#there's a lot of other friends i've made here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if

i had a falling out with this friend of mine, who is also a tumblr user. there have been a lot of reasons for that, and one of the many-many reasons were her political views, that are generally considered questionable by people around here. people usually wanna know if the person they're interacting with is that type of a person. disclaimer: she's not like. A Bigot. or something. it's just that a lot of people are uncomfortable interacting with someone who holds those views.

she's like, not exactly open about them but reblogs a ton from people who are and made a couple posts that make them obvious.

however, she likes interacting with all kinds of people despite their DNIs and stuff, because she thinks there's no harm as long as they don't know, even if it's all on her blog.

now, to the aita part. we don't follow each other anymore but tumblr recommends her posts to me a lot, perhaps because we used to be mutuals/i have some of her posts liked and i cba to go through all my likes to unlike them. no, i don't wanna block her because i don't block people. as a matter of principle. i tried filtering her username out but i end up always clicking on the post anyway. i'm one nosy bitch, what can i say?

sometimes, she posts about my hyperfixation. something that is very dear and important to me. i don't know the reason why she's doing it because she knows nothing about it and doesn't care about it, but sometimes she makes throwaway comments "based on what she heard" (so, based on what I told her while we were still friends).

and for every time she does so that i end up seeing (happened like 5ish times now), i send one of her mutuals who would be uncomfortable interacting with her had they known about her views an anonymous ask about it. i don't leak anything personal that she'd told me or anything of the sort, i just link the accounts of people she reblogs from and some of her posts on the topic like "hey, take a look at that". each time, it results in the person blocking her and thanking me for telling them in a separate post.

on one hand, i'm technically doing the right thing, since these people hate interacting with people like her, and they just didn't browse her blog enough to know that that's the kind of person she is, even though it's all open source. they're grateful i told them, too.

on the other, i'm doing it for incredibly childish and selfish reasons. had i not seen her bring my hyperfixation up, i wouldn't have done that because i'm not mother theresa like that. but for that reason, it brings me immense satisfaction to do so. especially when she posts stuff like "omg, (name) blocked me... why" and has no clue why. in my mind, it's punishment for touching something that i consider My Thing. i kind of want her to someday understand what's going on, even if it's stupid and territorial of me. like that's what's gonna continue happening if you continue touching My Thing, not giving it the respect it deserves at that too. as i've said, she only regurgitates the stuff i told her because she doesn't care about it. i have a suspicion she's only doing it to piss me off in case i still visit her blog. no idea but it does piss me off. and doing what i described really calms me down.

so, aita?

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[zoeyuniverse]

American pie [2/2]

Category : Caitlin C × !momreader

Summary : You and Caitlin have known each other since childhood, you love each other more than friends but the situation pushes you to live in hiding. While Caitlin suffers from this situation and lets you know it, an event changes everything.

⚠️go to the masterlist if you haven't read the first part

Today

It's been exactly 4 months.

4 months since Caitlin told you how she felt about the situation.

4 months since you last talked to her.

And yet, the very next day, she sent you a message in the evening, asking you if you were upset and if that was why you hadn't gone to see her play.

It was her last day at the tournament, and she'd missed her girl's reassuring look in the stands.

She'd started to blame herself, not for saying what she felt, but for waiting. Because in the end, she'd expressed herself to you with a lot of anger and a lot of blame. Yet she knew that you were doing your best and that you loved her more than anyone else on earth.

But you didn't answer her messages that night or the next few days.

She tried to call you several times, came in the evening after your classes, but never found you there.

When she came to your house, it was your father, whom she had known as long as you, who asked her to leave, insisting that you didn't want to see her and that she had no business being here.

Despite her willingness to make excuses for you, Caitlin suddenly felt rejected. You couldn't ignore her just because she had decided to show you the negative side of your relationship. So she stopped sending you messages and stopped coming to see you.

The following months were the worst of her life. For the first time in sixteen years, you didn't share her daily life. No evenings just the two of you, no post-game massages, no movies that Caitlin always fell asleep to, no impromptu cooking sessions. Her bed seemed way too big and her apartment way too empty.

Yet you're everywhere: in picture frames, in subway tickets reminding her of your disastrous dates, in your glowing toothbrush on the edge of the sink (Caitlin always made fun of your toothbrush, but you like useless things like that), in her Spotify playlist, and even in her clothes.

She started to get really depressed, not knowing how to deal with the flood of emotions that suddenly washed over her. Some days she was hungry and ate a lot, as if to suppress her feelings, and other days she didn't even have the strength to get out of bed.

It was palpable on the court, and despite a few attempts at communication from her coach and teammates, Caitlin never wanted to talk about it, staying closed in her corners and easily accepting the decision to play her less.

Nothing mattered if you weren't there to see her do it and cheer her on.

And if it wasn't easy for her, it wasn't easy for you either.

You didn't ignore Caitlin all this time out of the goodness of your heart, but out of necessity.

After what happened, you needed to be alone, to collect yourself, to calm down. You needed time to accept and adjust to your new life.

Still, you miss your girlfriend (well, if she's still your girlfriend?). She's the pillar of your life, the one who listens to you, comforts you, finds solutions for everything, and gives you a smile.

But you know you've made a mistake this time. You've hurt her and you feel terrible. You know you're unforgivable, and anyway, you can't think of a good way to explain what's happening to you.

- You've found more than love in Caitlin, you've found a best friend. I've been there for you, but now you need her.

Your mother told you this during one of your many crying sessions.

