#i'm berating myself but this was a lot of fun

[masschase]

Casey Belle isn't real and she can't shoot me

Casey Belle:

This is the most 'internet' thing I have done

[darcytaylor]

I'm stepping away. This isn't fun anymore.

This used to be fun. Coming on here and posting about Bridgerton, Nicola, Luke, and the cast was something I genuinely enjoyed. I had a good time, and it was something I looked forward to.

But lately, I’ve been feeling really disheartened by the negativity that’s crept in, especially when all I wanted was to share my thoughts and enjoy the community.

I never really belonged to any specific part of the fandom. I’m not a shipper, and I don’t harbour any negativity toward other Bridgerton fandoms. I love Polin the most because I’m a sucker for friends-to-lovers.

I’ve always tried to observe situations and voice my thoughts in a level-headed way. Was I always perfect in how I expressed myself? No. But I always tried to make an effort to be respectful to everyone in my comments, asks, and to the fandom as a whole.

I think it might be time for a break - to give myself some space from the toxicity that’s been surfacing everywhere in this fandom.

I posted about how I don’t think it’s right to state as fact that Nicola is in a relationship with Jake (because, let’s face it, it’s all speculation), and I got berated in my asks.

I also posted about a creator shouting me out in a video, which brought a lot of new followers to my blog (I still appreciate you Caroline!), and again, I got berated in my asks.

It’s been fun, but this fandom just isn’t for me right now.

Will I be back? Maybe. But for now, I’m taking a break.

I'm sorry for the people who have just followed me, I still appreciate you.

And I am very sorry to the people who have been with me since the beginning. I see you guys in my comments, liking my posts, and even in my inbox saying lovely things. But sometimes toxicity wins and I need to bow out.

❤️ ✌️

[starry-eyes-love]

Marriage Dynamics- Relaxin' is Hard Work

Main Masterlist    Series Masterlist 

Pairings: Husband Joel Miller x F!Reader (18+ Minors DNI) AU, No outbreak

Summary | Joel takes the day off to spend it with you. You take him to a salon for a couples pedicure and massage, but somehow your wires get crossed and instead of spending the afternoon relaxing, you spend the afternoon working on improving communication in your marriage. Reader mentions she's pregnant, but is too scared to admit it to her husband. Joel eventually figures it out.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Husband and wife marriage dynamics, age gap (he's 52 and she's 37), language, light smut (reader gets handsy in public), Joel whimpers at her touching him (it needs its own warning), arguments with angst at times, reader berates herself, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader over thinks things (a lot), terms of endearment used (baby, babe, honey, mama, Angel, etc.), slight flirtatious behavior (what can I say, Joel loves his wife), Joel tickles his wife (it needs its own warning), fluffy parts sprinkled in here and there, reference and descriptions of pregnancy, references to unplanned pregnancy, female reader briefly mentions past abuse with father (yet no in-depth specifics are given), mentions of body issues and body descriptions, mentions of feeling ill (female reader gets sick and vomits in garbage can). Think I got them all. Enjoy :)

Word Count:  6.1k

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since…

Joel stood there next to you at the counter glancing over all the items that were there, thinking to himself, why do I get myself in these predicaments with her? Here he was taking the day off from work to spend it with you, something that doesn't happen very often. You promised him a fun, relaxing day together. However, as he watched you pay for a couples massage and pedicure, he thought this is not my idea of fun nor relaxin’.  

Earlier that Day

"Darlin', I'm not sure about this," he said as you pulled up to the salon.

"Come on Joel, you're always griping about how your back and feet hurt. Now you can take care of them," you replied while parking the car.

You watched him rub the back of his neck awkwardly saying "I know baby, but me, a pedicure? I mean come on, I thought we were gonna do something fun.”

"Joel, you're gonna love it, trust me.” 

Joel just glared at you as he slowly ground his teeth while releasing a long exhale. He was trying to figure out how he could get out of doing this.

“Babe, you'll really relax doing this.” You said, trying to get him to see reason.

“No I won't Angel. This-” Joel said, waving his hand towards the salon, “is just plain silly. Sure for you it's fun and relaxin’, but for me, it's just silly. If the guys at the construction site ever saw this-”

“The guys at the construction site, is that what you're really concerned about? The guys?”

“Babe, you don't understand.”

“Yeah I get it Joel. God forbid you spend a day with your wife doing something relaxing. How embarrassing that would be for you.”  You replied, letting anger seep into your words.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh saying “Nevermind, ya don't understand.”

You instantly felt a sting of jealousy at his concern, that being seen with his wife would cause him extreme discomfort.  Joel hardly saw you anymore, and he never had a problem doing this stuff with you in the past. In a defeated tone you said, “Fine Joel, I get it. This is silly. But babe, we don't get to spend any time together.”

“And you thought that this was the best way to do it? A damn pedicure? Where the hell does this say ‘Joel Miller would love this,’ huh?” You watched him shake his head and look out the passenger window frustrated.

You felt your internal walls go up, wanting to shut down. To close yourself off from people who hurt you. You wanted to retreat back into the darkness of your mind, not allow anyone in again. You've struggled in life for far too long with this concept of not allowing others in. Joel was the only man who could break down those walls, and now you were struggling not to push him out.

In the past Joel used to do fun little things like this with you, even if they were silly. Hell, he was the first person to introduce you to the world of pedicures and massages when he dated you. It was the best activity the two of you could do with his young preteen daughter when he couldn't find a babysitter. You never minded back then as you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. You remember one time you were a little hesitant and Joel eased your nerves by saying ‘Come on darlin.' It doesn't matter what the guys at the construction site or anyone else says. I wanna spend time with you. I know this seems silly, but it'll be relaxin’. I can promise you that, so trust me.’ You found yourself repeating those exact same words to Joel now, begging with your eyes for him to remember.

“Honey, that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard as to why we should do this. Whoever said that to you was a liar and an idiot” he told you, shaking his head and laughing hard. You quickly looked away and felt the red hot burn in the back of your throat start. He didn't remember his time with you. 

Joel had hardly been home for the past year. His business, Miller Contracting, signed the biggest contract in history about a year ago out of town. Joel was making a large amount of money, his business skyrocketing almost overnight after years of struggle. You, being his wife, were so proud of him, for his ability to never have to struggle with his business again. He had work lined up for the next 3 years for this big development company, and then he just recently signed two more large contracts for other companies. Joel finally had steady work for many more years to come. You knew that Joel Miller was finally set for life with his business. But you couldn't say the same thing for your marriage.

Joel used to do all these silly little things with you. It's what made hard times bearable in the past. But ever since a year ago your husband's attitude has changed. In the past year you felt like you had gone from Joel's loving wife, to a ‘thing’ or an ‘it’ to him.

“I guess you're right,” you said, looking out the window at the salon. You were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to come at the realization that life was different now. “I don't know what else we could do at the last minute.”

“Yeah, m’ither” Joel said while picking lint off his jeans and refusing to look at you in the face anymore.

“Joel, do you still want to do something with me today?” You waited in silence as he stared out the window, not answering you.

“Joel” you said a little bit louder, still trying for a connection. But yet again, no answer. Uncomfortable silence continued for several minutes, neither one of you uttering a single word. Finally, Joel broke first by exhaling loudly. He then closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat's headrest. 

“Joel, are you still with me honey?” you asked one last time. When silence continued, that's when you understood that you had failed miserably at trying to have a fun and relaxing day.

“I'll just take you home then, leave you alone, and let you rest.” You mumbled out loud, more to yourself. “God y/n, why are you so fucking stupid. If he didn't want to do stuff with you before, he sure as hell won't want to do anything with you now. Stupid, stupid, silly girl.” 

What you didn't realize was that you verbalized your internal turmoil, and the man sitting next to you heard it. Joel hated hearing you berate yourself, a bad habit that you picked up from your father and your father's now divorced ex-wife. Joel knew that he was the cause of your current stress and anxiety. After all, he was the asshole who was never home and when he was, you two were always arguing and fighting all the time.  Sure, you’ve had some amazing days like Halloween night and a promise of a week ago in the car, something that he never followed through with because he got called away to deal with shit at work. He was failing you as your partner and your husband, but most of all he was failing you as your best friend.  You were his best friend, the only person that he loved spending time with. It was just today he didn’t feel up to this silly stuff you wanted to do. He knew he was the one who introduced you to this stuff with Sarah all those years ago, and that today you were just reaching for familiar territory. 

Joel sat there with his eyes closed and continued to listen to you berate yourself out loud. Why does she fucking do this to herself, she knows better, he thought. He was just about to open his mouth and yell at you to knock it off when he heard you whisper “Baby, I don’t know how to tell your daddy that you’re in there. How can I when your daddy and I can't seem to find common ground anymore.”

