a grin and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling too. It was nice to see him laughing around. Miguel’s presence only did good things to him.

“I would never.” You looked at Miguel’s expression and he had the exact same grin on his face. But when he was the one smiling, your eyes would linger a bit longer on his face, on the curve of his smile… He caught you looking at him and you were suddenly very invested in the appearance of your cup of tea. Your father didn’t notice anything and kept joking:

“Well, you’re not getting younger either, my friend.” He added with a knowing smile in your direction. “Poor Y/N, you’re stuck here with those two old men…”

“You’re not that old.” You protested weakly and you were not sure who you were trying to convince of that and if you were only speaking about your father. Your father sighed and his smile looked a bit more contrite.

“Well, I’m not getting younger for sure…” He looked at the cast on his leg with a look you've been catching more frequently on his face recently. He was in pain. Not physical pain. But he had to come in terms with his mortality, with the fact that he was growing older...exactly the same way than when your mother died. “I just think you would maybe enjoy more the company of people of your age.”

You were not sure of where this is coming, so you slowly took a sip from your cup, waiting for him to finish talking. Miguel was also waiting.

“Why wouldn’t you try to link up with some of your old friends? You know, most of them didn’t move away.”

Miguel suddenly looked more intrigued and interested by the conversation. It was true that so far, you haven’t mentioned any of your past acquaintances. You couldn’t be this antisocial truly. With a shrug of your shoulders, you replied as casually as you could:

“Well, they must all be busy.”

“I’m sure they would be glad to see you too.” His soft tone didn’t fool you. You know how stubborn he could be when he had an idea in mind. So you asked: “What did you do?” His satisfied smile proved you that your assumptions were right.

“I called one of your best friends and asked her to come visit over. And she gladly accepted.”

“Who did you call?” Miguel watched your exchange like one would watch a tennis game, his head swinging from left to right.

“Actually I called a few people.” Your father said with a bright smile and that was when it hits you. He genuinely thought he did something good. As much as you appreciated his effort, you couldn’t help but groan, slightly annoyed. What were you supposed to say to your old friends? Would you even be able to talk with them or link up the way you used to? Would they even recognize you?

***

The next day the living room was filled with laughter and the faint sound of chit-chat. Sitting on the edge of the couch, you quietly observed your friends from high school. The atmosphere in the room reminded you of the time you would all have slumber parties in high school. Except that it was only 4 in the afternoon and that you had traded your snacks and corny movies for homemade cookies and old album photos.

The three women facing you looked nothing like the pictures you were watching and at the same time they couldn’t be more themselves than they were now. On your right Jane was no longer wearing the thick glasses she used to have when she was younger, having them replaced by lenses but the movements of her fingers reminded you of how she would always adjust the frame of her spectacles back then. She had already apologized three times for being late but who would blame a business woman like her to have more important meeting in her day? Assya’s cooking skills were still unmatched and you thanked the Lord for her cookies, delicately wrapped into a pink paper. Her calloused hands from all her work were still looking rough but your eyes could’t miss the wedding band on her finger. A bright diamond on top of a silver ring. And there was Margareth, Mag as she’d rather have you calling her, whose athletic silhouette was now draped under a delicate green tailor suit. Even under the large jacket, she couldn’t hide the impressive bump of her stomach.

And there was you who was giving “I peaked in high school” energy compared to them. But none of them seemed to address this or even wanted to make you feel uncomfortable. They seemed to respect your silence and they ware graceful enough to not comment on your tired face or rub too hard their happiness on the said tired face. None of them mentioned your mother as they keep flipping the pages of the album. Assya even slided a new box of cookies toward you when you were finished with the first one. So...it was a bit better than what you were expected.

Jane pointed at one of the pictures and started telling a story about this day. Her memory was quite impressive to you. You barely remembered that day. The four of you were looking at the camera with a bright smile. You were all sitting in your bedroom, during one of these infamous slumber parties. The more you looked at the picture, the more you realized that your friends were not the one who changed. You did.

The four of you were still down the memory train when the front door opened. It can’t be your father. As soon as your friends came in, he disappeared into the patio, saying that he wanted to give you as much space as possible. It could only be Miguel. It was a nice surprise for him to be here this early. There was something comforting into knowing that he’ll be back after almost every day...

You turned toward the door, a bit too enthusiastically, and watched him making his way toward the living room. He was the one in charge of the dinner tonight and he was carrying a crate full of fresh vegetables. His forearms flexed slightly when he lifted the box and for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes away from this sight.

“Doctor O’hara, I wasn’t expecting to see you there. Is this where you’ve been hiding all these weeks?” Assya asked with an amused smile while crossing her arms over her chest. She had told you she’s been working as a nurse at the clinic but it was only now that you realized what it meant. She knew Miguel. For some reason the small grin she gave him annoed you, wedding ring or not.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you there either. Do you guy know each other?” Miguel asked with a polite smile and all the women nodded in unison. His eyes stopped on the silhouette of Mag and he asked in a caring voice:

“How are you feeling today?”

She slowly patted her stomach and replied: “He’s been really quiet today. No nausea whatsoever.”

“Good. If you need anything, my office is always open.”

It was your first time seeing him interacting with his patients and colleagues, and again, you could’t believe that people like him actually existed. People who were so selfless, people who cared and who could genuinely talk to other beings. And for a second, you could picture him at the clinic, working, giving orders, taking care of his patients… Just how many parts of his life did you actually ignore?

Miguel was slightly amused by the sight of all four of you reuniting in the living room. Once again, it seemed that you have underestimated yourself and your social skills. Everything seemed fine. His eyes trailed over you, taking in your polished appearance. You tried to make yourself look a bit better for today and he actually realized that it was the first time he saw you wearing some make-up. It was just a bit of blush and lipstick but his eyes are drawn to the shape of your lips tinted in a deep carmine. The same color rushed to his cheeks and he looked away before saying in a firm voice:

“I’ll let you to your memories now, ladies.”

You watched him going to the kitchen, a bit disappointed. You were not sure of what just happened because it lasted only a millisecond but if you had listened to your body, you would have followed him into the next room. Instead you just sat there, quietly, while your friends started giggling. Assya was the first one to break the silence:

“I know I’m married but…”

“Please, don’t finish this sentence. I already know what you’re going to say.”, replied Jane with a growing smirk.

“Come on, you can’t blame me. He is fine.”

The two of them whispered in order to not be heard from him and you felt like you were back to your high school years when you would all tease each other about your crush. So, it looked like you haven’t been the only one noticing that he was attractive…

Mag gave you a knowing look from the other side of the couch and your eyes were drawn to the shape of her stomach. While Jane and Assya kept bickering around, you decided to shift the conversation away:

“So...when is it due?”

She must have sensed your uneasiness because she chuckled softly. You have always been awkward around children and maternity, so it was not a surprise. Again, her hand gently patted her stomach.

“In two months I think.”

“It’s a boy?”

She quietly nodded and as soon as this conversation begins, you found yourself unable to ask anymore questions. It’s not that you didn’t care but the topic of motherhood made you feel uncomfortable, even more so these last years… Hopefully she changed the conversation when sensing your discomfort.

“So...it seems that he comes here often?”

“Who?”

“Doctor O’hara.”

“Ah...yes, Miguel...well, he is here to help my father. They’re good friends and I think it’s good that they are hanging together.” It felt like you were trying to justify yourself or something. You cleared your throat and grabbed your coffee while Mag kept looking at you with a knowing smile.

“He is nice, isn’t he?”, she asked after a few seconds and you simply nodded slowly.

The rest of the afternoon went by pretty fast as the four of you got lost again in your memories. Assya was the first to leave because she had to pick up her kids at daycare and Jane and Mag followed quickly. Once they were gone, you let the silence of the house wrap around your and youfinally rested your face against the wooden panel of the door for a few seconds with your eyes closed. As much as it was nice seeing them again, you feltl drained of all your energy and you would probably need a few days to recharge your social battery.

The sounds of footsteps made you turn around and there was Miguel, looking at you from the end of the hallway, a soft smile on his lips.

“Are you alright?”

You leaned your back against the door for a few seconds as a migraine started hitting your head. He could sense that something was off and that you needed to rest despite your attempt at reassuring him. He slowly moved closer to you and only stopped when he was a few feet away. He didn’t exactly know what made him act this way but there was again this lingering need to take care of you in ways that would make him feel ashamed if he could admit it.

“I can leave you alone if you want…”

“No it’s okay.”

Your eyes trailed up and down his figure in the dim light of the corridor and your eyes locked on the apron he is wearing. The white fabric had turned yellow at some point and the blue flowers on it looked withered. On one of the pockets there was a small heart. You had embroidered yourself when you were younger, as a gift to your mother.

Miguel seemed to realize his mistake and he started to untie the apron. He didn’t mean to offense you by taking this memory of your mother out of the cabinets. He just took the first thing he had found to cover himself. He was about to apologize when your hands stopped his movements, holding his wrists firmly.

“Don’t take it off.”

Your voice was only a murmur but he clearly heard you. With a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with yours while your two bodies got a bit closer. The mere light from the window of the door looked like a halo around your hair and he has to catch his breath. The room suddenly fels like it had been completely deprived of air while he got lost in your eyes. What if he got closer? What if he held you in his arms, only for a few seconds? What if…

The questions rushed in his mind, pressing him to decide what to do. But he had the feeling that none of this is what you need at the moment, nor what he should do. The grip of his fingers on yours finally loosened and he stepped back.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” You watched him slowly walk away before leaning back against the door. Your body slowly slid down the panel and you end up sitting down the floor, a mix of boiling, raw emotions that you couldn't identify lingering inside your chest.