Of course, in the light of events, your "boyfriend" had finally confessed the deception to your parents.

They both remained silent on the subject, then your father became very angry when Caitlin tried to come and see you.

Finally, your mother spoke. She explained that she didn't understand how two women could be attracted to each other, but that the idea of you being unhappy with a man just to please him broke her heart, and that in the end Caitlin was a nice girl and what happened between you was none of her business.

So it was she who encouraged you to get back in touch with her, sensing that even though she was your mother, she didn't always have the right words to help you.

Your message was "viewed" for two hours before you received a reply.

You knew you deserved her coldness, but you couldn't help but feel bad and hopeless.

If she were in front of you, you would probably be on your knees begging her to please listen to you. You can't lose her, not now, but you don't know what to say anymore and the words come on their own, in the hope that they will convince her.

Her answer was not what you expected, but deep down you knew you deserved no better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You thanked your mom for helping you get organized so you'd be free at 5.

You dressed quickly, trying to make an effort, but not wanting to give the impression that you were taking this appointment for granted. You were afraid that Caitlin would think you weren't taking things seriously if you ever got too confident.

So you waited for long minutes, sitting at the table closest to the entrance, staring at the front door, which only made your heart beat faster in your chest.

You and Caitlin are in your favorite place where you spent your childhood and teenage years. You call it "The Cowboy" because of the decor and the giant Lucky Luke statue in the entrance. The Cowboy is a sort of bar and restaurant with a children's play area and a vintage jukebox that plays only one song on a loop: Don McLean's "American Pie," your favorite with Caitlin.

Finally, the tall brunette walked through the door. Her gym bag at arm's length and her towel around her neck. She looked for you as if suddenly lost, then made her way to your table.

She looked at you coldly, then sat down.

You just noticed the gaze of two young girls to your right, who weren't shy about devouring Caitlin's torso with their eyes, clad only in a sports bra.

And just as you were about to ignore this, judging that you were in no position to show your jealousy, Caitlin slipped on a sweater, knowing full well how you felt about the situation. And seeing that she wasn't lacking for a little attention on your behalf calmed you down a bit.

- Hi.

- Hi, do you want something? You suggest.

- That you tell me what you want to tell me she said curtly.

You were trying to lighten the mood, to reassure yourself about your relationship with Caitlin, but mostly to put off the moment when you were supposed to tell her. Because the truth was, you didn't know how to break this kind of news to her, since you had trouble understanding and accepting it yourself.

- Are you going to marry him? Are you going to move to the Maldives?

- What are you talking about? What are you saying, Caitlin?

- What am I saying? I should be asking you this question. You've got me running around in circles. Do you know how worried I've been? I've been imagining the worst scenarios! That you were seriously ill, dead...then I had to realize that it was something else, so I started imagining that you were going off with him, that it was over, I dreamt of you making love. I threw up Y/N. But I can't get over it, you never leave my thoughts, even on the field. So now, despite all the anger I feel for you, I want you to tell me what's going on!

- I'm sorry, Caity.

You apologize, looking up at her with tears in your eyes. You blame yourself tremendously, knowing that she's suffering so much is unbearable for you.

- But sorry for what the hell?

She stands and stares into your eyes. She burns with rage and takes it upon herself not to let her words overtake her thoughts.

- He's three months...

you said, lowering your eyes and letting yourself burst into tears.

She fell back in her chair and stared at you with her eyes wide open. Her heart racing, she refused to understand.

- What? Who?

- When Edward realized that we were more than just friends, he told me that if we had sex once in a while, he wouldn't tell my parents. This went on for a few months and stopped when he met a girl. At that point, I had to promise not to talk about his relationship with this girl and to continue to show my face in public with him if I didn't want him to say anything.

- But... no, no, no, you're talking nonsense! I would have seen if you were pregnant!

- I was in denial, Caitlin, the night of our fight, what I thought were stomach pains were actually contractions. I thought I was going to die. The night you left, I gave birth on the carpet in my room.

- It was our dream," she said weakly, completely shaken by the news.

- I was afraid of losing you, I thought I was doing the right thing. I went too far, I know. I was terrified, unable to touch the baby, then when they put him in my arms... I don't know, I wanted to try, I felt capable.

- No, no, it's not possible...she whispers.

- I'm sorry, Caity, I'm so sorry.

- And him? What did he say?

- His parents wanted the baby back, I refused, we haven't heard from him since...

- I don't know what to say...I'm so hurt...so confused....I feel sorry for you, but I'm so angry that you left me out, I could have protected you....

- I don't want to lose you, Caitlin.

- I need some air, let me go, let me think...

She hurried out of the restaurant, looking completely disturbed.

You watched her outside the transparent storefront as she cradled her head in her hands, paced back and forth, and finally walked to her car.

You didn't hear from her that day, despite the message you sent, and you haven't heard from her in the days since.

This hurts you tremendously; you feel responsible and monstrous. Seeing her like that literally tore your heart out. But the truth is, you didn't really have time to think about it. Your days were now filled with cries, bottles, naps, diapers... not to mention appointments with the pediatrician or the nurse who came to give you advice.

Despite all the sadness and guilt, you had to keep a straight face for him. For this baby who didn't ask for anything. You ruined everything with the love of your life, so you couldn't afford to ruin everything with him.

And yet, just as hope was fading, you received a message:

This unexpected news had just given you hope that all was not lost. A little salve to the heart did you good, and you even noticed that feeling a little better and believing again seemed to have an effect on your baby, as his crying spells diminished inexorably.