As soon as he heard your little admission, at the potential of you being pregnant again, Joel snapped his eyes open and looked over at you. How did I not notice this, he thought. He immediately started scanning over your body, looking for any signs that he may have missed. When he stopped and really looked at you he saw them. Your black t-shirt sat more snug around your chest, he could see that your breasts were slightly swollen. Your curves were more profound, not from fat, but from water weight he suspected.  Your tummy, a little pouch forming low on your belly.  That's a baby, he thought. His baby, the one he put there on Halloween night. You always started to show really early on in your pregnancy. According to your doctor it was extra water weight, but to Joel it was a sign of life. Something that he hasn’t seen your body do for many years, considering your youngest boy was now seven.  

Joel continued to trail his eyes slowly back up your features. He noticed the dark circles underneath your eyes. You weren’t sleeping and that worried him.  You two had lost a baby before when you were 22 weeks along, a little girl that came a year before your youngest boy.  He had given you two boys, but he knew you always wanted to try again for a little girl. But somehow life got in the way and you two never tried for a girl again. He was hoping this time around it was a girl.

With remembering your past pregnancies, Joel wondered how you were feeling.  He knew the first stages of pregnancy were hard on you. You’d hardly sleep or eat, nausea being the worst culprit.  With Joshua, your youngest, you could hardly keep anything down during the entire pregnancy.  God, he hoped that wasn’t your fate now. At least he was making enough money to cover all the living expenses, in case you weren't able to work through it like before. 

Joel then allowed his eyes to roam higher up to your eyes, that's when he saw that they were bloodshot. You were crying and berating yourself because of how he made a stupid comment, that he was embarrassed being seen with you at doing a pedicure. Jesus Joel, you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, he thought. 

He sat there and watched you for a moment, at your struggle to try to stop the tears that were falling from your eyes. Seeing this, hearing your confession and actually looking at you, at how stressed out you were made his heart ache. He hated to see you cry, and yet you've been doing that a lot recently, thanks to him.

"Come on, darlin,'’ you heard Joel say. “My back and feet don't have all day.  Let's get this salon pampering day started.”

"Joel it's ok, we don't have to-" you said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"No," he said. "It's a perfect idea honey, the best way to relax. I'm so sorry for snapping. I'm just- fuck baby, I'm stressed and struggling to find a proper balance between both worlds. Now come on darlin.’” Joel said, while giving your hand a tender kiss. As you both walked towards the salon, Joel gently intertwined his fingers with yours. He gave small soothing strokes with his thumb, reassuring you that he was here and present for you.

Soon Joel found himself staring at a wall with different colors of nail polish. He was being directed by you to choose a color that he wanted his toes to be painted with. "Darlin', the lady at the counter said I don't need to pick out colored nail polish." 

"Tough cowboy, you're doing it. Plus it'll show support to women everywhere if you do." You tried your hardest to give him a convincing answer of why you wanted him to do this. He just looked at you and smirked, seeing straight through your attempt.

“Supportin' women has nothin' to do with it. Ya just want to laugh at me, that's all." He said, shaking his head at your attempt with reasoning with him. Why do I always get myself in these situations with her?  But as he glanced over he saw you smiling ear to ear. You were practically jumping for joy at the thought of having a couples massage and couples pedicure with him. That's when he knew that all of this was worth it, especially if he could see you look happy and smile like that again. 

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since the two of you fucked, and God he was missing you.

As you were wiggling in Joel's arms laughing you happened to accidentally brush your hand up against his clothed crotch, and that's when you felt it, a firm prominent bulge. As soon as your hand brushed up against him you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. He then gently nudged his hips against your hand while giving you a little whimper.

“Joel, how long has it been?” you asked, slowly palming him in the front. You were concerned, Joel was never this sensitive to sensation before and he's never whimpered like that just by the meer push of your palm. Oh, poor baby, you thought, you weren't the only one who had been neglected. You palmed him harder, trying to show him what you wanted. You felt him twitch and throb beneath you. “Baby, how long?” you whispered, pushing harder with your hand as he rutted up into you, seeking out more friction.

“Too long,” he panted. “It's been too fucking long since I, since we, fuck woman” he growled and snapped his hips forward, desperately seeking pleasure from you.  He wanted to open his pants and tell you to get down on your knees and to suck his cock. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad, then bend you over one of those salon chairs and bury himself inside of you. He wanted to show you he could be the man you needed, and be the father for your children. He wanted to put a baby inside of your nice soft-

“Baby, when was your last period?” Joel said, stopping his movements and racing mind for a moment. When you didn't answer he continued by saying “I don't remember when you had your period last. Have you had one in the last two months?”

“Don't worry about it” you said, while slowly pulling your hand away. This was not a conversation you wanted to have right now.

You walked over to the side, a few feet away from Joel and you were pretending to look at the colors of nail polish. What you were really doing was trying to slow your pounding heart in your chest. Joel approached you and slowly started to stroke your little bump saying “how late are we talking mama, huh?”

“Joel it's only 10 am and-”

“S'not what I meant sugar and you know it. Come on mama, how far along are we?” Joel said, flattening his palm over your belly and holding it there. 

You looked into your husband's eyes and saw compassion behind them. You were just about to open your mouth and tell him that you were 3 weeks late when someone said “Y/n and Joel Miller, they're ready for you.”

As soon as you heard them call your names you backed away and grabbed the purple nail polish that was right in front of you. It reminded you of the first time you did this all those years ago with Sarah and him. It made you smile at the warm memory. This one is perfect, you thought. You handed it to Joel saying “I think this color would look great for the both of us.”

When Joel looked down he saw that the nail polish was purple with sparkles in it, your favorite color. When he glanced at your face he saw uncertainty in your eyes at the events that just played out. So with a grin and a squeeze from his large hand he grabbed the jar from you and said “Ok, purple it is. Now come on mama, let's go and get you nice and relaxed.” 

Three hours later Joel was slowly relaxing. He was laying on his stomach, purple sparkly toe nails poking through the blanket, as a very attractive woman worked the hell out of his shoulders. Kiara, Joel's masseuse, was an expert in deep tissue massage. After the staff found out that he basically was one big hard tight knot, he was advised that deep tissue massage would be the best option.

"Aw darlin' right there," Joel said as Kiara worked on his lower back. 

"Mr. Miller, you're so stiff and tight. It's gonna take me a bit to work you fully out. Does it feel better when I press right here?" Kiara asked, pushing on Joel's lower back, a place you knew turned your husband on.

"Ah yeah, right there" Joel grunted at the sensation.

You were on your own massage table being worked on by Fredrick, a middle aged man with a beer gut. While Joel had Kiara, a 42 year old big breasted, fully fit porn star looking woman. You know, the type of women your husband likes to look at when he's browsing those adult only sites. 

As you continued to watch Kiara flirt with your husband, you felt your insecurities creep up into your skull, worrying you.  You had no idea if Joel would be ok with this unplanned pregnancy. You knew the old Joel would be ok with it. But now you had no idea how he'd react, especially with how he has behaved this past year.  The longer this went on, the more your irrational fears seeped deep into your subconscious. 

When Joel moaned for the third time in less than five minutes at Kiara asking him if something felt good, you found yourself snapping at your husband.  "Joel, for the love of God, can you please just shut the hell up? Really, no one wants to hear how good it feels to have someone else touch you." You didn't know why, but you were upset, angry, and hurt all at the same time. Somehow hearing someone else pull those little sighs or grunts out of your husband bothered the hell out of you.

"Look here woman, I'm enjoying myself, ok? Your fault for making me do this. So pull back the attitude now." He said, snapping at you.

After a moment he added, "What's with your attitude anyways today, huh?" 

"I don't know Joel, why don't you tell me."

"Look here missy, I don't know what's up your ass today. But whatever it is, it can just stop. Don't ruin this for me with your petty bullshit. Got it?" he said, with a warning in his voice.

"Petty bullshit, really? Are you kidding me Joel? You promised me you’d spend time with me today. And-”

“And what y/n? What more could you possibly want from me today than what I’m already giving you?”

When you didn't open your mouth to argue, Joel assumed the problem was solved. That you'd stop throwing your little temper tantrum. But what he didn't realize was that the emotion you were now feeling wasn't one of defiance. You were feeling neglected and you didn't want to do this day anymore. You thought you could have a fun day with your husband, like you used to when you two dated. But now, you just wanted to go home, and pretend that today and this past year never happened. You wanted your husband to be around, present more, and not treat you like you were someone who was a burden or a checkmark on a list. You wanted to pretend that your husband still cared. 

When you counted it up, it had been almost two months since you and Joel had sex last. To make matters worse, your period was almost 3 weeks late. You were worried about what he'd say when he found out.  You were pregnant, that much was evident on the pregnancy test that you had taken over a week ago. You knew that your fears right now were irrational, that you were just making something out of nothing. But to you your fears felt very real.  And with Joel smiling and laughing so easily with Kiara, it made your stomach hurt and twist in knots at the thought that he didn't want you anymore. 