When you were finally back inside the living room, you noticed that Miguel had left a glass of water and some aspirin for you. You smiled at the sweet attention and immediately swallowed one pill. He also had cleaned up a bit the room and yet, all the album photos were still out. Your father was sitting down the couch, absorbed in the old pictures, so much that he hadn’t notice your presence at first. You didn’t need to look over his shoulders to know what, or rather who he was looking at. In fact you’d rather disappear from the room rather than bring the attention to this topic but he caught the sound of your footsteps as soon as you started moving

“Hey…” he gently called you out. When he turned around, you caught a glimpse of the picture he was looking and you were unfortunately right. It was a picture of you and your mom. It had been taken the first year you all went camping in family. “How was the afternoon with your friends?”

“Good. Thanks.”

He was smiling in a way that would break even a heart of stone. With a tired sigh, you dragged your body to the side of the couch and sat by his side.

Your mother was holding you in her arms on the picture. You zere both wearing matching green windbreakers, an idea from your father because he was wearing the same one on the other side of the picture. There was something so comforting about staying in her arms like that. She was not a frail woman with he square-shaped shoulders, her burly arms tanned after hours spent in the garden and she was always carrying around her a scent like the one of a fireplace. You were sure that it was how a mother’s hug was supposed to feel for a long time in your life, strong, maybe a bit rough in the beginning like a mama bear holding her cubs. It was the only kind of hugs that could chase away the monsters under your bed or in your heads once you grew up.

Your father’s fingers glided over the page and you felt a bit uncomfortable. You squirmed over your sit, not knowing what to do. Should you offer a few words of comfort? Hug him? It would be quite appropriate but you were not sure your hugs would feel as comforting as hers.

He sensed your discomfort and flips the page. A large smile slowly crept up his face and he started laughing. It was a picture of you at a dance recital, around age 8, dressed as a large daisy. You cringed at the picture. Your chubby cheeks were squished by the fabric of your corolla and you were all red and sweaty, because of course the taffetas of the dress was too hot for the month of May.

“Dad, can we please ignore that?”

“No way, you’re looking adorable. And your mother spent so many time on your costume.”

The sound of your banter had attracted Miguel and he smiled when he seed that you seemed to feel a bit better. When your dad called him in, you felt a cold sweat running down your back.

“Dad, no.”

But the catastrophe happened too fast for you to react. Miguel sat on the other side of the couch and as soon as he looked at the picture, a goofy smile curled up his lips.

“No wonder you enjoy gardening. It’s like your natural habitat after all.”, he teased you gently. Your father laughed loudly at what you would have considered a pretty lame joke if it wasn’t for the adorable smirk that he was wearing. On the next picture, you were dressed as one of the rats for the ballet Nutcracker and you thought that you might actually die of embarrassment right now.

Miguel was having a blast seeing all these pictures that your dad always commented on with a funny story. Not only did he get to see an other side of you but he also caught the blush that crept up your cheeks and that slightly annoyed pout you were doing. Ever since he met you, he had never seen you embarrassed or really flustered. This might be the most emotions you’ve shown in one time and he quickly diverted his attention from the picture to your profile. After seeing the pictures he could clearly see how well of a mix you are between your parents. You got the lanky silhouette from your father, his long and thin face with the sharp eyes and pronounced chin. And from your mother, those curly locks, your nose with the high arch and those cheekbones… The said cheekbones were turning more and more flushed, their shade according well with the one of your tinted lips.

"Stop looking", he taunted himself.

As the pages kept moving and your dad talking, you slowly relaxed and your arm was now resting on top of the head of the couch. Just like Miguel’s. You were still trying to act unbothered the first time his fingers brushed against yours, thinking it might be an accident. But when it happened again, you were not so sure anymore that it was a mistake. Your two hands were resting behind the couch and your fingers were brushing from time to time, especially when Miguel was laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. At some point his forefinger brushed against your wrist, right against the edge of your sleeve.

You quickly pulled your hand back to yourself. Not out of discomfort but because you felt confused. This was not an invitation from your part...but you wouldn’t have minded for this contact to last a bit longer either…

Miguel didnn’t dare thinking that he was disappointed. Touching an inch of your skin even for a few seconds was still worth every hour of hesitation and turmoil that would come after it. How could your skin be so soft? So tempting? All when he had seen of it so far was your hands and a bit of your neck?

Still unaware of what was happening behind his back, literally, your father turned to an other page. It was a picture of you on your last recital. You were around fifteen years old, dressed in a dainty pink tutu, glitters sprinkled all over your hair. You had spent hours cleaning them off with your mother afterwards...

“This was your last recital?”, Miguel asked but it was your father who replied.

“She had to stop after that. You know how it is? High school, college entrance exams…”

Miguel didn’t reply but he did furrow his brows and nodded with a serious look on his face. He would have liked to ask more questions about this part of your life that looked so surreal. How come this little girl with that bright smile and her face covered in glitters turned into the woman you were today? He could’t also help but wonder if you still remembered a few dance moves…

But your father had flipped the pages once again and now there was an other picture of you with a boy around your age. His skin was the same shade as yours and brown curls flowed down to his shoulders. The two of you were standing close to each other, at a respectable distance with a shy look on your face. Miguel knew too well this type of picture and when he looked back at you, he was expecting to see some reaction on your face. Maybe you would be a bit embarrassed, flustered or at least nostalgic? But to his surprise you had a blank expression on your face. He didn’t know if it’s good or not. Before he could ask anything else, your father said in an obnoxious voice:

“You were such a cute couple together, David and you. You remember that day, Y/N?”

“Mhh...not really.” You seemed pretty unaffected by the picture, which was not something that Miguel was expecting from someone who just saw such a memory.

“Oh come on...you really don’t remember? It was for your birthday. You remember that nice necklace he gave you?”

You nodded without saying anything. You knew it was useless to argue with your father over this topic. He had always loved David, almost like a son. The fact that his parents were from the same diaspora as your father only made them get closer and your father had always assumed that you would end up with David. He was a nice guy, sure. But there was a reason why you never kept seeing each other after high school and you remembered it while looking at the picture. There was no chemistry between you, even a blind could see that, whatever your dad liked to think.

Miguel’s eyes were still locked on your profile and the more you were looking at the picture, the more anxious he was getting. Why were still silent? How was he supposed to understand the way you were looking at this picture? Was this good? Bad? Did you miss that David guy? Why was he suddenly just realizing that you must have had former partners? And why did he make him want to take your hand back in his, to pull you closer to him?

Your father didn’t seem to realize that there was a slight tension because he kept digging his own grave:

“It’s been a long time since you saw each other. Did you even call him? You know, I think he would be really happy to talk to you…” and with what was supposed to be a playful nudge, he added: “And I heard that he is single.” Miguel quickly caught the pink hue on your cheeks and it made his stomach twist as if he was sick. Were you embarrassed? Or was there more to this reaction? God, he hadn’t realized until now how hard it was to read you and he wished he could ask you directly. But...he was not entitled to ask that of you. Who was he to think that?

“Dad, I’m not going to call him.”, you replied while organizing the albums on the coffee table. “We had a good time and now it’s over. What happened in the past belonged to the past.”

Miguel almost sighed out of relief but your father was quick to reply: “Maybe you should start thinking about the future...I mean, you’re almost thirty and I haven’t seen you with anyone in a few years now.”

That was a low blow.

Even if it had been said in a rather understanding voice, you couldn’t help but feel your blood boil. This was the last conversation you wanted to have with your father. Miguel felt like his presence was unwanted and he tried to make his way out of the living room as quietly as possible. He would be in the kitchen if you needed help but there was no need for him to make you feel like he was prying on this delicate moment.

***

It was not your first time having this argument with your father. In fact, you remembered the last time it happened. It was a few years ago when you decided to move with your last boyfriend. Most parents would have welcomed such a good news but your father wasn’t too happy about it. First of all, he never really liked this man. History would prove him right, but it was not for the good reasons that he disliked him.

“He is not what I imagined. He is..."

Not like us.

That cryptic sentence took all its sense when you introduced your boyfriend to your father. He didn’t fit in. Your father wanted someone who could speak his language, who could share his memories of the country they left…

“And you’re living with him without even getting married?”

“You know what the people will say!”

“I raised you better than this…”

Hearing him screaming was somehow less hurtful that his resigned voice. He could sound so disappointed sometimes that you almost wondered why you even kept trying.

But at least at the time, you had your mother by your side. She always knew how to calm him down. She was like this bridge between the two of you and somehow she was the only one who would manage to help you find a compromise.

At least when she was alive.

***

You couldn’t run to your mother after an argument anymore and you’d rather stay alone than talk with anyone else. At least, that’s what you used to think. Now that you were back in this house, you might as well go and see her.

The next day, you grabbed your windbreaker and headed out of the house before your father had waken up. You had spent the last evening, alone in your room. It’s been so long since the two of you fought; you had forgotten how bad it could hurt sometimes. The thought that Miguel could have heard your argument made you feel so embarrassed. What was he thinking now?