The next day, you went to the local Merch store to buy a baby-sized supporter's jersey and a pair of earplugs to protect his ears from the noise.

That evening, snuggled up to you in the baby carrier, he attended his first basketball game. While you and Caitlin rediscovered your chemistry. That night, as she sought your gaze for the first time in a long time, she found it and felt that wave of comfort and courage again. A sense of absolute invincibility.

That night, Caitlin and her team won the game hands down, and as the girls celebrated their victory in the middle of the court and the opponents began to leave the room, Caitlin approached you:

- Hello, little boy.

She hugs him, trembling. The two of them look at each other with stars in their eyes, as if surprised by each other's presence.

- His name is Donald, like our favorite music...

Donald awkwardly touches Caitlin's face with his chubby hands as she starts humming softly, tears rolling down her cheeks...

- Looks like I'm going to get a new jersey to sign...

Bye, bye Miss American Pie....🎶

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

sorry for the wait, I'm taking important exams at the moment!

So...did you like it? I'm seriously thinking about writing "extras" to this fiction, like little cute moments of life for Caitlin and you after these events, what do you think?

[outlanderskin]

All I saw was normal friend behavior at a concert. She arrived at the show and he was already there, so she went there to greet him, it's a matter of social etiquette.

Anon, I'm laughing at this part of social etiquette🤣🤣🤣, I've seen a lot of excuses made up by your side of the fandom and yet you guys are always surprising me with new absurdities. First, you are misinformed. You don't need to be from the FBI to know that they went to the concert together with the rest of the cast, so they arrived together. She wasn't greeting him because she just arrived, in fact she wasn't greeting him. From what we saw, the two spent the entire concert glued together, behind the rest of the cast. Even knowing that there were many people and cameras there, it remained a safe circle. I don't know if you're in a relationship, dear, but the only person who, when I'm at a party or a show with him and I need to leave his side, who I hug and kiss when I come back is my husband. It's an automatic reaction when we're in a fun, relaxed place. Sometimes I think that this unconscious behavior in places with a lot of people is our way of saying "there are a lot of people here, but you are my person". A literal way of showing connection. She hugs other people in another video, after she hugs him but she hugged him first. And the reaction of others to them speaks for itself. No matter how you try to justify it, there is no plausible justification. They weren't there taking care of defenseless children and so they needed to stand back and watch, everyone else was together and mixed in several videos that we saw but the two were together all the time. It's not a question of social etiquette, dear... if you want to understand what you saw, I think this excerpt from a song by Taylor Swift herself might help you: “Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors / And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other / And the voices that implore, “You should be doing more” / To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it”– “Sweet Nothing,” Midnight)

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello. I was wondering if you could offer some advice for me even though it's a common topic :) I used to write all the time and had a huge flow of ideas that kept overlapping each other which made me super creative both in writing and in drawing. But for the past few years (vaguely stopped at the beginning of 2020) I've had no desire to write at all. A cynical part of me has convinced me that it won’t matter to even begin as I don’t finish and barely write the stories and so I don't achieve the satisfaction of deeper immersion into my stories. I know I’m not a bad writer but that my writing suffers when I have no passion.

Previously I would brainstorm/rant with my friend (vice-versa) who was also a writer but we've drifted apart since (and my other friend has no mental energy for writing anymore because of life). I find it very difficult to keep and maintain any growing passion when I'm alone and unable to share with like-minded people - my passion/motivation seems to die when I can't share it. So how do I regain and maintain it? (Obvious answer is to find someone to share ideas with but... how...? And how do I learn to motivate myself when I'm alone?)

It might be a common topic, but each individual situation is still unique. You're going through a lot, anon, and I'm glad you reached out to get some support 💗

Let's start by looking at the factors you've identified that make it difficult for you to write:

Possible burnout - 2020 makes me think of Covid, stress, uncertainty, constant change, perhaps other factors that are more specific to you as an individual. All of these things are exhausting both mentally and physically and can lead to burnout

Limited support from your community - 2 friends are less involved in your writing than they used to be

Limited empathy for yourself - your frustration is turning into self-blame where you're focusing on the fact that your stories aren't finished rather than on the fact that you lack passion for them

I'm drawing some pretty big conclusions here based on two paragraphs of text, so please do push back against anything that feels like an unfair reading of what you wrote. But it seems to me that you've been through an emotional wringer over the last few years between 2020 and your friendship drifting and not having the same supports in place that you used to have.

I think the thing you need to focus on right now is giving yourself the love and kindness you're not currently getting from others. You're beating yourself up for not finishing a story, but you say that your passion comes from immersion in it. Immersion doesn't require an ending. It just needs you to find a way to get deeper into the characters and/or the plot and/or the world.

You used to be able to find that immersion by talking about your stories with your friends. I agree that you should seek out people again since that's clearly really important to you, but while you do that you should also try to identify ways that you can immerse yourself without someone to talk to.

Try stepping away from the idea of writing the story down and instead allow yourself to just daydream about it. Think about the story. Imagine what might happen next. Play with scenes and explore the possibilities instead of deciding for sure what will happen next. When the story isn't written yet, you have an infinite choice of ways that it could go. Perhaps leaning into those myriad options will help you find the fun in it again.

As for finding a new community of people you can talk to about your writing? That's going to take some time and some work. Finding a discord server of like-minded folks. Commenting on the works of writers you find interesting. Replying to comments on your own stories. Posting ask games on tumblr and sending asks when other people post them too. Making friends online isn't always easy or fast, but those are some possible ways to go about it.