You were so lost in your own head, that you didn’t notice that Fredrick had stopped massaging your back.  He could sense how tense your body was, and the turmoil of feelings that you were feeling. "Mrs. Miller, are you ok?" he whispered.  When you didn’t respond to him right away, he said louder “Mrs. Miller, are you ok?”

As soon as Joel heard the question from Fredrick he snapped his head to the side to look at you. When he saw you, you were laying face down, your hand up by your mouth as you were sobbing into the table.  “Baby, are you ok?” Joel asked, worried and concerned of what made you fall apart like this.  

"Yeah, I'm. I'm fine” you said, trying not to have your voice break. “Can you um- can you please excuse me. I gotta- I don’t feel well.”  You then got up, and walked into the changing room that was attached, tears still streaming down your face.

As Joel watched you walk away he knew this little adventure the two of you were having today was over with.  He apologized to Kiara and Fredrick, stating that the both of you would be leaving early. As he went to his own dressing room to get dressed, he started thinking to himself.  He knew that you were stressed out a lot, and that the two of you were having problems. He also knew that you just wanted a day to relax with him, so seeing you like this broke his heart. You have cried a lot recently and he could understand why, but it still bothered him. He didn't mean to snap at you today, he was just stressed out himself. He began to realize though that his stressors and your stressors were drastically different.

Something was up with you, that much was certain. You were more sensitive and emotional recently. If he attempted to ask you about it, you'd just blow up at him. Usually when you were more emotional it meant that you were by or on your period. But Joel was confused, especially with seeing those other bodily signs that you were having. Were you pregnant and he just didn't see it? Or were you having flare ups of your gynecological problems again and he wasn't noticing it. He was so busy with work that he didn't remember if you had your period yet, that's why he asked you earlier today. He was trying to calm his own irrational fears of being an inattentive husband. 

The problem was he didn't know what was off or how to fix it with you. If your admission earlier was true, that you were in fact pregnant, then why did you hide it from him and not tell him?  Were you embarrassed in carrying his child? Joel was lost in thought, trying to figure out what he could do that he almost missed hearing you get sick in the other room. As soon as he heard the telltale signs of you throwing up he muttered to himself “shit,” and finished getting dressed.

While Joel was in his dressing room getting lost in thought, you were in yours doing the same thing. You quietly dressed in your changing room, trying to calm the tears that were flowing. As you looked down you noticed the little bump you had. You kept trying to flatten your shirt overtop of it, to hide it from the world. You weren’t upset that you were pregnant, you were just overwhelmed at the moment and didn't want to think about it.  But the more you tried to suck in your gut, to flatten your shirt, you started to slowly panic. You tried tucking in your shirt, then you untucked it, nothing worked to hide what was growing inside of you. You couldn't hide the embarrassment of getting pregnant from a man who you didn’t think wanted you anymore. In your experience, which was limited, an unplanned pregnancy when there were marital problems never resulted in a happy ending for the mother or wife. As this realization hit you, you felt the bile rise up fast in your throat.  Your hands were shaking, and you were drowning in your own irrational fears and anxiety. Worst part, no matter what you did you couldn't calm yourself down.

Tears began to flow hard again from your eyes as you tried anything to stop the anxiety from swallowing you whole. You felt like you were suffocating, drowning in a pool of uneasiness.  Your vision went fuzzy, your ears started to ring, and the whole world started to spin on its axis. You reached out and were fumbling around the room, trying to find something to grab onto to center yourself. As soon as you grabbed the garbage can your knees buckled and you collapsed. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt the bile rise up fast again in your throat. You grabbed the garbage can just in time as your body heaved the entire contents out of your stomach into the trash.  

You were retching so hard into the garbage, shaking with panic as tears flowed down your face that you never heard the door open and a man approach you. Your anxiety was swallowing you whole and you said with a breathless plea to yourself, in-between vomiting sessions, that you were scared and couldn't do this anymore. Then like a miracle from heaven, you felt those familiar rough hands gently reach out and center you once again.

When Joel entered the room his heart sank at seeing you collapsed on the ground and retching into the garbage can. You were pleading for someone to help you, to make the pain and anxiety stop. You were drowning in your own anxiety and it broke his heart. No one hurts my babies, he thought, especially him.

Joel slowly walked up to you and gently reached out to gather your hair into his hands. After he pulled it back from your face he placed one of his hands gently on your tummy, while whispering “Shh, mama. Take a breath. Come on now, you’re okay. I'm right here and I ain’t leavin’. Shhh.” He continued to rub soothing circles on your belly, right where the little bump was.  When you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach Joel grabbed a towel and gently wiped your mouth saying “well, I thought that wasn’t gonna happen for a while yet.”

“What?” you said, confused, feeling completely worn out by today’s events.

“Baby, you do a bad job at hiding it.” Joel said with a smirk on his lips.

“Joel, I don’t know what you’re-” and then it dawned on you, he heard you. He heard your admission in the car that you were pregnant.  As soon as that realization hit you, Joel watched your eyes go wide as you started to shake your head violently back and forth. You stood up and immediately started backing away from him, eyes blown wide with anxiety and panic once again.

Joel slowly stood up and watched you as realization took hold of you of your earlier admission. “Baby, take a breath for me, ok?” he said, trying to calm the fear and panic that you had. As he slowly approached you he said “sugar you gotta slow your breathing down, come here, let me help you.” He slowly reached out to you so you could center yourself.

“No, no, no. You can't know, I can't do this alone. Please God, why is this happening to me?” you said out loud, not wanting the world to fall apart around you.  You didn’t want this discussion now, not when you didn’t know what you could do.  You didn’t want him to kick you out, to say that you disappointed him, that you were a disappointment.  Joel never said those words to you, your father did when he found out that you were dating his best friend. And the way your father dealt with it was to kick you out of the house, after he berated you in front of Joel. You knew Joel wasn't your father, but in this moment your father’s voice and Joel’s voice blurred together in your head.

When you felt your back hit the wall you knew that your running was over. You had to face the man in front of you, whether or not you wanted to.  You instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest, hanging your head low when the sob that you’ve been holding back all day finally broke free from your chest and swallowed you whole.  Your knees buckled and you started to fall to the floor like a ton of bricks sobbing hysterically saying “I can't be homeless again. I can't do this abuse again.”

Joel wasn't trying to scare you, he just wanted to center you and stop you from spiraling out of control. But when he saw your knees buckle he said “shit” and moved fast to catch you. He then wrapped his big arms around you, and pulled you tight to his chest as you let out all of the anxiety and frustration of the last several weeks.

“Come on now little one, don’t cry” he said, calling you a nickname he hasn’t called you for a long time. 

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m sorry” you kept saying, as you let out all of your pent up anxiety.

“No. Come on baby, don’t say that. You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Let's slow your breathing down, yeah? Alright little one, how ‘bout you breathe with me.” He said, speaking softly into your ear. You felt him slowly lower his hand to the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles on your skin, attempting to quiet your tears. You also started to match his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales.  

After listening to him breathe and matching his breathing for a while he slowly lowered his hand to your belly and gently started stroking it.  You then heard Joel whisper in your ear, “I love you baby, no matter what. I need you to know that I’ll never leave you, no matter what. Ok?”

When you didn’t respond he took a step back, bent down and looked you straight in the eyes.  You nodded your head slightly, attempting a weak smile as you finally had calmed yourself down. He stared at you for a moment, assessing your features to see if you truly were done with your panic attack or if you still were in it.  When he realized that you weren’t going into another one, he gently tucked you into his side and whispered “ok mama, how ‘bout we get you home so you can lay down and relax. You've had a tough day honey.” 

After a few silent minutes of gathering your things together, eventually the two of you started to walk for the exit of the changing room.  Before you exited the doorway you said “Joel um- I got something I wanna say.”

Joel stopped and looked down at you, gently nodding his head.  This was it, the moment you were going to say that you were pregnant.  You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You started to panic and overthink things again.  What happens if he’s mad at me and yells at me again? You were silently having an internal tug-o-war with yourself. 

Inside Joel was frustrated with himself that you couldn’t be honest with him. He was silently scolding himself for creating this environment in which you didn’t feel 100% comfortable with talking with him.  Something that he promised himself that he would change, starting right now.  As he stood there and watched you play tug-o-war with your mind, he tried to give you the warm environment of being relaxed, yet his own stomach was churning and twisting itself into knots.

“Joel, uh-”

“Yes darlin’” he said, coaxing you gently to speak.

“I- uh. Shit.” you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t say the words ‘Joel I’m pregnant.’  

Joel could see that you weren't ready, but he wanted to give you the reassurance that you needed. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on your belly, on top of the little bump and said “I know mama, it's scary. You can tell me in your own time when you feel comfortable, yeah? Just know that no matter what, I love you.”