The air around you was crisp and you could feel the scent of the pines and the muddy ground this early in the morning. It was a perfect day for what you were about to do… The gates of the cemetery had barely opened when you walked inside. It was a few days before Halloween and a few people would come and clean the graves soon, change the flowers… Seeing all the decorated graves made you regret not bringing anything. And given your father’s state, no one probably brought anything to your mother’s grave.

She was right where you remembered her. The plaque with her name stood at the foot of a small hill. A vase with withered flowers, a decoration with a dove...exactly how you remembered it to be. You carefully sat in front of it and watched the black marble. A few remaining raindrops from the night slid down the material, on top of her name engraved on it.

“Beloved mother and wife.”

Finally, some peace and some silence.

You didn’t know how long exactly you stayed there, sometimes contemplating the grey sky, sometimes the delicate intricacy of the letters of her name. Next time you would bring some flowers you promised as much as her than to yourself. At some point while looking at the build-up of stormy clouds in the sky, you noticed a large silhouette, all too familiar, moving down the hill.

What was he doing here?

You tried to get up despite your numb legs and the silhouette seemed to walk faster in your direction, his long coat flowing behind him. It was only when the first raindrops fell down that he managed to join you.

Miguel didn’t even dare asking you anything, if you were feeling alright, who you came to visit… the answer to each question was obvious. Instead, he simply offered you shelter under his umbrella and a tissue for your wet eyes.

“Do you want to stay a bit longer here?”, he finally asked after a few seconds. You shook your head and the two of you made your way out of the graveyard. His arm was holding yours, guiding you gently toward the exit, his sturdy shoulder brushing against yours from time to time.

When you reached his car, Miguel opened the door for you and then sat in front of the stirring wheel. But he didn’t feel like taking you back home now. And neither did you.

The rain was hitting the roof of the car in a loud, discorded melody. You could barely see the world outside through that much rain. A slight fog had covered the windows with the warmth of the heater, and yet your shoulders don’t stop shivering.

Miguel’s comforting hand gently squeezed your shoulder as he tried to make you look this way, a vain attempt to anchor you in the moment.

“Hey…”

He was slowly getting a bit more worried that you’re not responding but he doesn’t dare insisting. His hand stopped at a few inches from your face before he slowly leaned back into his seat. The silence inside the car was only troubled by your heavy breaths as you tried to compose yourself. After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold it anymore and asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”

You were not sure if he was talking about the argument with your father or your visit to the cemetery but you still shook your head. He felt a bit relieved when he heard your voice, even if it was barely a whisper:

“I’m fine, Miguel.”

An other heavy silence filled up the space inside the car and quite surprisingly you were the one breaking it this time, again.

“Why were you here?”

His eyes seemed suddenly very focused on the stirring wheel and he absented-mindly started rubbing his pointer finger with his thumb while looking for his words.

“I needed to visit someone.”

===============================================

Notes: This was a pretty messy chapter, so I want to thank anyone who took the time to read this.

I'm currently working on the seventh chapter and just so you know, I'm very impatient to write it.

Taglist: @safixiovi @laysmt @reverieblondie

My Masterlist!

< part 5 / part 7 >

[marzmeltdown]

Bad Decisions

⌦ Pairing: Prof!Changkyun (I.M) x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): Smut ⌦ Warning(s): swearing,, age gaps (changkyun's in his 30's readers in their 20's),, power dynamics,, exhibitionism (kinda),, nicknames (changkyun: sir,, professor,, reader: doll,, princess,, idk if slut constitutes itself as a nickname but its used,, ),, cream pies(pls be practice safe sex besties),, deep throating,, face fucking,, desk sex,, choking,, oral (m receiving),, Dacryphilia,, dirty talk,, spit eating (idk if thats what its called),, fingering,, humiliation,, ⌦ Word count: 2.66k ⌦ Summary: You're struggling in your history class, so naturally, you go to your professor for help. You weren't expecting to receive that type of help as well. ⌦ A/N: Listening to Hollywood Undead and Monsta X while writing this was an experience to say the least. I may or may not have written this for myself as well. Have y'all seen that tiktok of Changkyun pulling out of a parking spot w one hand? Twas truly beautiful. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on everything I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:)

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

You cried as you looked at the exam grade displayed on your computer screen. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. D+, you had studied so hard; how could you have gotten such a bad grade? You sat at your desk with your knees to your chest, crying into them.

Your head flew up as you heard the door to your dorm room swing open, followed by your roommate's keys jingling as she walked in. She sat her bag on the floor beside her bed, oblivious to your crying until she took her headphones out of her ears.

"Oh my god, y/n, are you okay? What happened??" She asked, tossing her headphones onto her bed as she rushed over to you. You sniffled a bit, turning the laptop towards her with one hand while the other wiped away the tears that had taken residence on the tip of your chin.

"I got a D on my history exam," you said. It took everything in you not to scream with how upset you were; history was the only class you were struggling in. Which didn't make any sense to you, as you really liked history.

"What the hell? You studied so hard! You study more than I do!" Your roommate gasped, her brows furrowed in confusion and irritation as she too tried to wrap her head around how you could have done so poorly on an exam you worked so hard to prepare for. You sniffled once more, turning the laptop back to you and beginning to write your professor an email asking if he were free tomorrow during his office hours.

"I'm going to go talk to him tomorrow and see if there's anything I can do to get my grade up," you said, your voice slowly going back to normal rather than the shakey, upset voice you had when your roommate walked in on your crying session.

"That's a good idea. Mr. Im is a nice professor; I'm sure he would be more than willing to help you out." Your roommate said she hugged your side reassuringly before walking back to her side of the room.

Mr. Im replied to your email sooner than you had expected; he has always told students that as soon as 5 p.m. rolled around, any emails he had would be answered the following business day.

⌦ Mr Im:

ㅤY/N,

ㅤThank you for reaching out regarding your performance in class, my office hours are open all ㅤday.

ㅤThank you, Mr. Im.

You smiled as you read the email, looking back at your roommate, who had gotten comfortable on her bed. "He's free all day tomorrow; hopefully we can get something figured out."

"That's great; I'm sure he will work with you about your grade," she reassured once more.

You sighed shakily as you stood outside your professor's office. Rarely did you ask for help, so knowing that you were about to knock on Mr. Im's door to do exactly that made you nervous. After a couple deep breaths, you knocked on the door. You were worried that you'd knocked too softly until the door swung open, revealing your professor.

"Y/N, come in; it's good to see you." Mr. Im smiled, and you stood there in awe for a moment as you soaked in his smile. He was ethereal, and you felt as though you could stare at him all day if you could.

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Im," you stuttered, stepping into the room. It was neater than you had expected; every book on the shelf was in order from biggest to smallest, and the couch that sat against the wall looked untouched. His desk looked unused aside from the stack of papers on the left corner and a water bottle that sat next to his computer; the floor was spotless as well.

"What was it you wanted to talk about, y/n?" Changkyun asked, following you to his desk once he shut the door. You both took seats in the chairs opposite each other.

"I wanted to talk about my grade; it's not great," you said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

"I'm well aware that your grade isn't anything to brag about," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

"Right.." You said that, blushing a bit as you looked down.

"I suppose you're hoping I can help you fix that?" He asked, and his tone came off more condescending than he had meant it.

"Yeah, if you'd be so kind,"

"Well, if you paid better attention in my class, you might do better," he suggested. Your head snapped up at him as you looked at him with widened eyes. He smirked softly, beginning to speak as he stood up from his chair. "Don't act so surprised, y/n; I see how you stare at me during class; it's pretty obvious." He said, you hadn't noticed that he was standing right next to you until he gently took hold of your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"It makes me wonder what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," he said, running his thumb against your bottom lip as he spoke. His voice had gotten deeper—sexier even, if that were possible. Instinctively, you parted your lips as you kept your eyes trained on him. "You and I both know that you're capable of studying for my exams, so I'll cut you a deal; I'll fix your grade if you do something for me."

Your professor seemed more talkative than normal, but you assumed anyone would be if they were discussing "deals" with another person. It was your turn to speak now. Before you could, however, his thumb found itself inside your mouth, pressing itself down on your tongue. Changkyun stood still as he waited for an answer, looking down at you with lidded eyes. You nodded in response to his offer.

Changkyun only smiled at this as his free hand worked at his belt. You moved your eyes to his hand as your hands reached up to aid him in taking his belt off. He jerked your head up gently, forcing you to look back up at him. "Eyes on me, doll."

Undoing the clasp of his belt and the buttons of his pants without being able to look at them seemed to be somewhat of a struggle. But the reward behind the zipper was worth the struggle. Changkyun moved his hand from your chin to your head once you pulled his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out.

You broke eye contact with your professor long enough to glance at his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. You brought a hand to pump at the base, looking back up at him as you began pumping his cock with a steady pace. His breath hitched slightly when you let your tongue run against the pink tip of his cock.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, princess," he breathed out as you took the head of his cock into your mouth. He gripped your hair roughly, forcing himself the rest of the way into your mouth. You did your best not to gag, though your efforts proved futile when the tip of his cock brushed against your throat.

The sound of your gag seemed to spark something within him as his hips began thrusting themselves into you and shoving his cock further down your throat. Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes from how harshly he was thrusting into you. The lewd sounds of your gags mixed with his groans of pleasure and the saliva being churned in your mouth filled the room. You were surprised no one had heard you two yet.