But also consider seeing if your local library has a writer's group. Join a local hobby group unrelated to writing where you can find people you enjoy. Your community doesn't have to revolve around fandom. It can also just be people who like you and who you like in return and you all feel comfortable sharing what you love.

Since you sent this ask in, I reblogged a post about rehab for writing injuries. I think you might want to take a look at that too. I think you might find it helpful. ❤️

[madocactus]

made proper turnarounds for my ttcc cog oc neon filia-mont (a.k.a. "the anecgloater"!)

this was made for artfight, but i've also copy-pasted her info here under the readmore!

Neon Filia-Mont (Young)

Summary A chipper young go-getter whose noggin crackles with ideas! Thanks to her prodigious talents in business, song, and dance, Neon Filia-Mont (a.k.a. "The Anecgloater") became a Bossbot Manager at C.O.G.S. Inc. She's an inspiration to the children of Suits everywhere! At least, that’s what her mother and father will tell you. In reality, they left C.O.G.S. Inc. to make Neon a deliberate commodity for Suitopia's under-13 demographic. And their gamble paid off! Her merchandise flies off shelves, her show is always airing, and you can't set foot in Chicogo without seeing one of her billboards. And if that wasn't enough, rumor has it that a mass-produced "Anecgloater" model is in the works... With all her success at such a tender age, Neon must live a charmed life, right? Info Gender: Cisgender Girl (She/Her) Age: 12 Height: About as tall as a Micromanager Fun Facts

Neon is an excellent performer! She can go toe-to-toe with adult Suits in terms of charisma and stage presence.

Neon likes Craig Edgar Oilcan a lot, and spends most of her time with him at Bossbot HQ. Craig taught Neon how to golf, as well as other Bossbot hobbies (such as clay pigeon shooting, dining etiquette, and a handful of cue sports.)

Neon doesn't spend much time with her parents, aside from work and the occasional fine restaurant experience. But her parents do love her! They're just a bit... hands-off.

Neon's social circle is mostly adults. She has very few, if any, friends her age; since she never went to elementary school. A tutor home-schooled her for everything.

Neon Filia-Mont (Adult)

Summary A grouchy, bitter woman in her early thirties. Neon Filia-Mont (a.k.a. "The Anecgloater") is a Sellbot you really don't want to work for. When she's not snapping at her underlings, she's sitting outside Sellbot HQ's silos; guzzling cans of cogfee or smoking cheap cigars. Neon hates it when people talk about her days as a child star. Does her vitriol stem from a case of gifted kid burnout, or something else? She'll never tell. But given her distasteful behavior, whatever happened to her couldn't have been pleasant... Info Gender: Cisgender Woman (She/Her) Age: 31 Height: About as tall as a Mr. Hollywood. Fun Facts

Neon's parents have cut off all contact with her. They retired happily and wealthy, Meanwhile, Neon is barely making ends meet.

Neon's show is still running! However, the real Neon has been replaced by a high-end, mass-produced "Anecgloater" unit. Most of the public can't tell the difference.

Neon spends most of her money on fancy clothes. She enjoys dressing to impress, and takes excellent care of her suits and ties. Though some say that she keeps herself covered for a reason...

Neon has tried to transfer to the Bossbot Department several times, using Craig Edgar Oilcan as a business reference. Craig pretends she doesn't exist.

Neon loves hitting on Minglers; especially Janet Jennings (Allan Bravecog's secretary). They all hate her.

On the other hand, Neon is deeply protective of child Suits. If she sees one, she'll act like a big sister and make sure they're safe.

Neon's relationships with the canon Sellbot managers can be read here.

[changingplumbob]

Shay McClain - Hopeful Bachelorette

Entry for Mad About Dodo by @akitasimblr

Tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do to keep busy? How would your friends describe you?

Okay, well, hi, I'm Shay. I never really fit in at school so after graduation while all my classmates headed to university I wanted something different. I've always liked making stuff so I was looking at getting into carpentry and then one of my dads had the best idea. They both know I love adventure and exploring so they suggested I travel and volunteer with organizations like Habitat for Humanity. I do a bit of carpentry when I'm home to keep the funds up. But yeah I travel the world getting to see cool places, surfing and mountain climbing, and putting my hands to good use making homes for people. Most of my friends are people I've met through that and they'd probably say I'm confident, my dads would probably say over confident, have a passion for making things, especially out of junk but in my defense people throw a lot away too quickly, and... just... a lust for life. But have you looked around? There's beauty in everything.

And why have you applied for Mad About Dodo?

My dad's are worried I'll die alone so have been trying to sort out a way for me to meet people, of course they can't exactly organize a blind date for me when we're in different continents. Don't get me wrong, I would like love in my life, it's kind of the piece that's missing you know. Anyway they sent me the entry details and I have to admit, Dodo is cute. Not that I would just apply because of an attractive person but I was reading about how he's tried other challenges before and I admire his perseverance to keep trying. That's what we have to do at the job sites. So if he's looking for someone to sweep him off his feet I'll do my best.

What do you think of your outfits?

I'm happy they're not just draping us in leaves and calling it a day. I think we've managed to pull together some stuff that'll fit in on an island. But why did we do a cold weather outfit? Aren't islands warm?

How do you see yourself getting on with other competitors?

I've honestly no idea. But I can tell you right now they better keep their pranks away from me. Seriously, a joke that's made at the expense of someone else isn't a joke. Learn how to be funny without punching down.