He gently kissed the top of your head, and with a smile he ushered you out towards the front desk.  He sent you out to the car to relax as he squared away the fees for you being sick. When he got back into the car he groaned for a moment at the feeling of his back tightening up again.

“I don’t get how ya women think this is relaxin’.” He said, looking over at the salon as he put the car in reverse. “My back feels like it’s in a million more knots now. Shit.”

With a small smirk you said “Joys of deep tissue massage honey.”

“Yeah well, I feel like I went 20 rounds with that damn massage table. It kicked my ass good and hard too. This relaxin’ stuff is hard work hon.” Joel said, slightly groaning while having another back spasm.

“No, I just think it means that you're an old grumpy man,” you said, nonchalantly. 

Joel was stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green. He glanced over at you, eyes wide at your statement of him being an old grumpy man. “S’not funny babe,” he grumbled.

“Well honey, it's the truth” you whispered, as you softly kissed his cheek. “At least we know this still works” you added, giving him a playful bite to his ear as you gently cupped your husband's crotch. You palmed him for a moment and felt him slowly enlarge at your words. 

“Does that feel good baby?” You asked in a sultry tone, as you slowly stroked your husband's cock through his jeans.

“Ya already know it does,” he said, in a husky voice.

You gave him one more chaste kiss and a firm squeeze before you removed your hand. As you slowly turned your head to look out the window you felt your husband's hand on your thigh. He was rubbing small soothing circles there. It was his way of reassuring you that he cared and was still here for you. You lightly grabbed his hand and placed it firmly against your lower tummy, humming as he began to stroke your little bump there too. You couldn't verbalize it to him yet, but this was your silent way of reassuring him that you were in fact pregnant. 

Joel melted into this touch, the feel of your little bump, of his baby growing inside of you. This small simple measure finally calmed his fears. He knew that you loved him and that he loved you. No matter what he was going to be there for you and help you through this. Even though he was 52, and you were 37, and having an unexpected pregnancy was never ideal. Joel loved you and this little baby more than anything. As he silently rubbed your tummy he thought to himself everything is gonna be alright. And I can't believe that I'm gonna be a dad again ❤️

-End Part 3 Prologue-

A/N: More will come in the future with these two (proper chapters) as we take them through their pregnancy journey together. If you're interested in reading their origin story, make sure to check out the other series titled Love Never Fails coming out January 2024.

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3lazeit @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

[bettsfic]

Hi Betts,

I recently listened to an interview with an author that said “when they decided to get really serious about writing and their dreams they made a ten year plan.” So me being the planner that I am, said maybe I should do it too, especially since this writer is pretty successful. Have I made a decent enough plan? No, because being real about your dreams and committing is scary af.

But I have developed this thinking that each story I have to work on has to be “publishable” and if I can’t immediately envision its success I need to push it away. For some people this is fine. For me, I’m pushing aside every idea and am constantly writing for an invisible audience. Which has its pros and cons.

I want to become efficient so that I can be a good author. One who meets deadlines and puts out work they are proud of. But I’m wondering if it’s even possible to try to work to be an author and still create work that is fun and true to you? If a decision isn’t meaningful I won’t include it in my outline. It feels like the only time writing can be fun is when I was young and had no clue about market and rules and just assumed my dreams would come true.

you know, what i keep finding over and over again is that i was right about a great many things before i had any idea what i was doing. i just didn't know why i was right, i had no context or evidence for my rightness. granted, i was arrogant, but arrogance isn't wrong; it's just uninformed. when you inform arrogance, it becomes confidence. you become informed by getting a lot of feedback on your work and giving feedback on work; having your work accepted once or twice and accepting someone else's work; having your work rejected hundreds of times and being the one to reject. maybe you've done all those things already, in which case you're firmly on your path and there's not much you have to do besides keep going.

i definitely relate to what you're saying, though. i would be lying if i said i wasn't just days ago in a phase of berating myself for my failures and wishing i could work harder and more efficiently. i've cultivated some confidence about my work, but there are some ways in which i'm too arrogant and others in which i'm too humble. i have a long way to go still in informing myself about my work and the process of making it.

you'll be in positions where you have to make creative concessions for the sake of publishing, but don't make them before you get anything on the page. listen to your own ideals and make those ideals happen in your work. a year ago, i finished a novel that was my favorite thing i'd ever made, and i was so proud of it, but i knew it wasn't publishable in the state it was in. even though i'd worked a year on it, it was still an early draft and bore the marks of an early draft, but i couldn't see that because i'd never taken any project further than that one. i'd never felt closer to a project or more intensely toward it. and when i was done, i went through six months grieving it, in a sense, because i knew i'd have to rewrite it. i had to kill the thing that it was in order for it to become what it needed to be. i came to accept that, and the next six months sat on the frustration of not knowing what direction to take it, but having the wisdom to know i couldn't rush it or force it.

and then the fix came to me all at once. the fix involves getting rid of many things that were once dear to me. not even darlings, but entire themes i felt were meaningful, that were the very things i want to share and explore in my work. i don't feel so bad about giving those things up now. what i take out will be put into something else eventually, and what i keep will stand out more starkly. the new parts i write will fit better and serve the story itself, even if it's no longer the story i originally intended to tell.

when you're drafting, your work is in a private conversation with yourself; it's about you even if it isn't. but it can't stay about you. eventually it has to stand on its own. and you might think, well why can't i just write something that stands on its own to begin with? but if you do that, writing is just work, it's business, and it may be more efficient but it's also less meaningful. there's no such thing as efficient creativity. it takes as long as it takes, and if you force yourself on a ten year timeline you might as well focus that energy on something more lucrative and within your control. there's so much about writing that's just chance and discovery and failure and faith.

so i think you should go back to assuming your dreams will come true and not thinking too much about anything except the work itself until you get to the point where you have to. and it will hurt. it may hurt more than anything hurt you've ever put yourself through. but trust you'll get to where you're going, even if it takes longer than you intended.

[fakeboybimbo]

My daddy told me to get fucked hard by five men this weekend in honor of international women's day. Last night I managed to get 4 of the five!

I went out dancing like I do. A guy was there with some friends and I decided to just be forward and say hey I'm really looking to get fucked hard. It was my first time behind some dumpsters near a small parking lot. It was three of them and I barely able to hold myself up I was so weak in my legs. At one point one was fucking me up against this gross brick wall, but holding me up with my legs around him. They all took turns and it was amazing. My pants and panties were off and and they pushed my shirt up over my tits.

So eventually a security guard came over when one of then was taking a second turn and they scattered. I couldn't run around without pants on. He was berating me and I was like if you want you could fuck me too?

He called me a disgusting bitch, but he fished his dick out and I got on my knees and sucked him and told him to please fuck me once he was hard. And the security guard fucked me too! After he came he said he better not catch me out doing this again.

I don't know if it was the fear or not but the security guard was the best fuck of the four. He could have easily fucked me and then kept me with me in even more trouble.

I have hickies all over my tits from those guys. It'll be fun tonight when I'm trying to get at least one guy to fuck me if he sees them he'll know I'm a slut.

Thank you daddy @dangerousrubbersoul for the privilege of getting railed by 4 men last night!

[lost-technology]

So, I felt like visiting the Commonwealth Wasteland (Massachusetts, United States, post thermonuclear war) of Fallout 4 today. I was thinking "Oh, I'll just play for a couple of hours" and it's near dawn now that I've finally got off the console. Whoops. Anyway, something that I wind up doing to myself a lot (that my player character goes through) is ACCIDENTALLY EXPLODING MYSELF with explosive and incendiary devices. Like, I just have to do that thing where I lead big enemies (such as the yao guais - mutant bears) over a trail of land mines I've set or I get beset by a mass of feral ghouls and I lob fragmentation grenades at them... Only to not watch where I'm running and to trip my own land mines or throw my grenade at too close of a range and do massive damage to my health bar, sometimes blowing my legs off and getting a bloody game over. I had the thought while playing: I wonder if Vash has ever done that to himself. Like, wondering if a few of his nastier scars were actually accidentally self-inflicted by doing something incredibly stupid with some frag grenades... But... that's when I remember he's more of a small arms precision fighter in combat (because unlike my Fallout character, he does NOT want to kill his enemies or any creatures that are after him). I'm pretty sure I recall him doing some stuff with explosives before... like lobbing a tied dynamite bouquet that the bounty hunters / bandits and thrown his way into a cliff in the first episode of the '98 anime and giving Luida some interesting lines in the manga about fun with things that go boom. Like... I wonder if that big scar in the left side of his chest that looks barely held together (by a cage in a couple of canons, just a bark-like tear in Stampede, but no less awful-looking) is less from "Oh! The cruelty of humans that Knives berates me about again and again!" and is more like "Okay, this time, I did something REALLY STUPID!"