Just when you were certain your professor was only going to abuse your throat, he pulled out of you, pulling you to stand. Immediately, you leaned in to kiss him, the both of you hungrily attacking each other's mouths. Your hands found their way to Changkyun's collar, tugging him closer as you sat on his desk. Your fingers worked to undo the buttons on his shirt while his worked at the buttons on your pants. You mentally cursed at yourself for not taking your roommate's advice on the skirt she suggested you wear.

You pushed Changkyun's shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, before aiding him in taking your pants off. His hand found itself resting against your heat as his thumb rubbed itself against your clothed clit. You whimpered at his soft teasing, bucking your hips against his hand.

"Patience, princess, I'll fill you up soon," he said against your lips, his fingers still teasing you through your panties.

"Yes, sir," you replied, whining when he pulled your panties aside to continue teasing your hole. "Just take them off," you begged, moving a hand down to push your panties off.

Changkyun chuckled at your impatience but obliged, pulling your panties off the rest of the way, his hand finding itself attached to your heat once more. "You're so wet already, doll," he commented, emphasizing his words by slipping his middle finger into your hole. A soft moan escaped your lips, and you pulled away from the kiss to let your head fall back.

You let your eyes close as your professor began to pump his finger in and out of your hole. You pulled your shirt off as Changkyun inserted another finger, the surprise causing you to drop your shirt onto his desk, letting yourself lean against your hand as his thumb rubbed itself against your clit once more.

"F-fuck, professor, please," you begged as your head fell back. His fingers felt like magic against the nerves between your thighs.

"Please what, princess? Use your words," he said, his free hand reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. You were surprised at how well your professor did tasks with one hand that would have required a normal person to use two.

"Fuck me, please," you whined, your free hand gripping at his toned biceps. He smirked at your request, pulling his fingers out of you and leaving your hole empty momentarily as he reached into his wallet to grab a condom. Your head snapped up to look at him, and your hand flew up to stop him, looking at him pleadingly.

He looked at you with a confused expression, his confusion disappearing once you opened your mouth to say, "I know you want to fuck your cum into me just as much as I want you to."

You weren't sure where this new bout of confidence came from, but the look on your professor's face when you spoke went straight to your core. You could feel the slick beginning to run down your thighs as you bit your lip. He tossed the partially opened condom onto the floor along with his wallet before pulling you closer by your thighs.

"If you keep talking like that, kitten, I might have to take you home with me," he said as he took his cock in one hand, his other pushing your thigh up even more, causing you to lie on your back. You whimpered as Changkyun rubbed his cock against your folds, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, princess?" Changkyun began as he slowly thrust himself into you. It took all the strength you had not to let your head fall back so you could watch as your professor's cock disappeared into your hole before reappearing again once you'd had time to adjust to his size.

You bit your lip as Changkyun began speaking again, painting a more detailed picture in your head of what he was talking about. "You'd like it if I took you home and fucked you like the little slut you are," he said, letting his hand rest against your throat, squeezing just enough to feel good but not enough to cause any serious harm.

You nodded in response, letting your body fall back against the desk so you could use your hands to hold your thighs open. "Yes, sir, I'd like that very much." You whined.

Changkyun wasted no time as he snapped his hips into you at a rapid pace, leaning his body against yours so you were eye to eye. The way his body pinned you in place prevented you from arching your back while simultaneously forcing your legs to rest themselves against his shoulders, allowing him to pound deeper into your walls.

You couldn't help the loud moans that came out of your mouth as his tip brutally hit your sweet spot. His hand moved from your throat to slip his fingers into your mouth, muffling any noises that escaped your lips.

"Be quiet, princess; you don't want anyone to catch us now, do you?" He asked, and his question, along with the taste of your slick still on his fingers, caused a whimper to fall from your lips. You shook your head, and the sight of you tasting yourself on Changkyun's fingers caused his dick to twitch inside you.

Only when he thought you were capable of controlling your sounds did he remove his fingers from your mouth, this time gripping at your jaw just as he had done earlier.

"I bet you let all your professors slut you out like this, don't you?" He taunted, angling his hips so every thrust would push the head of his cock against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars each time it was hit. His hand keeping a firm grasp on your chin prevented you from shaking your head in protest; he took this opportunity to spit into your mouth to further humiliate you.

His words and the act of him spitting into your mouth went right to your core, and your walls began to contract around his cock.

"N-No sir! J-Just you—fuck, I'm so close," you moaned, digging your heels into his shoulder blades in attempts to pull him closer. You reached back to grip the edge of the desk, effectively pushing the ungraded papers onto the floor.

"Go ahead, princess, cum on my cock," he panted, feeling the knot in his stomach begin to tighten as well. He propped himself up on his hands to give himself more leverage, his thrusts going deeper and harder than they had been previously.

It took a few more harsh thrusts on his end before the coil in your stomach snapped and you were sent over the edge. Your hand clamped itself over your mouth to muffle the wanton moan that escaped your throat as you felt your hole flutter against his cock and your arousal slowly ran down Changkyun's cock. You were positive he would have a stain there afterwards.

The tight grip your walls used to hold Changkyun in was enough for him to fall over the edge, a soft whimper escaping his mouth as he finished. He thrust his cum back into you a few times as he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts coming to a full stop, and he caught his breath before pulling out. He watched as his cum dripped out of your hole and down the side of his desk.

"Here," Changkyun said, handing you a water bottle as he helped you sit up. You weren't sure when he'd walked away, but he had already cleaned himself and adjusted his pants. You winced as you sat up, taking the water bottle from him.

"Thank you," you said as you opened the bottle, taking a sip. You watched as Changkyun gently wiped you clean with a few tissues he had taken from the box that surprisingly didn't fall.

He tossed the soiled tissues into the trash can beside his desk before he leaned in to whisper into your ear.

"I expect you to pick those papers up, and I was serious about taking you back to my place."

[elbiotipo]

Like in most starships, and indeed like in any kind of ships through history, the mess hall was the heart of the Johann Sebastian Mastropiero. Of course, most of the rest of the ship was propellant tanks, engines, and cargo bays. But what truly mattered was this place, this sacred place with food and drink where the crew could relax after a long day sailing the aether. They were the ones who kept this old bird flying, they were the lifeblood of the Mastropiero, and the mess hall was its heart. At least according to the crew themselves. The cargo's insurance was probably higher than theirs after all.

“Mess hall” might also have been a grandiose name for it. It was basically a table, some especially uncomfortable chairs bolted to it so they didn't flew away in 0g, several handles to walk through while in freefall, an old booth that seemed -and probably was- taken from an abandoned fuel space station, an old fridge/hydroponics combo, some kitchen essentials like an electric kettle and oven, and a counter bearing the scars of poorly prepared food, because you get tired of instant guiso and mushroom chips after a while.

It was Human spacer tradition for the Captain to have a last dinner with the passengers before landing at the destination, so never mind the mess, in a way, the mess hall also needed to show the ship's history. And it did, with the pictures hanging on the paneling. A faded photograph of the crew during the Machine War, and then newer ones, an old captain giving a thumbs up at a newly repainted ship, a group of people wearing smokings doing a comedy sketch, Beto as a kid sitting on the commands with the hat on, an asado under three moons that legend has it bring good luck, and more. The latest picture was just next to the oldest one, with a lanky, angular-faced human male with a mate gourd on hand, a small shark-like girl wearing sunglasses and doing a peace sign, and a cactus-like man with his leaves in a sarcastic attitude, under that same sky as the three lucky moons.

Freefalling, and yet somehow looking busy while at it, Beto arrived at the mess hall to heat up water for the mate and start up his morning shift. As he rubbed his eyes he saw Ragua hanging by her squalene tail on a handle in the "ceiling", her headphones at a high enough volume to tell she was listening to Hermética. Siusini was sitting conspicuously in the center of the booth table -not that he needed to eat anyways-, while holding a bunch of crystals around him that reflected on his leaves in beams of focused light, like glittering rainbows. Beto wondered if Pink Floyd would perhaps be a better soundtrack in this case.

"Mornin', people." Beto yawned as he turned on the kettle, his weightless body hanging as he waited for the water to heat up -not boil, this was mate after all.

"MORNIN', BETO!" Ragua said from the ceiling, her voice more high-pitched than usual, perhaps because of her usual excitement, perhaps because of the metal screaming that seemed to envelop her. Siusini's chromoplasts shifted into a greeting hue.

"What are you listening to, Ragua?" Beto asked as the water began to heat.

"It's that music you told me about last night!" She answered, perhaps a bit offended that Beto didn't notice. "I love it, though some lyrics are hard to understand..." She noted. Beto nodded thoughtfully. He was amazed at how quickly she had picked up Rioplatense Spanish in any case.

"Yeah, I told you, they talk a bit about the things that happen in my history tapes..."

"Of course you like them because of that." She grinned while narrowing her eyes playfully. For various reasons, perhaps because she was part of it, history just didn't sit well with her. "But that's the fun part. The voices go... like all low and deep like yours..." Ragua did a frighteningly good rendition of Ricardo Iorio, "...and then it goes all like YEEEEEEAHHHH." Ragua did an even more frightening impression of Claudio O'Connor. Beto just smiled, amused.

"I don't sing like that."

"You don't sing. At all." Ragua teased back.

"Shut up." Beto said. It was true, he couldn't sing at all.

"But what I like the most is the controls." Ragua continued as the album rocked on, her fins shifting to the music.

"You mean instruments?" Beto corrected her word use, helpfully.