If you're the kind of person that can spot the good things in life I think we'll get on. I do hate small talk though, let's get to the good juicy stuff! Life's too short to be commenting on the weather constantly.

Tell us about some of your likes and dislikes

Well like I said I really like making stuff. I enjoy fabricating but my favourite is when I can carve stuff like sculptures or furniture. I'm also big into fitness, I like to keep myself in shape. I like yoga to even if I can't balance right half the time.

Dislikes... juice fizzing. I'm not going to go into detail but I had a bad experience. Mischief obviously, I'll crack jokes anytime you like but don't expect me to tie you to a voodoo doll. Programming is also something I just find boring as well as research, so it really is best that I didn't go to university.

What are you looking forward to?

Getting to know Dodo. Hopefully he can be more than a friend. I'm also looking forward to testing out my survival skills. I think they're pretty good with the work I've done but you never know until you're in the situation I guess. But yeah, mainly getting to see if this guy is the one for me, if I can be the one for him.

What are you dreading?

Sunburn! And walking around not realizing I've been pooped on by a bird.

I know most people would probably say lack of bedding and plumbing but I've gone without them before, I can handle going without them again.

Do you have a message for Dodo?

Hey Dodo, if you want someone who can work wonders with their hands I'm here *laughs* No, I'm kidding, please don't tell him I said that. Umm... Hi Dodo, I'm looking forward to building this next part of my life with you in it. See you on the island!

Download SFS

[shesalittlelost]

I've noticed this that most Nesta stans treat Nesta less like a character and more like a vehicle that they can use to be as misogynistic as possible and live their own mean girl fantasy on the internet. And the saddest thing is that it's not just her fans who do it, the author did the same to her so I'm gonna talk to about the latter first.

Nesta in ACOTAR wanted to go out and carve her life on her own because the realisation that she still hadn't found a purpose for herself while her sister already did and that she owed her whole life to her chafed at her. That's why their reunion in the first book was so touching. I was so looking forward to see what Nesta does with her journey but she isn't allowed that. Fast forward to ACOMAF, she's just... a mean girl, unnecessarily poking at her sister for no reason at all. This scene is used as a way to start Nesta and Cassian's “banter” and “romance” (lol) and in order to do that SJM basically walks back and kills whatever little but extremely significant development Nesta had in book 1. Her concern for her sister that made her risk her own life is forgotten and instead she's made to be petty, antagonistic and stupid and incredibly shortsighted even (when in book 1 she was the only one in the family who listened to Feyre & understood the threat Fae posed to the humans) to Feyre for no reason other than to clash her with Cassian. And since then it's been like this. SJM keeps obliterating everything that made Nesta, Nesta. Her ability to resist glamour? forgotten. Her not wanting to become a warrior? LOL her whole personality is just being fandom's cookie cutter sword and armour girl now. Her being averse to casual sex? Well.... you see... she lavvvvsss sex so muchhh that she starts daydreaming about having a threesome with her bf and his brother to a point that her brother-in-law can tell that from her face and gets awkward (🤮). Her wishing to explore this world on her own? Yeah lol that's not happening. Like ever.

This girl really just got moulded into someone that Miss Maas can conveniently use to live her own fantasy in the ACOTAR world. Maas is known to not get along well with other women in the field who are as popular and successful (if not more) than her and allegedly called one an ableist slur. It's public knowledge that she was horrible to her other author friends until they cut her off. She now lives in her own bubble and picks some two or three new people, less popular than her to befriend, who just hype her up. Sounds familiar? Yeah. Nesta too can't ever get along with any other major female character who is as equally relevant in the story as her. Elain was her best buddy until she stopped being Nesta's side chick. Feyre, she was always jealous with, in her own words. She looks down at Mor for not being dressed modestly causing the men to laugh at that insult (Sara, you're very obvious). That scene where Rhys aka SJM gasses her up by calling her an illyrian (warrior) as a compliment while comparing her to Elain and implying Elain doesn't count coz she just isn't one. Like there is such a big “she's not like the other girls! she is ✨different✨” energy going on with the way she's written, especially her relationship with every other women in the story, except for the two girls who are written solely to be her hype girls, that I literally can't stand it.

It starts to make sense why she appeals to a certain kind of fans here who also suffer from the “i'm not like the other girls” syndrome. A lot of these people don't even like or care about Nesta's character or story that much no, they just latch onto her to hate on every other character, especially the female ones, that they can't self insert as. Calling Feyre the nastiest things, hating on Elain for apparently being a “selfish bitch” and Mor for idek what. Like these people are physically incapable of talking about her or praising her without comparing her with or bringing down other women in the series and it's genuinely nasty how they talk about every woman who isn't her or the ones who suck up to her. I wonder if they realize how crazy they look to others coz they are very transparent.

[indecenthoney]

Pull the Plug

I'm the type of person to invite people out to hang. If you're on my mind then I'll surely send an invite. I mean more the merrier, right? Which in most cases would be true, unless you've recently made a friend like me.

"Yo? Whose this? Oh! Hey, what's up? Mmm, nothing much... I've just been working and going to the gym these past few days... Oh for sure, I'd love to hang out! Did you have anything planned? No... then what do you want to do? Dude... No way... Fuck no... If you're just going to call me up to hang out with my friends then don't bother calling me... You know why the hell I'm not setting that up... I know damn well you're going to spend the entire time flirting with all of them... Haha... You're funny... You? Behave? Why am I overreacting? It's because the last time we hung out, you saw a cute guy and bailed on me... You putting the pieces together or am I talking too fast?"