[eisforeidolon]

Question: What was your funniest favorite episode and your darkest favorite episode?

Jared: Fuckin' great question. First off, welcome. Funniest? Here's something, I think I know my answer to funniest, but I will say, not funniest while shooting. Like, kind of nerve-wracking while shooting. And I would go to two episodes, French Mistake and Changing Channels. And we had a great time during those episodes, like we had a great time filming those episodes? But it was kind of nerve-wracking because you're like, are we ruining this? Are we gonna ruin the show? Is it gonna be alright, are they gonna still watch us? It's like, okay, let's just make it real. I think French Mistake would probably be my number one because the opportunity to make fun of yourself, on camera, that's gonna last forever? It's pretty fuckin' cool. One of the most heartbreaking or heart-wrenching? Man, I forget the name of this episode. There was an episode later on, and I've talked about this before, but - there have been a few times - well, the finale, the series finale was hard. Not all of it, obviously, there was a lot of fun stuff, but that fucking barn scene was heartbreaking for months leading up to it, 'cause we were in the pandemic. There was an episode prior to that where Jensen and I are standing outside the Impala and Sam is berating Dean for something? And I couldn't remember my lines. And that doesn't happen to me. And not that I'm cool or something like that - [audience discussing] - Prophet and Loss. And it was so difficult because, like - and I'm a professional. I know my job, I take it seriously, I prepare and I go to work and I do it. I give it everything I have. But my brain wouldn't let me find - I felt like I had dementia or something - and I don't mean to make light of dementia, I've had family with it who've passed from it. But I just was like, I don't know what I'm saying right now, I can't fucking remember what I'm supposed to do next. And it was so difficult to get through it, and I kinda realized later that it was because Jared didn't like what Sam was saying? And so it was really difficult to learn. I went home and I cried myself to sleep. And I came home - I came to set the next day? And my eyes wouldn't open. 'Cause I went home and I was like, fucked up, I fucked up, I ruined Sam, I ruined Supernatural, like what's wrong with me? Like I know I did my homework, I've prepped for days, weeks, months, whatever, for hours a day. And I just couldn't do it. And I think I realized - and funny enough, to an earlier question? Sacrifice was like that, for me. With the Sam and Dean bit of, like, you know what I asked for forgiveness for in there was letting you down. Like who do you go to next, another vampire? You know? It was so difficult to get out, that - like, there was a disconnect? Like my own body's self preservation mode that I don't know where it exists, like kicked in. Don't say that shit, don't say it. That ain't gonna feel good, you're not gonna like that. So I would say those two sequences in Sacrifice and Prophet and Loss were, in hindsight - at the time I didn't know! You go to work, you're like I know my lines, I can say all the words right now. And then you get in the scene, you're doing it and you're like, why is this so hard? Why am I not rem- I know I did my preparation. So those two would be the most difficult.

Jared: But yeah, French Mistake, and then Changing Channels like, [does the voice] Nutcracker!!! Which was, by the way, terrifying. That was probably my scariest because the machine legitimately - and it was, when we were there, they put you in these, like, ski boots. They have redone ski boots? So you're in and then they lock you in, and the fuckin' ball on the stick was a legit ball on a stick that went like this [mimes ball movement and makes noise]. And so they sat me there and they're like, okay, you see this X mark on the thing? You're like yeah yeah, I see it. And you're locked in, they're like okay, don't let your hips go past that. Like, [incredulous expression] I'm sorry? So if I'm here [mimes moving hips forward], I'm getting hit in the nuts. [moves hips back] If I'm here, I'm okay. And so I was like, I think the first take we did, they're like, okay, we're gonna go ahead and do the stunt. Which I didn't get hit, it just looked like it. But I think I was like, okay, so the X mark? And they're like, yeah. And I was like, okay [pushes hips way back], I'm ready! And they were like, you look really weird right now. And I was like, no, I feel good, I feel good. And so I finally had to go, and I think the first one, as soon as I knew, it was like three, two, one, I was gonna get hit? I go [makes pained face and leans back]. And they're like, Jared, listen, we're hoping not to hit you, we need you to hold a straight face until the machine does that thing. And I was like [high pitched voice] Okay, I got it. So that was probably the most physical danger I felt I was gonna be in.

[meadow-dusk]

thinking a lot about how much time in the past I spent hating myself. judging and punishing and berating myself for not being smart enough, or pretty enough, thin enough, or fun enough, thinking all that meant I wasn't enough. that I didn't deserve to be included or loved. that I didn't even deserve to want to be loved.

thinking a lot about how that is time I can never get back. resentful that I can't teach my past self the lessons I'm trying to learn now. but what a fucking waste of life that was. don't let yourself subsist on self-hatred. sure, you may accomplish things (even great things). you may meet goals, you may keep "improving" yourself, but none of that will EVER satisfy. perfect isn't real. there will always be some deficit you find staring you plainly in the face.

trying now to cultivate love and kindness in every direction, including inwards.

[studentbyday]

my 2024 reading list

(included are only the light reads, stuff i can read to wind down, stuff i can read with little to no context...i feel like i need to make a list of this or i will bog myself down with heavy stuff and never wind down 😂)

(i already started the dictionary of lost words. depending on my mood, i may or may not finish it in 2023.)

(in fact, if at any point it turns out i don't like a book or i'm not in the mood for it right then, i'm not gonna force myself to finish it bc my goal is for reading to be a fun, relaxing activity.)

(also might insert some unplanned reads like if i like before the coffee gets cold, i might wanna read its sequels, or i might wanna read more maisie dobbs, who knows? i'm keeping it flexible...)

ready to talk about the heavy nonfiction? 😬 (this is more like a hopeful list rather than "i will pressure myself to finish it at all costs or berate myself and feel disappointed for not meeting my goals" sort of thing which is a trap i tend to fall into...)

molecular biology: principles and practice (for my mol bio course ending this semester but the readings weren't required bc they contained lots of extra info 🤷🏻‍♀️)

bioinformatics algorithms vol. 1 & 2

music theory remixed

meditations by marcus aurelius (i need to understand the historical context first...)

[frogoru]

so from what i understand, you project onto natalia? or what? sorry kind of a dumb question

basically yeah!! and dw it isn't a dumb question. natalia started out as a vent oc i made a long time ago and now she's kinda like a persona type character to me. i used to struggle with social anxiety kind of badly which led to me being really insecure, so i decided to make a character i could vent all of my feelings through BUT i didn't want to make her resemble me physically because of the "eeee i hate myself!!" mindset so i came up with her design by giving her a bunch of traits i'm attracted to, that way i could have more fun drawing her (drawing a cute girl being sad makes me feel better more compared to just drawing myself being sad).

i used to draw her being sad and confined to her room a lot due to being so very scared of interacting with others but those kind of drawings have gradually decreased because i got better as a person, so i think the same would happen with her in the little story i have for my ocs that's indefinitely restricted to my brain

i project onto her feelings/relationship with her gf a lot too because ya know... same-sex attraction in a society that's berated it for a long time (except forr the two of them it's the demon/angel thing)

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Okay wait now that I'm seriously getting back into writing fanfiction, I'm gonna give you the best piece of fanfic-writing advice I think I can give:

Even if you think it's not your best work, or if you think it's just plain bad, especially if you think it's cringe, post it anyway.

It is a hard lesson to take in. You read other people's works and you compare it to your own. You write and write and write and you still can never get the word choice you think would do your work justice. You worry that the view/like count won't get higher than double digits, if that much. You second guess yourself and even when you really wanna post your work, you don't because you're scared of getting judged.

And it's true, some people are gonna judge you, but the flipside of that is that some people are gonna get so much joy out of what you write.

My fic baby is a 50k xreader fic I wrote when I was 17, and for the most part, I'm really proud of that fanfic because I put a lot of work into it. But Jesus Christ the smut is so bad in it. I wrote that the female reader was on the verge of orgasming, but instead of just saying that, I said she was "caught in vaginal limbo". I thought I was clever. Now that I'm in my 20s, I realize just how fucking cringe that is. I've thought about going back and rewriting that scene dozens of times, but every time I think about doing that, I remind myself of the comments on the chapter. Of course there were people who said things along the lines of "wtf are you writing", but there were also comments of people saying "author vaginal limbo made me laugh so hard I cried" and I remember this: my bad writing made someone smile and that's all that matters.

Most of the fics currently on my AO3 are ones I wrote as a teenager, and a lot of them are not great, but if the fic has just one comment, or one kudos, I tell myself, someone liked it, and I leave it up, unchanged, for them.