"Yeah! Those! It's just so AWESOME... Like, I love the sound, the noise, it feels like when prey moves on the ocean, when you're about to just bite on it? You know? So nice." She said, a bit too giddy, kicking her finned legs against the ceiling.

"That's cool man." Beto answered in a monotone as he poured water on the thermos. 

Perhaps not wanting to awaken her predatory instincts, he turned to Siusini.

"What about you, you finally gave up engineering to become a table decoration?" Beto bantered in friendly confidence. Siusini didn't seem to listen through his sound translator. His leaf patterns shifted in ways that were difficult even for the experienced Beto to decipher.

"Sius'?" He asked again. The chromoplasts reacted.

"GOOD DAY BETO." The patterns of colors said. Beto knew how to read them, and he'd better, since Siusini was his engineer after all. Not a good relationship for miscommunications.

"Testing out the crystals you bought the other time?" Beto said while pouring himself a mate.

"RIGHT."

"Are they, uh, good?" Beto asked, not sure how to put it.

"VERY GOOD." the leaves answered, as Siusini shifted the crystals to what Beto assumed was a more pleasant light show for him.

Beto sipped his second -always the best one, after the yerba is settled- mate of the morning and watched the crystals dance in Siusini's tendrils. Being a heterotroph himself, Beto didn't quite get what was so interesting about the focusing crystals that many photosynthetic species enjoyed, but visually, they were very striking.

"You know." Beto said with his usual curiosity, "You never quite told me what does that light show feels, exactly." Siusini's color shifted to one of amusement, and Beto sighed, wondering what he was gonna say.

"EXPLAINING IS DIFFICULT. WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS." the leaves said.

"Oh come on. You can explain how a dark-energy inductor works, but not that?" Beto bantered back, knowing he won the argument.

"WILL TRY THEN." Siusini said, his color still in an ironic hue.

The communication leaves of Siusini shifted a bit in some patterns Beto didn't recognize. "IT IS LIKE. GOOD FOOD. VERY GOOD FOOD. NARCOTICS[?]. [?]."

Beto blinked a couple times, trying to understand. The last two patterns looked familiar, but... Then he noticed Siusini's leaves and tendrils shifting in a rather strange way... and he groaned.

"You dirty motherflower, I shouldn't have asked..." Beto groaned again in the tone of someone defeated while Siusini's leaves shone brighter in their amused state. He just grabbed his thermos and mate and decided to go to the cockpit.

Ragua, always up for some good gossip but who wasn't keeping up with the conversation because of her headphones, followed Beto with a teasing smile. "Wait, wait, what did Sius’ say?" she asked.

"Never mind, you don't wanna know." Beto said as he made his way to the cockpit.

"Come on, tell me, what was it?!"

"Ragua, no."

"COME ON, TELL ME!" Ragua insisted as she hovered on 0g after him, grabbing his leg while he grumbled. "BETITO, COME ON, TELL ME, WAS IT FUNNY? I KNOW IT WAS FUNNY!" She was not gonna let it go and he knew it. But never mind, first it was time to do trajectory corrections and get to work.

And so, another day started in the good spaceship Mastropiero, 614 years after Gagarin.

[klonnieshippersclub]

Okay, so this might be dumb asf, but to me the Hayley/Klaus baby makes no sense. To me the whole witch/werewolf thing is like your race or ethnicity it all comes down to percentage. If Hayley is 100% a werewolf and Klaus is 50% then Hope would come out 75% wolf and the other 25% would be broken up between being a human and a witch. I know it’s a big jump and it’s just a show but it has always bugged me lol like how is she a tribrid??? It just all seems like a poorly written Wattpad story lol, but if Bonnie was Hopes mother then that would have made more sense!!! I really look into things🤣

The lore of TVDU is truly lacking. There's no real in-depth explanation on witch families. If Klaus doesn't have the magic gene, how would he be able to pass that on to Hope? The whole "first born" thing doesn't make any sense. In no other instance in TVD does birth order establish power. For werewolf families, anyone born into one inherits the gene. This is not true for witches. It would make more sense for Kol or Freya's child to carry magic. Even then, it isn't guaranteed they'll have any power. Why do some witch bloodlines just stop having magic? We aren't given any explanation. They lazily throw in a storyline about Katherine being a Traveller witch but her bloodline has no power (Elena is magicless and Katherine having magic makes no sense). Instead of creating real rules for witchcraft and witch bloodlines, they put things together with no thought. It's aggravating how inconsistent it is and that they forced Petrovas into witchcraft, because they didn't want to focus on the history of the only active witch family in town. Bonnie lost her magic and suddenly white witches were everywhere.

Please if you haven’t check out my meta on Bonnie, the Bennett’s, Black witches and the Magical Negro Trope and Mammy trope! This is a warning for anyone who likes Hayley or Hope that will be offended by this. Do not continue to read here:

Again, I’m discouraged though I have no problem with discussing Klayley /Hayley or canon Hope. Due to the responses fans will give when it comes to speaking on Bonnie and her Bloodline. Bonnie is the only character to get repetitive moral policing from the writers to the fans. Yet do not hold the women (who happen to be white) in the same regard. Freya, Dahlia and the retconning about Esther exists to uplift Hope’s witch heritage. Then the series went a step further to give Hayley a witch ancestor who to me conceptual wise seems like Silas + Qetsiyah & Cade all in one. It doesn’t seem like that gene should’ve been that strong anyway.

TVD doesn’t value Bonnie the way the others are treated. Hayley had sex immediately upon her introduction. Hayley goes through relationships. Her friends care about her. If Hayley wants to snap off and fight she gets that right. Bonnie isn’t allowed to do half of those things. We’re told Hayley(and her bloodline) are someone/people to be cared about. Hayley is a werewolf Queen! The series does not do the same for Bonnie. She isn’t praised for being a Bennett witch, she doesn’t have equal desirability and isn’t prioritized. It isn’t until season 8 we get Bonnie saying she wants the life Caroline lived (home, kids, family and a partner..)

Hayley’s plots were centered around her motherhood and being a werewolf. None of that translated to Hope. Klaus wasn’t given any werewolf plots. So why center Hope’s life on being a witch? Hayley admits she didn’t understand Hope’s power. Hope’s tribrid era to explore her vampire side was short lived. Bonnie and Hayley have both faced abandonment and family struggles but Bonnie’s isn’t talked about enough like Hayley’s. If Hope did have a Bonnie as a mother there plenty to witch-connections to make from there through Bonnie’s history. It’s a big fuck you to Bonnie to me to include child witches and never allow those connections to blossom.

Fans would’ve hated it if Klonnie were a couple or a fling in canon. Many pretend that Bonnie’s blackness isn’t the issue when it comes to Bonnie possibilities when it often is. It is okay if Bonnie is friends with or helps terrible people in canon. Lines are suddenly drawn when you mention things in a romantic sense or more. The rules NEVER apply to their faves. Bonnie is the pentacle of humanity and no should be paired with her yet their faves can do whatever and still be a “good girl” while dating a man who is capable of mass murders.

[callmekasandra]

A new myth. A myth is not meant to be accurate history, but to tell a story that conveys a deeper spiritual truth. Stories are powerful.

This myth is the over-arcing story of Genesis to Jesus.

Note: I'm not trying to save you or anything.

I certainly don't want to ruin a perfectly good Atheist or Hindu or whatever. I write this for the fundamentalist Christians like myself.

My myth is the story of Genesis to Jesus. We get bits and pieces in church and Sunday school. Here's the whole thing in one hour. Really helps us to see more of the meaning in Christ's life, death, and resurrection.

(There's a 14 minute tl;dr explainer/addendum further down.)

I don't think God is waiting for us somewhere else. God is always with us, walking with you and me and every other person through time and never turns away. But home is where the heart is. And God wants us to come home to the heart of God where there is Love, kindness, justice, generosity, Creation, the poor, the oppressed, etc. The things God loves and cares about.

I don't even really want you to believe the truths within the story. I just want you to consider the possibility and see if it resonates for you with history, our experiences, scripture, and who we know God to be as revealed in Jesus. You need to wrestle with this angel and make it make sense to you. Especially if you can't understand. The less you understand the more I beg you to listen again and sit with it.

I really don't want to convince you of anything. If you have the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and understanding, you'll probably be able to recognize the messages in here.

Rather than looking to confirm or reject the ideas you are expecting to find, please just consider. These are brand new ideas (for you anyway) using old pictures and familiar stories. But they are not the same ideas or messages. I'm telling a different story.

A 14 minute explainer of the primary take-away from all of this, along with addressing some mistakes/poorly communicated concepts.

Dear Reader,

If you are on the inside and reading this, just know I don't think you are foolish or silly or stupid. I don't think you are evil or hateful. I think you are very good and probably thoughtful and intelligent to boot. You are just fucked up like the rest of us and you were unlucky enough to be born into it or got tangled up inside. Happens to the best of us.

I think the story told in the longer video can help you see better where I'm coming from and that story can help you free yourself if you want to. If you don't want to free yourself, you can still watch it and entertain yourself by pointing out all the flaws and sending me a bulleted list😘.

Yours truly,

Kasandra

PS- You might hear a bit of anger or derision especially in the first few minutes. I'm not angry or derisive towards you or Christians in general or Jews at all. Any anger or derision towards people/powers is towards those much, much higher up the food chain than you or anyone you know (probably).