I try to see the good in people. I really do. And genuinely, without the horny part, she really was sweet and caring. Just a bit horny. Okay. A lot bit horny. It would spell danger if I were to set up a hang-out with my friends including her. I can't just have her feral in the middle of a hang-out session.  What kind of host would I be? Even then I'm a bit of a pushover if someone ends up begging me.

"Fine... fine fine fine... Fuck! We can ALL hang out, but if you even THINK about acting up. I will cancel it. You understand? No flirting. No sex talk. No getting their numbers. Is that understood? I said... Is that understood? Good... I will see you on the weekend..."

I called up all my guy friends inviting them over to my house to catch up. We've all been pretty busy these days. I was really looking forward to this, I miss those guys. Then in the back of my mind, I remember the little wildcard I invited on Saturday. This was going to be a complete shit show. I really got to stay positive. Who knows? Maybe, they'll hit it off and we can enjoy each other's company properly.

"Hey! Holy shit... It's been forever... I missed you guys... Go on ahead and drop off the stuff on the table... Make yourselves comfortable! I'm just waiting on one more... Yeah yeah she's... uhm... excited to meet you guys! The others? Naw the girls had to be bail tonight... She's the only one..."

How fucking convenient? I was hoping to ease the mood by inviting my female friends, but they got busy. It's just her now. I received a text message mentioning how she was on her way up. I hope her fucking brain can take it. I'm on my knees. Please act normal. A few knocks hit my door. Speak of the devil, there she was on the other side of the door. I can't be quick to judge. Maybe she really was going to behave. I open my door and quickly slam it in her face. She wore this crop top that barely covered her tits and this skimpy little skirt. Your mind would run wild trying to figure out if she was actually wearing or not.

"What? Do you really think I'm going to let you in here looking like that? What do you mean you're fine? You look like you're asking to get dicked down... Fuck... Can you shut up? God... Fine... fine fine fine... I'll let you in... but I want you to march straight to my room and find something decent to wear... I'm sure there's a sweater lying around somewhere... Okay? Good... Straight to room..."

Okay. I can't have her throwing a fit in front of my door. What would my neighbors think? I watched her walk into my house. Closely. She completely disregarded what I said and started heading toward where my friends were hanging. It's very difficult to piss me off, but god did that piss me off. I quickly looped my hand around her hair to gently pull her. I even made sure to cover her mouth as I dragged her quietly into my room. Throwing her onto my bed before calling out to my friends to continue without me for a few minutes.

"Guys? I'm just going to take a few minutes to fix something real quick... Yeah? Yeah, don't worry about it! I'll join you guys in a bit! You guys have fun... And you! Didn't you hear what I fucking said? Straight... to... my... room... Are you fucking dumb? Are you that fucking cock hungry that you can't listen to simple fucking instructions? Huh? Oh? Does it hurt? Aw, you're crying? I don't care if it hurts... Stupid little sluts that can't listen deserve to be hurt..."

I threw her around like it was nothing. Positioned her in a way that made her head hang over the bed. And to my surprise, she really was wearing something under that short-ass skirt. I didn't know what pissed me off more, the fact that she wore panties or the fact that wearing panties was her form of being behaved. I quickly unbuckled my pants dropping my underwear revealing my already hard cock. Placing it near her face watching her lips quiver at the sudden presentation of my cock.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm giving you what you want? Here c'mon you're favorite cock... Don't be shy... You're drooling over it already... Are you really hesitating right now? This is what you wanted, right? Don't tell me you were all bark and no bite... C'mon, princess... I'm asking you to do the one thing you do best... Have a taste... Now that's a good girl... Kiss it... Mhm... Worship it... That's it... Open your mouth wide for me, yeah?"

What little resistance she had quickly faded as my cock entered her mouth. It was funny really. Seeing a bulge as I fucked her throat; it's as if the choker around her neck could've snapped off at any moment. Where are my manners? I can't be the only one having fun, right? I took my cock out to give her a little breather before jamming right back in. I reached over pulling up her skirt; pushing her panties to the side. Rubbing her clit silly as her mouth warmed my cock. The little slut was already so wet.

"God, you're such a slut... Aw, what's wrong? You want me to stop? Does it hurt? When you're this wet? Oh? What was that? Can't breathe? You shouldn't talk when you're mouth is full, you know? Keep your legs open... or I'll suffocate you... Good girl... So you can listen to instructions... That's it... Just a little longer... and I'll let you breathe, alright? That's it... cum... make a mess... It's okay, sweetie... You can be as loud as you want in here... I made sure to soundproof my room just for this occasion... Such a good girl..."

As she groaned and convulsed at such a heavy orgasm, I decided to pull my cock out to let her breathe. I wanted to hear her moans. But the little slut didn't even take a moment to breathe but instead continued to kiss my cock as a thank you. I was free to do whatever I wanted to her. It's not like my friends could hear her anyway. Turned her around facing her cunt towards me. I gently rubbed her clit and stared her down while on top.

"Now... What does my good girl want? Use your words... My cock? Yeah? What about it? You want me to fuck you? Shove my cock into your needy little pussy? Mhm ya? Okay, sweetie... Stay still for me..."

Tapped my cock on her needy clit. Having her eagerly wait for my cock to enter her, but to her surprise I took a different approach.