And even if your fic is badly written, you may have a great plot idea, and inspire someone else. I've had that happen to me too. The person who came along didn't tell me my fic was bad, but I told myself it was, but they asked me if they could write a fic about the same premise because they loved my prompt idea, and I told them I couldn't wait to see what they made (with credit for the idea ofc), even as I was so paranoid it would be better than mine. And it was better than mine. But honestly it doesn't matter whose was better written. It only matters that we both had fun writing and reading each other's fics, and contributing to that fandom space.

Lastly, I wanna say that this extends past fic writing. It doesn't matter if you're cringe or awkward or weird or clumsy. If you embarrassed yourself by tripping at the mall and spilling your drink, well, the lady sitting across the walkway got a good laugh that afternoon (and she helped me get napkins to clean up, which was nice). If you stutter over your words, someone will find that endearing, even if that someone isn't around now. If you fuck up a presentation at work/school, maybe that reflects poorly on you, but maybe someone in the audience is sitting there thinking "gosh I'm so glad I'm not the only one who gets nervous about presenting."

Yes there's always gonna be people who call you out and berate you for being cringe or annoying or embarrassing. But life isn't any fun if you're always winning. It isn't fulfilling like that. No one is perfect. No one has to be perfect. And by not being perfect and accepting that you are not perfect, you are not only going to live a happier life, but you're also probably going to inspire someone else to live a happier life too.

[blackjackkent]

We do get some more chat with Jaheira and Minsc before sleepz though!

"I think you might have made a terrible, terrible mistake. Chasing rumor halfway around the city and back. Crossing the Guild, wading through filth, defying the one creature upon whom your very life depends. All for a madman and his rodent."

"The Absolute threatens thousands - the entire Coast - and still you risked much to help one man. I should berate you, but... I can only say thank you."

"Your reasons were your own, but whether you meant for it or not, your fight is our fight. Both of us. To the very end."

Aw. <3 Jaheira is so fkn great, and look at the big grin Hector gets when she says she's with him to the end:

He really likes both Jaheira and Minsc a LOT to be honest. Jaheira reminds him a little of some of some of the older monks at the monastery (well, older when he was a young man; he was just starting to become one of those older monks himself when the nautiloid hit); she's wise and experienced and does not wear her heart on her sleeve, but she's also very kind, clearly feels things deeply under the surface, and believes strongly in the work that they are doing. And Minsc is... well, Minsc. I think on some level he reminds Hector of Karlach - intense balls-to-the-wall fighter with tremendous energy and a kind heart - and he would clearly put himself between any of them and danger in a heartbeat.

No matter what Jaheira says... it was worth it to help them both.

Amusingly, one of the dialogue options here is "Hm. None of that was a thank you," but like. It literally was? She literally said the words "thank you" two lines ago. XD

Instead, Hector just teases her gently - as I've noticed he's now done several times; it's not entirely characteristic of him, and speaks to the fact that he feels very comfortable with her and the sort of person that she is.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me, Harper," he says with a slight smile.

She laughs, and to his surprise he does hear a hint of a catch in it, a slight tremble that hints of tears. It is honestly rather touching; all of a sudden there is nothing of the frustration that came out earlier in the conversations, none of the sardonic deprecation or fear for the road ahead. She is tired; they have reached the end of the day and Minsc is safe - for all that he should never have been in danger in the first place, she has been worried for him for so many months... and now it is done, and he is safe. He is not another friend she has had to see into the ground.

"Ah," she says ruefully. "Those misty eyes are just age. Yes, I feel myself growing older as we stand here. So... lead the way. We are yours to command."

The message is clear; whatever tangled cocktail of emotions she is feeling at present, it is none of his business and she does not want to talk about it. He can certainly relate to that. But the understanding is between them, all the same.

-----

"Fine lodgings you have found, my friend! Boo is already in negotiations with the guardian spirits of this place. In Baldur's Gate, they are likely to be rat-formed and eager to charge rent. But Boo shall secure safe slumber for all! Now - what do you need of Minsc?"

I love him, your honor.

I also love the mental image this conjures of Boo sitting up guard and judo-chopping any rats that try to crawl out of the sewers.

"I'd like to know a little more about you."

"There is more than a little to know, I think. I am huge!"

Lots of fun back-and-forth to be had here. Annoyingly it's one of those conversations where I can't ask all the questions at once, so I had to reload a number of times to get everything. I'm not going to write all of it out, but some highlights:

He told Hector about Rashemen, described the "telthors, guardian spirits of every root, rock, and tree. Here in the Sleeping Lands, they are silent, but in the far north, they know how to speak still."

Apparently he went back to Rashemen for a while after BG2 (yay, my fic was unintentionally correct XD ); the "Iron Lord" there told him that his dajemma was done and he should work for the lord, but Minsc disagreed because Dynaheir was dead and he felt his dajemma could never be over. The Iron Lord felt disrespected, challenged him to a fight, and lost (obviously), at which point the Council of Witches told him he should probably get out of Dodge.

He did mention Aerie too! Hector commented that he seemed to toss the Wychlaran title around pretty freely between Dynaheir and Jaheira, and he answered: "You suggest that Minsc uses the term lightly? Simply leaps from Dynaheir to Jaheira, with no caring for the custom itself? An unworthy thought - and WRONG! In between there was also Aerie, my second witch. She needed a protector, and Boo suggested that it might as well be Minsc. And when she went her own way, Minsc and Boo set to thinking - there is power in the wychlaran bond. Far too much to be wasted on weeping. To use that power to serve the living does not sully the dead - it honors them." The way this is phrased seems like it could be read to imply that Aerie is also dead, but she is definitely not. However, it does concur with the assumption I made in the previous post, that Aerie basically was doing her own thing with Caden and no longer needed a protector and set Minsc free, more or less.

Hector pointed out, very carefully, that when Minsc described why Jaheira should be his new witch, he seemed to be just describing... friendship. Minsc thought over that for a minute... "Hm. So. Duty, camaraderie, help in troubled times - what I call the bond of a wychlaran, you simply call... friendship? I think I understand your meaning. Then Jaheira is my wychlaran. And so are you! You are my wychlaran! And Wyll is my wychlaran. And Astarion is my wychlaran! And Gale is my wychlaran! And Shadowheart is my wychlaran! And Halsin is my wychlaran! And Karlach is my wychlaran-- or, no, Karlach is a berserker, so... perhaps Minsc is *her* wychlaran? My thanks to you, wychlaran. You have given me much to think on - and should some enemy blow knock it loose again, Boo shall remind me." LOL. Minsc is not a subtle man but I honestly think he's fucking with Hector just a smidge here. (Or at least, to be honest, I hope he is; Minsc knows what a friend is, and his relationships with Dynaheir and Aerie are significant to him on a different level. The BG3 writers are doing fantastic with Minsc for the most part but this line, while funny, doesn't really play well for me exactly.) That said, I think Hector has a point that Minsc latching onto Jaheira specifically this way is him taking her friendship and trying to make it into this other important thing that he is missing, because he doesn't know how to handle being without a witch entirely. (Probably also a BIT of coping mechanism for having been teleported forward in time a hundred years, even though he doesn't actively claim he's bothered by it.)

Hector asked if Minsc knew anything about what deal Roah was striking with the false Jaheira and the Stone Loard; Minsc had no clue, unsurprisingly. Boo then piped up with quite a lot of agitated squeaking, which Minsc interpreted to mean that Boo thought he should open his mind up via the tadpole so that Hector could view his memories and perhaps understand elements that Minsc didn't. Minsc was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, though, and Hector isn't keen to use the worm more than strictly necessary, so he just told Minsc they'd find another way.

Hector asked about Boo and Minsc told Boo to explain himself. Boo squeaked. "Clear enough?" asked Minsc. XD Hector asked a little further and Minsc told roughly the story I was already aware of; he received a head wound from bandits and Boo showed up as he recovered. It is neither clear nor, I think, meant to be whether or not Minsc actually understands him. (Though I'm curious to see whether we are able to Speak With Animals with Boo on my druid playthrough. XD )

He talked a little about his experience getting turned into a statue. (Hector mentioned that Jaheira had told him about it; not sure if I missed a dialogue somewhere or that was supposed to have happened off-screen). He doesn't seem to know much about why it happened; just that he was ambushed while doing "cleanup" work in the city's underbelly and then woke up in the Wide a hundred years later when someone cleared the petrification.

And finally, some longer bits actually worth writing out -

Caden references! He cheerfully told Hector about fighting alongside "the Bhaalspawn" ("Gorion's Ward," etc... he has a NAME, Minsc! XD ) and fighting off evil. Hector, whose only exposure to a Bhaalist is Orin, was kind of skeptical: "How did you come to trust the spawn of such an evil god?" Kind of fun to see how the dialogue dances around making any specific assertions about the past game player character. In this case, Minsc goes off on a tangent: "A curious question. Are a child and his father always alike? Take Minsc! He does not have a clear memory of the face of his father, but he does remember tugging on the thick, red whiskers that sprang from his chin. A beard for the ages! Boo could have nestled there happily through even the harshest of Rashemen winters. Now - look closely at Minsc, and what do you see?" Hector, patiently, grinning in spite of himself: "You don't have a beard." "Correct! There are more whiskers on Boo's tiny face than on the mighty chin of Minsc! If Minsc did not inherit the flaming red hair of his mother, or the bushy red beard of his father, why would the spawn of Bhaal inherit his wickedness." Hector looks kind of impressed. "That's... surprisingly insightful." Minsc grins brightly. "I have many more thoughts about beards to share! I did not know you cared to hear them!"