As I tell the story, I am using lots of voice inflections to tell the story and that include sometimes a sing-song or sarcastic tone. The tone of the story is never to make fun of the reader or Christians. It's never to say that I'm smarter than anybody or put people down or anything like that.

The purpose of the incredulous voice inflections is occasionally to draw your attention to a joke, but usually it is to highlight the absurdity of the story we were given. The absurdity of the theology we were given. And the absurdity of the judgmental, autocratic, 1-strike picture of God we were given.

See how it is different.

Consider what's different about this story & consider a few of these as you go:

-what is different from the original stories we were given (as you know them)

-what is different about the meaning

-is it more or less likely to be true than your present understanding of things, given all we know?

-Does it resonate with who we know God, humanity, creation, & the World to be?

-Does it seem truer in meaningful ways?

-Does it somehow misrepresent God or Truth?

-Does it encourage more things of God? (or of the World?)

-What do you think of the Paul and Philemon bit?

[yepthatsacowalright]

In a platonic and intellectual way I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now. The Danels (Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert, creators of Everything Everywhere All At Once) just did a talk at SXSW. It's called 'How We Pulled Off Everything Everywhere All at Once.' Except as soon as they got on stage, they announced that they've already given that talk several times elsewhere, showed QR codes to watch those on YouTube if you're interested, and then pivoted to talking about so much real shit about humanity, inequity, climate change, the past, the future, now, storytelling, art, paradoxes, self-care, religion, addiction, AI, etc. instead that I still feel my brain vibrating about it. Some highlights (that I probably transcribed poorly but tried my best): "The earliest cultures, a lot of them, all around the world, believed in animism. And for those who don't know, [animism] is this belief, this story that they told themselves, that every living creature, rock, tree, river, had a soul, had a life. And a lot of modern people...kinda laugh at that, and think it's a little silly. But regardless of what you believe, that story was actually really beautiful, because it kept things in balance, right? There was this really beautiful relationship with the world around them. When we invented agriculture, we couldn't just force an oxen to drag a plow, because that oxen had a soul. And so we changed the story of the oxen and said, 'Oh, actually we're not all beautiful, soulful things. We're gonna lower the value of this one thing.' And you see this happening slowly throughout history, every new achievement. We've done it to the trees. The trees are incredible, beautiful things that provide food, water, shelter, cooling the Earth, giving us the oxygen we breathe, and we've reduced their story to $70 of lumber at Home Depot. And, like I said, some of this is necessary. Even the oldest cultures who believed in animism would kill, would chop down trees, but there was a narrative where there was grieving, and there was respect, and there was gratitude, and that has been lost. And we have slowly created an entire world where everything is disposable. Our shoes, our cars, our phones...we're all culpable, we're all responsible for this. But the worst part is we've done it to the people. And these devaluing stories, they become normalized and compounded through generational amnesia. And we slowly move the threshold of who is valuable and who isn't.

For instance, modern capitalism and the capitalist workforce only works if we are able to compel people to work, because we can't force them to work. And so we had to change the story we told ourselves, and say that your value is your job. You are only worth what you can do. And we are no longer beings with an inherent worth.

And this is why it is so hard to find fulfillment in this current system. The system works best when you're not fulfilled.

Which brings me back to AI.

There's gonna be a lot of people who are saying how amazing AI is, and it is. It's magic. It's probably going to solve cancers, probably gonna give us a lot of climate solutions. This is a powerful thing. But I'm really terrified of this new story we're gonna have to tell ourself in order to accept this new convenience, this new progress. ...to imagine what [AI] will do within this current system, within this current incentive structure...this is the same system that brought us climate change, income inequality, and the general lack of gratitude and understanding of our worth and the worth of those around us. And so one of the things I'm realizing we all have to be doing...is we have to really rewrite the system story, and center what is truly valuable." "We are addicted to a system. We know how to solve our problems, we understand what a lot of the solutions are, we just don't know how to actually have the will to do it. And so if you look at us, collectively, we are on step one. We are finally, after decades, admitting that there is a problem, specifically climate change amongst other things. And now we need to be actively thinking about, okay, what kind of stories are we gonna be telling to bring us into that second step?" HIGHLY RECOMMEND watching the entire 1-hour talk. I promise it does not feel like an hour, and it is 8000% worth your time:

[roodles03]

I'm just gonna say this because I am SO done with seeing this shit.

As a trans, enby, demisexual lesbian, I am fucking sick of seeing people hate on huntlow because its "straight"

Like that is such a dumb fucking reason to hate on a perfectly healthy ship. Who cares if its queer or not? It's still a wonderful written ship. And it might not even be straight!

Like I said I'm literally queer myself and I far prefer huntlow over the two cannon queer ships. I don't prefer huntlow because its not queer, and I dont prefer lumity or raeda because they are queer. By that logic every queer person would have to prefer every queer ship in existence over a straight ship, even if the queer ship's rep is done poorly or is straight up offensive. That logic just makes no fucking sense. I've seen people call huntlow shippers queerphobic for preferring huntlow over the cannon queer ships. NEWS FLASH: MANY HUNTLOW SHIPPERS ARE QUEER THEMSELVES. (Including me!)

I prefer huntlow over Lumity and Raeda simply because I think its written the best out of the 3 and simply because Hunter and Willow are my favorite two characters in the show. I just don't care about Eda, Raine, Luz, or Amity NEARLY as much as Hunter and Willow. I'm not saying I don't like these characters or lumity or raeda, I'm just indifferent about them. I fully acknowledge just how well written and important these ships are to queer rep and queer history, and there is literally nothing wrong with them. These ships and characters just don't do it for me the same way Huntlow does. You can just not care about a ship and not have to morally justify your reasoning. I don't care about Lumity or Raeda, yet do you see me trying to aruge those ships are morally wrong? No. You don't. There is literally nothing morally wrong with them. Same thing applies to huntlow. There is literally nothing morally wrong with Huntlow, yet I constantly see people pull shit out of their ass to try and morally justify their reasoning to hate huntlow.

News Flash: You can hate something and not have to morally justify why.

Plus, Huntlow is still amazing rep. It's not queer rep, sure, but we already got two MONUMENTAL queer ships in TOH that have literally made history. Huntlow has a different kind of rep, as it's the best plus sized ship rep I've ever seen. How many times does a boy described as sickly and scrawny fall in love with a plus-sized girl? And how many times does that happen where the plus-sized character doesn't try and diet or gets a "makeover" and loses weight so their love interest will love them more? This kind of rep is so unheard of and it is INCREDIBLY important, especially in a kid's show. I have heard countless stories of plus sized young kids (and adults!) talking about how much this kind of rep means to them. I heard from a person who was told that they would never find love because of their weight, find extreme comfort with huntlow's plus sized rep. This ship could literally save lives with this kind of rep. (Could prevent people from failing into eating disorders, or could help people recover). This rep is SO important for plus-sized people.

Also people who say huntlow gets more attention then Lumity or raeda, I seriously DO NOT know what rock you're living under. Lumity and Raeda are pretty much universally accepted in the fandom as the top 2 ships, while Huntlow has pretty much remained controversial from the very beginning. Sure, now the majority of the fandom supports huntlow, but back in the ASIAS days it was fucking brutal. (I literally almost quit shipping it because of the blacklash on my first huntlow post). And even now, despite it being a minority, there is still a good chunk of people in the fandom who are huntlow antis. Huntlow is NOT getting more attention then Radea or Lumity just because its straight. If anything, Radea and Lumity are MUCH more popular in the fandom then huntlow. Like are you fucking kidding me with this???

Plus we don't even know if this is truly straight! For all we know Hunter or Willow could be bi, pan, omni. It could just be a straight passing relationship, and people aren't less queer for being in straight passing relationships!

So yeah. Go find a legitimate reason to hate on a ship.

[sapphic-scylla]

Hey can you point me to one of the places where JK Rowling said she wants trans people dead? I want it for reference and I’m having trouble finding anything

Lovely when people don’t understand political lobbying.

Why would she say that outright? Why would republicans say that outright? Why would anyone say they want trans people dead outright?

They wouldn’t and there is a reason for that. They want people to agree with them so they hide their true opinions behind political speech.

She calls us fake. She calls us not normal. She treats us like we’re crazy to get everyone to believe that we are threatening a “way of life” or that we’re a danger to the status quo of the beliefs in a gender binary so that people start treating us like the enemy.

Then come the bills. Illegal to get gender affirming surgery. Unable to change our names or gender markers. No more doctors can assist us in getting gender affirming help like HRT. Drag starts getting attacked from the government. Edicts start getting put out like doctors getting fired or their licenses removed for helping trans people feel good about themselves or parents getting their children taken away for the perceived “abuse” of allowing their children to be themselves and supporting their transness.

And then it gets worse when no one stops these bills and eventually it becomes illegal to be trans in general. People get it in their heads that now that these bills exist, trans people are put on the chopping block more and more. People bully and assault us more than they already are. Trans lives are threatened and the government refuses to do anything because trans people are dangerous. More transpeople are killed in an alley or by police or just left without work and starved. And the government doesn’t do anything because the victims were trans and it inspires people to keep doing it because they won’t get in trouble for it or if they do, it’s a slap on the wrist.

I’ve been actively bullied by anti-trans rhetoric and anti-trans people since I was twelve purely because people think that it’s fake and that I’m lying to myself. I’ve been called disgusting names and been told to commit suicide and threatened with physical violence by people who support JK’s views. I’ve even been physically assaulted by TERFs who believe Rowling’s disgusting beliefs.