"Shhh...Shhh... It's okay, sweetie... I know it hurts... I mean you didn't really expect to get your assed fucked today, huh? But nonetheless, you did a good job sucking me off... It's all nice and wet cause of you... If you didn't... I wouldn't have any choice but to fuck you raw... You're taking it so well, sweetie... And that's just the tip... Mhm... We have a long... long way to go... and when we're all nice and comfy... I'll fuck your ass and fill you to the brim, okay? All that whimpering... Just shut the fuck up and take it, yeah?"

I slowly placed her down into my lap; taking our time as she got used to my cock penetrating her ass. Making sure to pick up her legs as she slides down my shaft. It's a good thing she was already wet. I can feel her cunt dripping onto my cock easing the process. I've never seen her so quiet before apart from the whimpering, but at least she isn't talking anymore. She was behaving. Maybe all she needed was to be put in her place. I could hear faint whispers from her. And I lost it. She called me daddy. You don't understand what that does to a man. I threw her down; pressing her head into the mattress. I was going to make sure that her ass remembers the shape of my cock. I'll make her into my perfect little fuck doll she always dreamt to be. Why be nice when she wants this?

"What was that? You're slurring your words, sweetheart... Be gentle? We're way past being gentle, sweetie... You're mine now... I can do whatever the fuck I want with you... This ass... This pretty little pussy... All mine... Maybe when I'm all done... I'll have my friends take a turn, huh? Would you like that, sweetie? Won't you look at that... Squeezing down on me... Did you like that sound of that? Should I let them in here and see what a fucking disgusting slut you are for me? Have them watch as cum slowly drips out of ur slutty little holes..."

Honestly, I only ever said those words to turn her on even more, but I would never dream of sharing. I'm possessive. What's mine is mine. And I was about to leave a whole lot of proof that she was, deep inside of her. I slammed my cock deep inside of her only caring for my own pleasure. As I came deep inside, I hugged from behind forcing her down onto my cock. She was a leaky little mess. Unfortunately, she didn't cum yet, but I had other plans. Don't you worry.

"Yes yes... You did a good job, sweetheart... Why don't we head outside? Ah no buts... I'll give you, you're reward later, okay? After we're done hanging out with everyone... I promise I'll let you cum... Understood? Can you behave until then? Good girl... Let's get you plugged up, princess... We wouldn't want you leaking in front of our guests..."

She arched her back into the sky; waiting patiently for me. I rummaged through all my little toys and pulled out a butt plug for her to use. I glided it gently through her pussy, getting it as wet as possible before pressing it into her ass. It was honestly a pretty sight. I never thought I'd get to use this toy. After appreciating the sight for a little while longer, I quickly grabbed her a sweater to use. Cleaning her up the best I can, before pulling her along with me to greet my friends.

"Hey! Yeah sorry I had to go through some of the things in my closet to grab the board games... The noise? Oh! It dropped while I was pulling it out and she screamed. It's okay though! Wasn't that big of a mess! Before I forget... This is my new friend... Do you want to introduce yourself?"

The look on her face was priceless. She was completely red and couldn't even look them in the eye. I went ahead and introduced them to her; further instructing her to take a seat on the far side of my couch. She was free to stay quiet and squirm for the duration of the party. Even when they tried to talk to her, all she could do was look down and talk in such a small voice. She wanted her reward more than anything, so she behaved. When it was finally time for my friends to leave, tears started streaming down her face as she rubbed herself stupidly on my couch waiting for me to see my friends out. She fingered herself but didn't dare to bring herself to climax.

"Oh? Don't let me stop you, sweetheart... Good girls deserve to cum... What's with that look? You look like you've seen a ghost... Were you waiting for something? Oh? How could I forget about your reward? Silly me... Let's get this hangout started, shall we? It's going to be a long... long night for us after all..."

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

Bites you,

Honey

[p-redux]

Well, folks, the day has finally come, I'm so angry about something, I can barely speak, let alone write. But write I will...

Here goes. I, Purv, in NO WAY, approve of Bcac's blog or her. It has come to my attention that after Bcac's account was deactivated by Tumblr and then quickly reactivated, she made this mention of me. 👇

First of all, what I said I said privately in a DM. If I had wanted to offer public support, I would have. I thought my DM conversations were private, apparently not. The person I DMed with has already apologized to me for betraying my confidence. Secondly, just because I said Bcac shouldn't lose her account does NOT mean I'm cool with her or her blog. I said in DM that I didn't think Bcac should have lost her blog, but because I think everyone should have freedom of speech, in general. That's it.

But now Bcac has taken what I said privately and weaponized it to try to legitimize herself with those other than the Sam-haters and Purv-haters she surrounds herself with. And THAT I'm VERY upset about.

Bcac has toned down her blatant displays of Sam hate because she realizes she has a captive audience of Sam fans who are waiting on his every move. And she provides that for them. But let me be VERY CLEAR, Bcac has disdain for Sam Heughan. And, she welcomes people who have disdain for him on her blog. And people who have disdain for me. She regularly commiserates with and allows comments from KNOWN Sam haters. They have harassed and bullied Sam and talked sh*t about the women he dates for years.

Here's a quick sampling of MANY examples, showing Bcac talking badly about Sam and allowing others to. 👇

Aside from the Sam-haters that Bcac welcomes on her blog, she also welcomes those who have made MY life hell for years and years. I recognize so many names from the past. People who harassed me all day and even tried to dox me. That's who flocks to Bcac's blog. Sam-haters, Purv-haters, don't be fooled thinking that's not the case. I can name names if anyone is interested in DM.