-----

"I'd like to know your thoughts on our companions."

"You hear that, Boo? Your keen skills of observation have not gone unnoticed! Our friend wishes to consult your wisdom."

Hector blinks a few times rapidly but rolls with it. (Yet again he is quite like Caden in some ways. XD ) "Yes, Boo, I'd love to hear your opinions."

"So small is Boo that he is often mistaken for a pinecone, and many secrets are spoken in h is hearing! He will tell what he knows - but Minsc of course will translate."

Astarion first: "Oh, the pale scoundrel has his charms, it cannot be denied. But my friend, it gives me no pleasure to tell you - Astarion is not what he claims to be. Just last night, Minsc was dressing one of his many heroic wounds in camp when Astarion stumbled upon the scene. I tell you, he grew pale as death itself. He licked his lips and trembled so violently that Minsc thought he might faint on the spot! The truth is painful but undeniable. Astarion... is a coward. How can he fight the battles to come when he grows soft at the first sight of blood?"

[LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "...Just one moment." [MORE SQUEAKING] "You are sure? And you could not have told me this before?" [SQUEAKING] "...Minsc may be mistaken. Boo presents compelling evidence that Astarion may in fact be a vampire."

Hector finds himself once again fighting the urge to grin; this seems to be his default state when dealing with Minsc. "I know. But don't worry, he largely gets by on rats."

"Minsc has met many vampires and never one whose smile did not hide treacherous teeth. But... as you say. It is good that we do not have any friends who could ever be mistaken for a rat, eh Boo? If the sun can bear to look upon Astarion's monstrous face, then so can Minsc and Boo! For now, at least."

(Wonder if he is thinking about Hexxat and their battle with her in the crypts of Athkatla, so many years ago...)

Wyll next: "Ah, the great Blade of Frontiers! A fine name. Minsc has no idea what it means, but it suits young Wyll's air of mystery well. It is good to know the city did not go unprotected while I wore pigeon droppings on the Wide. Jaheira did her part, of course, but she prefers to scowl from the shadows. The city needs a name. A face! Preferably a furry companion, too!" [LOUD SQUEAK FROM BOO]

"He has a companion, all right," Hector says dryly. "Her name is Mizora."

"Mizora. This is... some manner of exotic bird?"

"Close. A cambion, bound to him by an infernal pact."

"What? Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers of whom I heard, is no man to deal with devils!" [SQUEAKING] "Ahhh, Boo speaks sense as ever. There is goodness in Wyll; we have seen it! If there be a devil on his shoulder, then Minsc and Boo will sit astride the other! He will not be long in coming back to himself, I think."

Gale: "I do not wish to speak of the wizard." [SQUEAK] "I could not have said it better myself."

"Gale's great - what's your problem with him?"

"He came to me one night with a little book of mischief, full of words and their meanings. 'Posterior,' he says. 'Can you say posterior?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards!"

Hector, swallowing yet another smile: "Posterior isn't wizard-talk. It's another word for butt."

"It is an inferior word! Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a butt belongs! Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Ah - yes, Gale also owns a cat! A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo!"

"You should give him a break - he's only trying to help."

"Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding!"

And finally, Halsin: "Who is Halsin?"

"The elven druid."

"Oh, the tiny puny elf with leaves in his hair and dirt under his fingernails. His name is Halitosin? How very unfortunate."

"Halsin," says Hector patiently.

"That is what I said."

"You're both giant hulking do-gooders; I thought you'd get along."

"Pah. Minsc saw the druid chasing himself in circles and sniffing his own butt last night! He has spent too long as a wolf and not enough as a man." [LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "NO, BOO! THE DRUID DID NOT BEAT MINSC AT THE ARM-WRESTLING! IT WAS NOT A FAIR MATCH, AND HE TURNED INTO AN OWLBEAR HALFWAY THROUGH, AND THERE WAS GREASE ON THE TREE STUMP!"

XD

-----

"When our minds mingled, I saw some... strange things."

"Oh? The mind of Minsc is a simple place. Of what strangeness do you speak?"

Narrator: The memories resurface, a lifetime of battles blurring into one. The single constant is Minsc, launching into the fray no matter the foe - be they god, monster, or man. It seems just the barest glimpse of what the man before you has ssen and done, but enough to know that he has no right to still be alive."

"Ah! Wait! That look in your eyes - I know exactly what visions of Minsc you have seen, to cause you such wonder..."

"My pants! Thrice-laced in the Rashemaar style, so that a berserker might split skulls without fear of splitting britches too. They *are* fiendishly complex, but fear not for Minsc! With training, he has learned to master the many little knots."

"Never mind your pants," Hector says firmly. "You've walked between planes, fought gods!"

"Well, as have you, no? Do not forget that when you gaze into Minsc, Minsc also gazes into you! We both fight evil, wherever it is found. The who and where are less important than the hamsters you meet along the way. On this matter of sharing memories - I see no reason for us to worry at one another's worms. If there is more we wish to know, we can simply... ask, no?"

Hector is very okay with this; he does not want to use the tadpole at all if he can help it. "Of course. A warrior speaks their mind, instead of reading others."

"Exactly so! If I must peer into the mind of my enemy, I use an axe. For friends, there is ale. No, my friend. If you fear you have a question that Minsc cannot answer, then you can simply ask Boo!"

I repeat: I love him, your honor.

[richmond-rex]

I was tagged by super talented @eve-to-adam! Thank you <3

How many works do you have on AO3? I've got 19 fics currently on ao3 (but I always think about deleting some of them so that number may go down).

What fandoms do you write for? Currently I only write historical RPF, but I've got two Still Star-Crossed stories on my profile as it stands. It was very fun to write them but the show wasn't renewed and eventually my passion ran out.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Draw Your SwordsBlooming (modern AU) We Sang of Roses (modern AU) A Royal BedJoy on Earth

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Though not always successful (I'm kind of a forgetful person, sorry!) I try to respond to comments because I like to acknowledge the person's effort in commenting. It's very easy to simply read and leave a like/kudos, but leaving a comment sometimes after you're still processing a story or when you're naturally very shy takes a bit more from you. So I like to acknowledge that.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably To love God is to love a sinner, but some stories have ambiguous endings such as The Relentless Weight and more recently, The Hour of the Wolf.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably my no-plot-only-fluff fic, White Christmas

Do you get hate on fics? Not frequently, thankfully, though that's probably because the readership I get is so small. I did once get a comment saying my story was too cheesy, and another one once berating me for describing Elizabeth of York as 'blonde' (a herald who witnessed her coronation described her hair as 'light yellow'; so please don’t tell me I’m wrong ♥)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do (though not frequently), which is considered controversial because I write about real (albeit historical) people. Sex is part of the human experience and it can tell us a lot about the characters and the relationships, so I try to feel less guilty about it. I also like to take smut as an exercising in writing: to test how far I can get in evoking a sensation without getting into more explicit territory is always a challenge.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? In terms of different fandoms? I don't remember ever doing that. I have mixed different eras, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not a fic per se, but once I did share an AU with @harritudur and another friend. It was very fun :D

What’s your all-time favourite ship? I do love to explore the relationship between Henry VII and Elizabeth because it was so unlikely to have happened in the first place, let alone succeed. I find it very touching! I do have other ships, though.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? It's not a WIP that I have posted anywhere but I did start writing a oneshot that I wanted to dedicate to a friend about the relationship between Edward IV and George of Clarence! It did feature a few unexpected people too.

What are your writing strengths? Probably dialogue and themes. It's difficult to say, I pick my writing apart so much when I'm in the process of writing it, once I publish it's very hard for me to go back and confront myself. It all kind of turns into nebulous territory.

What are your writing weaknesses? Many, many things but scene transitions are probably at the top of the list! That's why my story chapters usually all take place in a single scene.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a bilingual person I find it important to portray this completely unique experience of mixing two languages as they come (if the character in question is multilingual). It's not a popular view, though I do think people should get more comfortable with not understanding word-by-word everything that ever comes across the page. The strangeness of being confronted with a language that you do not know is a part of a different kind of experience and it can only enrich your reading. Of course, all should be within reasonable limits: information that is essential to the overall story should be in the language the story is set in.