A good portion of all of this hate spiraled from perhaps the world’s most popular book author past her prime who couldn’t even write a good book who decided to speak out against us and has the influence, money, and popularity to be able to fund a lot of rallying against us and continues to do so to this day. And people justified her by defending her poorly written book series that’s riddled with problematic behavior and fortifies her understanding and world views while being defended by the world as if it’s the Bible.

She does not say she wants trans people dead with her words, she says it with her actions. Just like every other person that has ever wanted a certain marginalized people dead. Because if you say it, than you are speaking the truth of your own beliefs. And people don’t want to agree with you if you are outright saying you want genocide because that’s “not ok for people to want”.

We’ve seen this before. Multiple times in human history. Propaganda, political rallying, and funding hateful people is where it begins. And if you can’t see it, you’re drinking just as much of her kool-aid as the rest of the trans exclusionary radical feminist movement and you’re truly deluded if you think that’s not where all of this is headed.

[olderthannetfic]

Want to just put my grain of sand about the deleting fics situation because... IDK it's been rubbing me the wrong way since it started but I exactly didn't know what was causing that. And after seeing the responses of the post where you make the film comparison the reason just snapped at me and it's more anecdotal than factual.

I'm both a writer and a reader. My first fics were poorly written because I was a dumb teenager who saw excessively amounts of popular BL OVAs. After two years of writing in Amor Yaoi I felt... not ashamed, but I didn't want to be associated with the most poorly written fics I did. So I deleted them. No reader came to me asking for them (I actually thought about my readers because it was a tiny rarepair fandom I wrote for —and I feel the "I don't think of the readers" happens in the big fandoms only TBH) so I was at ease.

Ellipse, hiatus were I didn't write shit, I discovered AO3 and started being more interested about archiving and fandom history.

It wasn't 'til last year that my brain clicked and said to me "biiiiiiiiiiitch archive your fics on AO3 what the hell are you waiting for". I opened my Amor Yaoi account and started copy-pasting everything (unfortunately AO3 does the import thing really bad with this damn php site) and something felt off. It wasn't 'til I discovered someone on Wattpad uploaded two of my deleted fics there that I realized what the off feeling was. I don't only feel bad for all the readers that magically found me in recents years and told me "your fics were my faves!!", I don't only feel bad for the archiving fandom history aspect, I also feel bad for myself. I lost record of my own development because I was dumb-dumb enough to not made a offline copy of them (and if I did my computer died without repair nor salvation so yeih! That's a possibility). That and the fact I'd love to make fun of my own shit, I read the ones I imported to AO3 and I was laughing horribly, good job past me.

TBH I suspect I'm not the only one who realized after years what a big oopsie-doo was to delete own fics.

And like... I don't know if it's me (probs are) as I'm really bad reading tones in English, but a lot of responses to the just-sad anons felt... unnecessarily aggressive. Yes, y'all entitled to delete your fics if you want (specially if the reason behind it is harassment but TBH I didn't feel this was the reason people were arguing of) as well as the anon is entitled to feel sad (and somewhat judgy) about the deletion, but the "good thing the fic got deleted just to piss you off anon" alike responses... Man. No, thanks. If I read some parts of the discussion wrong I'd happily accept the corrections since I don't keep track of everything, but some of those responses came off as if the author's point of view is The Truly True Truth of Truths™. I suspect a lot of people didn't have that intention in mind while writing the responses, but that was how I (and probs other) felt them.

IDK, I don't have any conclusions besides the "if you delete your fic you do you, but as a concept and action I'm super against of it (as a reader, as a writer and as someone interested in fandom history who will fight to make a little course at university if possible surrounding the topic) and I'd be better if you orphan them, anonymize them in your own Anonymous collection or put them on a shady hard-to-find website only the Hackers™ will find like some Chinese dōujinshi translators do —it'd also be good to keep this suggestion in consideration: if you put somewhere 'hey I deleted this thing if y'all want a copy just ask me Somewhere™ and I'll pass it to you no problemo' as I've seen it isn't a new way to deal with this situation" one because I'm tired RN.

I expect insults for this ask, so feel free y'all. Oh, and also this is the most interesting (for me at least) discussion that had happened on this blog since the disposable plates one.

--

[starcolonelkatrinamoon]

🔴🟠⚪🔮

- Star Commander Hannah Lewis

Taking an interest in me, Star Commander? Very well, I shall endeavor to answer your questions.

As a general principle I do not respect, nor will I ever respect Clan Wolf. They have treated us poorly in the past, and though they permitted us to become a clan once again upon winning the ilClan trial, we are not truly a peer any more. They have stripped that from us.

A faction that no longer exists... well. I know that I should say Star League. It would make the most sense. However, my time in the Fidelis told me otherwise. I have learned much of history. Though my belief is not... firm, we shall say, I think that Clan Blood Spirit was done a great many wrongs and deserve to be reconstituted. It helps that I have some... strong opinions of Clan Star Adder.

The first "vehicle" I ever operated was a suit of Nighthawk XII light power armor with the Fidelis. It is a quite effective suit of armor, though I have a strong preference towards other forms of battle armor. As for an actual Battlemech, my first was a Hunchback IIC, followed by a Hunchback 4G that was heavily modified by myself.

As for what I think of the Inner Sphere. Well, this could be a complicated answer. I have fought alongside many IS and Clan forces in my years. Many of those were under special operations conditions when I was Fidelis. I have found that as a generality they are every bit as judgemental and hardheaded as we can be. And yes, they can be lazy, impetuous, dishonorable. But I have also seen them utilize tactical acumen that we historically did not posses - as well as a willingness to go to lengths that we would not for the same goals.

So, I believe the best answer would be that I hold a cautious respect for them. But it is tempered with the knowledge of what they can do - after all, because of them, Huntress was taken from us.

Does this succinctly answer your questions, Star Commander?

[connectjump]

okay modern-day au with the MDZS characters, but make it a ghost-hunter au because it's been rattling around in my head for a while.

the unlikely four-man squad starting: wwx, jc, nhs, and lwj.

wei wuxian -

the unofficial leader of the group made it after a night of drinking and eating snacks with jc & nhs where he brought it up and they all went "sure why not".

wwx is the dude who always has something funny to say and jc is always ready to throw a response that others will quote or make fan art of.

makes a lot of equipment since he likes making things, and tinkering with whatever they do own to make it even better.

even better meaning it'll annoy the living hell out of jc.

is a bit of a spirit magnet. this is both good, and dangerous due to nhs's sensitivity to spirits.

he picks the places that the group will go to and is always ready to drop extra history of the place at the worst time.

aka the things, a ghost or demon might have done to a living person.

wwx : SO! it was in this very room that this one dude died [very horrible death]. jc is very much on the side of team, "stop talking before you freak out nhs anymore than he already is."

may or may not have talked lwj into joining their group. he may or may not also tease lwj any chance he gets.

jiang cheng -

jc is the voice of reason on the team. for every three ideas wwx has, jc has four ready in response of why, no, and absolutely not.

in charge of finding places to stay, and finding local shops in the area to interview folks.

probably hates the sound of the spirit box.

jc very much seemed the one whose not so easily startled when something happens, and usually has a logical explanation to keep himself and others calm.

jc can repel spirits to a small degree, the zone is about a 5mm radius around his person and those near him are safe and unaffected by the spirits. he isn't aware of this skill.

the designated driver of the group. can read a map, but uses the GPS that was gifted to him.

He's also the one who comments on the layout of everywhere they visit because if nobody is going to mention how POORLY thought out these old haunted buildings are. he will bring it up.

"these blueprints fucking suck. i would come back to haunt this place and the son of a bitch who made it if i died here." - jc

nie huaisang -

nhs joined the group because what's more fun than doing something with your friends after doing things you do not want to do.

poor nhs.

nhs is very much the sort of guy in the group who is like "i know a guy, who knows a guy and that guy knows something really interesting about this place."

wwx and jc never ask how nhs knows people or the more cryptic things about the building because nhs's only response was "the ghosts told me" in the most serious voice and they've been too scared to bring the question up again.

how and what nhs knows can be for nhs to know only.

wishes that he wasn't the one left alone in an area all by himself without the lights on, a mag light, a radio, and a spirit box.

spirits like the little guy, but nhs does not care much for them.

the one who's the most sensitive to spirits. but lwj is helping him with training to better resist the push & pull from spirits.

lwj and nhs are an unlikely duo when working together and outside of ghost hunting. the two know one another prior to ghost hunting due to their families, but never really interacted much more than was needed of them.

lan wangji -

the fourth member of the group! a surprising addition to the ones who know him and a fan favorite.

lwj is good with the equipment that they use and watching cameras when at base camp.

his family has knowledge of spirits, how to handle them, bring them peace, and help them crossover.

lwj makes sure that the group is well-protected and safe if the location is truly dangerous to them. wwx is always happy to show off whatever little charm (sometimes a little rabbit is often doodled on the charms!!) or a talisman lwj has made for the group.

he helps to round the group out, and fans enjoy how monotone he sounds and how unaffected he seems by the supernatural occurrences happening.

lwj is often paired with wwx when the group splits up into pairs. fans seem to enjoy their interactions, especially seeing how close the two of them become since lwj is very much still lwj.

lwj finds himself impressed with the group as a whole, everyone works well with one another, and their personalities mesh well.

when on break from ghost hunting wwx gifts lwj two rabbits, he will often post pictures of them online or send pictures of them into the ghost hunting group chat. the rabbits are spoiled rotten, most of it is lwj, but jc is also the next biggest spoiler of the rabbits with wwx and nhs being tied.