First fandom you wrote for? I think it was Star Wars but I can't remember if I actually published it anywhere. I was very very young lol

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Blooming has a very dear place in my heart, it was the first fic I actually felt like accomplishing myself in terms of achieving the characterisation I wanted for my characters and creating a narrative that made sense for their development.

I think most people have been tagged already, but I'm tagging @harritudur, @heartofstanding and anyone else who feels like joining in the fun! x

[angelamontoo]

Wait I wanna hear about ur Mortimer Brewster hate.

I never cared for him personally but I wanna hear ur reason, if you don't mind.

Oh I probably shouldnt have called myself a hater, that's a bit too strong and negative a word for how I feel about Mortimer. Tbh with how unsympathetic and just plain boring a lot of leading men(aswell as other characters who we, the audience, are expected to have some automatic, unearned liking for)are in a lot of these old films, I can't truly hate Mortimer just cause hes at least consistently genuinely funny and interesting to watch.

Still, Mortimer has a lot of pretty unlikeable characteristics that it took multiple rewatches of the film for me to really notice, or at least think about fully. It's definitely partially my opinion being influenced by other AAOL fans who's post about why they hate Mort got me thinking more about just what a massive douche he is in the film, but plenty of it is stuff I kinda noticed myself and then focused on more with every rewatch while I was waiting for Einstein to appear.

The most obvious shitty trait about Mortimer is ofc the way he treats Elaine, ignoring her, berating her, stringing her along and being a condescending dickweed, all because of his own internal conflicts and as a Lorre fan, I'm obligated to be somewhat offended by how needlessly mean he is to Herman, but what really bothers me personally is the way he treats his aunts and especially Teddy. He talks down to his aunts like they're little kids instead of the people who raised him, essentially his mothers and has 0 gratitude for everything they've done for him despite Abby and Martha treating him like their golden child, being thrilled to cart them off to happydale with Teddy. Speaking of, the utter lack of empathy Mortimer has for his own brother, who has never done anything more harmful to anyone else than blow a bugle too loud, is vile. He has no moral qualms letting Teddy potentially take the fall for murder when he's never shown signs of violence before just because "everyone already knows he's crazy" and Mortimer was always planning to shove Teddy into a nuthouse when his aunts croaked anyway so it's no skin off his nose.

Also, while I'm happy that Herman makes it out of the film unscathed, the fact that Mortimer let's someone who he knows was at least an accomplice to multiple murders walk free just because he helps Mort unload his inconvenient relatives into somebody else's care, is proof that Mortimers eagerness to be rid of his family has nothing to do with him being worried that they'll hurt more innocent people. For all Mortimer knows, Herman's every bit as dangerous as Jonathan.

So yeah if I was gonna make a tiere list for leading men in Lorre films(not including the few where Pete fills that role ofc) Mort would probably rank relatively high for being fun to watch and having some sympathetic moments, but that is not saying much

Also thanks for this ask. My blogs mainly about pete characters ofc, but I like having an excuse to talk about some other characters I'm interested in from his films

[simstryingtheirbestok]

(mainly text) Reviewing the prior four generations of the planetary legacy

I've been thinking about the things I'm glad happened, and the things I'd do differently, now that I'm over halfway through my planned eight generations. I know this won't interest everyone (it may only interest me, come to think of it) (yeah you know what, this is the definition of self-indulgence) so--below.

Generation Saturn

I would have made this a lot less story-ish if I had it to do over, mainly because it was shit as a story. But I was coming from Wordpress where, up until the last 4-5 years when everyone began to drift away, at least, there really was something of a TS3 community, where people interacted a lot with each other's posts, and the focus was more text than screenshots. It wasn't perfect--I must stress that--but it was entirely free of some of the things that make Tumblr so obnoxious. If there was drama, I remained oblivious to it.

To go from that, to the near-zero feedback I got on Tumblr initially, was like being plunged into an ice bath. The only reasons I kept going at all back then were @happy-lemon and @autonomousllama, who were kind to me, made me laugh, and liked some of the posts I did.

I did get discouraged and rush through the latter half of this generation, because I also learned that I am not a fan of Into the Future. It's fine--not everything is for everybody. At least I finally played it and found that out for myself.

Generation Uranus

The big mistake here was rushing Yuri into marriage when his first love didn't work out. Sims will marry anyone you tell them to, but it doesn't mean they'll have a happy union. And I did want to finally try out Midnight Hollow, sure; but why I thought it would be a good idea to move the pink-haired elfin lady from Dragon Valley there is a mystery.

I should never have given Enya a fairy potion to drink, either. It was cute for 5 minutes and then it was, why's the teenager up at 2 a.m.? Oh, because her room has the only audio equipment and Enya has 24/7 dance fever now.

Otherwise, I have to be honest: This was the most fun generation to play after Velma's. I love World Adventures and I got a kick out of Yuri, even when he was being a dipshit. Maybe especially then.

Generation Neptune

I mean, we know, right? The heir should have been Wendalyn. But it wasn't 100% my fault--the 64-bit version of the game being broken with respect to water, that was going to make this generation boring no matter who the heir was. If you cannot dive/swim/snorkel/perform any directed action in the ocean, you're left with fishing. 😴😴😴

I did at least get Velma out of it. It's funny--some Sims you know right away are going to be the heir. I knew it'd be Velma when she was a toddler. I loved Vivienne, too, but she was destined for a supporting role, and she turned out to be perfect for it.

Generation Mercury

My massive regret here is, I never and I mean never, ever, ever should have moved Velma out of Elmira City. She was happy as hell there and the saves weren't even getting glitchy; I just thought Aurora Skies would be ✨more wholesome for children✨ and wanted to bring up the next generation there.

It was such a mistake and it wrecked my enthusiasm completely. Putting Velma in Aurora Skies was like putting Enya in Midnight Hollow, like, why do I do this stupid shit? "Oh, the contrast will be so--" boring, self! It will be boring.

It also broke some of the Sims I took along for the ride. Neither Marco nor Ian had a mean bone in their bodies in Elmira City, but suddenly in Aurora Skies all either of them ever did was Berate Ignorance. (Neither of them was a genius or irresistible, either, though that was probably obvious already.)

Finally, I will never know if perhaps Devon would've been less into Vivienne had I left him in Elmira City, where he had not yet met her, and possibly never would have. Sparks were not flying between him and Velma, though, and that was true even in Elmira City. And I was furious, because generally, sparks flew between everyone and Velma.

Another regret: sending Undine to boarding school as a child. That stupid Aurora Skies house had a backyard I filled with every bit of playground equipment I could possibly pack into it, and then none of it ever got used except, I think Velma and Devon did woohoo in the tree house once, or... I'm pretty sure Velma banged somebody there, anyway. 🤭 It would have been so unlike her not to.

[comshipbracket]

It's very possible that person may have deleted out of anxiety rather than out of refusal to gender you correctly. I know i've deleted posts for similar things ‐ i experience rsd, and the feeling that i've done wrong overwhelms me & the only way to amend it is to delete because when i feel i've said something wrong i spiral into feeling i can't ever say anything right, so correcting wouldn't be good enough because it'd still be words coming from me, and any words coming from me are /wrong/. Before you say that's ridiculous, it's genuinely something that can't be helped.

I can't speak for the poster, of course, but the way you're policing their posts makes me feel this is an unsafe space for people who are neurodivergent, especially people who experience rsd (asking not to be misgendered is so fair, and i'm genuinely sorry that that happened, but posting to tell someone they're wrong for deleting a post??? wtf? the misgendering isn't there anymore! that in and of itself is a correction!! you may be berating someone who's genuinely struggling over NOTHING)

I don't find that ridiculous to explain - in fact, thank you for bringing it up - I get similar spirals (I'm neurodivergent and experience rsd myself, but I choose not to discuss it on blogs most days).

The reason I reblogged to bring it up is because I've seen many antis go back on what they hold true for comshippers and individuals who hold proship values - many who claim to be against racism will berate Asian individuals, many who claim to be against transphobia and intersexism will refuse to gender comshippers and those who hold proship values correctly (or even intentionally misgender!), and several who claim to be against ableism will use "get therapy" as a catchall for "become normal" and throw ableist terms at those they disagree with.

I want to state you're absolutely not wrong for bringing this up, in a lot of cases I would have a good faith interpretation! However, in this one case, I'm struggling to find that given past experience and previous posts. Though I can see why that wouldn't be known given I didn't give any usernames out. I don't mind whether people are kind, want to view this positively, or wish to drag my name through the mud, or ruin my entire reputation, as long as I'm not degendered while they do so.

I will try to be more mindful in the future, though! It's important I'm not making this blog an uncomfortable space for those who aren't out to do harm, it's meant to just be a fun competition, I should keep it to that. You're right that from an outside perspective it looks pretty worrying, I should've been clearer about the situation and concerns here.

- Mod Satou