[larkaloke]

Yezka'al: BG3 Questions Answered

Because I'm aware that I don't really know many people on here, but I wanted to answer all those character questions anyway, I'm just doing it in this format. But hey, if you have another question not on the list about Yezka'al (in this post) or (for the coming one) Vethryn, feel free to ask it!

QUESTIONS ANSWERED

What was your Tav’s place of birth and raising like? Yezka'al was born and raised in a creche on the Prime, but they never left the creche; they were (relatively speaking) somewhat coddled in the creche because of their noble parentage, and went back to live in Tu'narath once they were fully grown. [I'm cherry-picking a bit of older Githyanki lore here, but with dialogue options that are available, I think it works well enough still.]

What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age? Yezka'al didn't care much for their family or creche-sibs. They were ambitious, determined to succeed, and mostly considered how well other people would help them in doing that. If they had it to do over again things would probably be very different, but they don't, and given their current appearance, they're not likely to seek anyone out post-rebellion. Presuming they survive, of course.

Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not? They did well in their martial studies, middling in politics and history, and rather poorly in everything else.

What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests? Yezka'al didn't really have any hobbies. They told themself that it was better to dedicate themself entirely to Vlaakith's service, but they also weren't given an opportunity to form hobbies. Researching other planes was their only hobby-adjacent activity, and they could write it off as being useful.

Did your Tav have any formal or informal employment? If yes, what was their job? If no, how did they make ends meet? How did they feel about it? If "on the fast track to being a knight in Vlaakith's service" counts as employment, yes. Otherwise no.

What is your Tav’s favourite childhood memory? What circumstances led to your Tav becoming their Class/Subclass? They were trained as a warrior from the time they could hold anything like a weapon, but the Eldritch Knight choice was because of their fascination with magic.

Did your Tav have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how did they feel about being single? No. They were never interested in any of that. That's the one thing about their past life they don't regret.

What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mind flayers? Hunting a mind flayer, ironically. It failed... rather spectacularly.

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest skill? Is this accurate? Yezka'al is aware that taking things apart with a very large sword is their greatest skill. They also think they're pretty good with the spells they've learned, but that's not accurate. The sword thing is. (They also think they're a decent diplomat. Not true. They just happen to know proper Githyanki etiquette which doesn't exactly translate well to most cultures.)

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate? They are, at this point, keenly aware that their judgment is in question and they made a lot of truly fucked choices.

What opinion does your Tav have about the Gods? Fairly neutral. They exist. Some of them are reasonable to worship. Some of them aren't. One of their friends is a god now, so I guess there's that.

How does your Tav feel about the wilderness? It's... interesting. Different. Often uncomfortable and dirty. It lacks the austere majesty of the astral sea.

How does your Tav feel about the city? So many people, so many smells. Actually worse than the wilderness.

What motivates your Tav to either embrace or resist the tadpole? Yezka'al did great at resisting the tadpoles because obviously they didn't want anything to do with illithid anything until they met Vlaakith and learned what was going on in the astral prism, at which point (after killing as few people as possible on the way out of the creche) they found a nice hole and binged on tadpoles. It was one of those bad decisions they made.

How does your Tav feel about killing? Killing is what they do best. It is a necessity. It's just... killing. They don't see it as anything special in particular.

How good of a liar is your Tav? How do they feel about lying? They are not a good liar, and usually don't bother. Generally they equate lying with cowardice and cowardice is the worst character flaw one can have, to them.

What is your Tav’s greatest fear? Ironically, becoming a mind flayer.

What is your Tav’s greatest desire? It was once to serve Vlaakith as well as possible and rise to the highest position in her court they could, but now they're completely focused on overthrowing Vlaakith and serving Orpheus instead.

What is your Tav’s greatest regret? It's hard to say, because they made a lot of bad decisions. Helping that one guy kidnap Isobel in the Last Light to try to infiltrate Moonrise Towers and then giving up on the infiltration angle anyway has got to be up there. Then there's helping that vampire rogue they took along to pick locks ascend but realizing that was a bad idea and immediately killing him. Or killing Kagha in the grove because obviously someone needed to and accidentally starting a massacre. Or... well, you get the idea. Lots to choose from.

How does your Tav feel about love? It's better to have friends. They just Do Not Get It.

Has your Tav become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not? They're very good friends with Lae'zel, considering her almost like family at this point (specifically, like a younger sister who is sometimes annoying, but mostly great). Shadowheart is their best friend other than that.

What are 2-3 songs that your Tav would relate to? Uh... let's see. Veteran of the Psychic Wars - Blue Oyster Cult; Rebellion in Dreamland - Gamma Ray; When Legends Rise - Godsmack

What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers? They try to avoid being seen by strangers now, since it would be 'agh illithid', but before that they were fairly intimidating already.

How does your Tav feel about what others think of them? They really don't care. Or so they tell themself. In fact, they do care about what a few people think; mostly their chosen leader (Orpheus, now) and the handful of people they actually care about enough (Lae'zel, Shadowheart, maybe Gale).

Does your Tav have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special? If no, how do they feel about item sentimentality in general? They treasure their silver sword. It's a symbol both of what they had striven for their whole life and the new world they seek to build. Holding it now reminds them that they are still, somehow and to some extent, Githyanki.

How does your Tav feel about giving and receiving orders? They'll take orders from a very few people, and are completely comfortable giving orders. They expect to lead.

How well does your Tav function under pressure? Yezka'al would still tell themself that they function well under pressure, of course they do, but they really don't. Thus all the messed up choices they made.

What advice would you give to your Tav? Most of the advice would only be useful in retrospect, such as "hey, if you actually don't kill Karlach you might not have to become an illithid eventually!". After what they've done... well, they're making the best of it they can now.

What are your Tav’s intentions/goals after the end of the game? Yezka'al's sole focus now is to see Vlaakith defeated and Orpheus enthroned with their people free. After that is done - earlier if they start to slip and become unrecognizably themself, wholly illithid - they have asked Lae'zel to kill them.

[broodwolf221]

i cannot do fic work tonight so instead i did a HUGE dialogue chain btwn valyris and solas as voice practice but it's legit kinda interesting so i'm gonna post it here and also on ao3 > here <

Valyris: Solas... Solas: Yes? Valyris: What did you tell the Dalish? Solas: Pardon me? Valyris: When we first met, you mentioned that you told them things they did not wish to hear. I am curious what you told them. Solas: I... I see. Valyris: I did not expect you to hesitate. Solas: It made them quite angry. Valyris: And you think I will be angry at you, too? Solas: It has occurred to me. Valyris: It might even be true. Still, I would like to know. Solas: I suppose I can understand. I would ask that you at least consider what I say. Valyris: Hmm. On one condition. Solas: Which is? Valyris: That you will consider what I say about my people’s beliefs. Solas: Hm. Valyris: Is that not fair? Solas: Oh, it is entirely fair, I just... [sighs] Very well. I accept your condition. Valyris: Excellent. Now, please tell me. Solas: In short, I told them that they were wrong. Valyris: [snorts] I can see why that didn’t go over well. Solas: Indeed. Valyris: Wrong about what, exactly? Solas: Their faith, mostly. Their history. What they should be. Valyris: Let’s start at the beginning, then. What is wrong with our faith? Solas: [sighs] Valyris: You said you’d tell me. Solas: I am regretting that very much, now. Valyris: [laughs] Solas: But a promise is a promise... in the Fade, I saw memories of the ancient Elvhen. I saw the way they worshipped. Valyris: Was it so different? Solas: Entirely. Valyris: How so? Solas: When you worship your Creators, it is an act of reverence, is it not? Valyris: Yes, of course. Solas: When they worshipped them, it was an act of fear. Valyris: Fear? Solas: Indeed. Fear that they would inherit their wrath. You pray for favor; they prayed to avoid punishment. Valyris: And you think they were right? Solas: I think... that not all so-called gods are truly gods at all. Valyris: You would compare our Creators to Corypheus? Solas: Not directly, no, but think of it this way: if we fail, if Corypheus succeeds, is it not possible that in the coming decades he will be seen as a god? Is it not possible that he will be prayed to? That the initial fear will be distorted into something more palatable? Valyris: You are comparing them. Solas: [sighs] If you wish to see it that way, you may. However, Corypheus remains the best, most relevant example of how extreme power is not divine, and of how extreme power sometimes seeks to be called divine. What I saw in the Fade was not reverence. It was closer to those under Speaker Anais, those who worshipped the rifts. Fear, an attempt to appease a great, powerful force, an attempt to guard themselves from reprisal. Valyris: And this is what you told the Dalish clans you encountered? Solas: Some of them, yes. I tried to share different parts of what I had seen with different clans. Bringing their faith into question always ended... poorly. Valyris: I am not surprised. Our faith binds us - it is the one thing that crosses clan lines. Even those elves who live their lives in shem cities seem to have some understanding of the Creators. Solas: So, the truth does not matter? Valyris: I’m not sure what you saw is the truth, but even if it was... [sighs] I do not know. Perhaps the truth is important. Perhaps only the impact is important. I believe in the Creators, Solas. I and many others. I do not think that is useless or naive.