Bcac herself has talked sh*t about me privately and publicly on her blog. Here's a quick example of her making fun of me and also putting Sam down in the process. 👇

Here she is continuing to put me down, even making fun of my eye issues! 👇

Like I said, this is only the tip of the iceberg of Bcac and her followers mocking me. And she's toned it down significantly because she knows many of my followers now look at her blog too.

So, yes, I don't think Bcac should have had her blog deactivated, but ONLY because I believe in freedom of speech. Even for b*tches who talk sh*t about Sam and about me. And make no mistake, Bcac and her minions are b*tches. They're just hiding it better these days. Except for the blogger who shared my DM, she's not a b*tch. But I will be parting ways since I can no longer trust her. Silly me, I thought it was possible for someone to be best friends with Bcac and also be friendly with me. I should know better after 10 years in this Godforsaken fandom.

Tumblr only lets you post 10 pics, but if anyone is interested in more crap Bcac has posted about me or Sam, hit me up in DM, and I'll show you.

So, today is the day I draw the line in the sand. I don't want to ever hear Bcac's name or anyone associated with her. Why would I want anything to do with someone who puts me down? I'm not going to tolerate that. No one should. Soooo, anyone who is chummy to me on my blog, but then I get wind you're also chummy with Bcac, will get blocked. I'm done with this bullsh*t. I get it, she finds out Sam's every move and people want that info. So, go ahead and get it from her. But, you won't ALSO be able to stay on my blog. Am I making people pick sides? Absofuckinglutely. If that means I lose a lot of followers. So be it. I've decided I'd rather have no followers than two-faced people. I like Sam and I like myself. She doesn't like Sam and she doesn't like me. You can't be okay with her and her sh*t talking of me, and be okay with me. It's impossible. Simple as that.

Those of the more reasonable calm, Switzerland type personalities may not understand my choice. Those of the passionate, take a stand, have your back no matter what persuasion, will understand. Maybe it's my Italian blood, maybe, I've put up with too much betrayal and bullsh*t in this fandom. It is what it is. And what it is...is that I'll leave this post up for a few days for people to read it, and then I'll start blocking people. So, if you find yourself not being able to see my blog, you'll know why.

Again, this is not me being upset over some minor disagreement or Bcac constantly accusing me of stealing her stuff (funny, how a few days ago, SHE stole two exclusive pics I got of the Outlander cast at the Taylor Swift concert, but whatever), THIS is because she has said and says horrible things about me and about Sam. Obviously, she does it more in private now since she wants to keep her Sam fan followers. And so many eat her info up, not knowing she's secretly laughing about you in DMs with the Sam haters. I'm done turning a blind eye to it. And I want people to know how toxic she is to Sam. And to me. And that she used what I said about her blog in a very misleading way to make herself look good. "Look, even Purv thought I should have my blog back, I must be okay." Nope, don't get it twisted, sister. And the industry people in L.A. I know who know Sam personally were made aware a long time ago about all the Sam hate blogs, which means Sam was too. Those liking, reblogging, or commenting on Bcac's posts are guilty by association. JS.

For those who have supported me all these years, you mean the world to me. Loyalty is everything, so thank you. ❤️

PS. So much for not writing a long ass post. 🤷‍♀️

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Hi, it's me again 😭 I also wanted to ask how you'd think the story would change if Steve wasn't a character! I know people think that him and Two-bit aren't important but I totally disagree so I wanted to hear ur thoughts on it (sorry if you've already answered this question)

OMG A STEVE ASK? ILY

Ok so I already made a huge post in defence of Steve as a character which anyone can read here if they want to, but I will reiterate that anyone who thinks Steve (or Two-bit for that matter) aren't important characters obviously struggles to understand the point of the book, or has a shallower grasp on the main themes. Yes, the main PLOT of the book (meeting Cherry at the movies, the slap, stabbing bob, running, the church fire, etc) could happen without Steve, but it would be very cut and dry and dare I say a lot more boring without Steve as a character. the whole point of Steve and Two-bit is that they provide nuance and contrast to other characters and situations which serve to make those characters/situations that much more impactful. Soda isn't half as lovable on the page without his grumpy best friend to compare him to. Without Two-bit's laziness to compare to, the weight of Darry's responsibilties wouldn't be so obvious or impactful. Steve also shows readers that Soda has some level of a support system aside from his brothers- take Soda's best friend since gradeschool out of the book, and Soda becomes a loss less dynamic of a character. Steve's presence in the novel makes him a person, a three dimensional character who is nuanced and important in his own right. Without Steve, Soda becomes nothing more than Ponyboy's big brother. I also recently made a post about how Steve foils Johnny- Johnny is another character whose nuance is cheapened if Steve isn't around. Steve, like Dally, is someone who Johnny could have become given his life and his circumstances. Take away Steve, and you don't see that as clearly. Even think about Ponyboy- the antagonistic nature of his relationship with Steve (Steve calling him a tagalong, Ponyboy saying he hates him sometimes, etc) help to remind the reader that Ponyboy is fourteen years old, something that makes the tragedy Pony has lived through even more impactful to those reading. Take away Steve, and thus his and Pony's rivalry, and you lose a lot of instances where Pony actually acts and thinks like a kid his age. I've said it before and I'll say it again: you don't have to like Steve as a character (even though in my opinion everyone should) but it's disingenuous and downright untrue to say he isn't an integral part of the novel, and it's willfully ignorant to continue to say as much. Steve is important, and I will shout this from the rooftops until he finally gets the respect he deserves.

Thanks for the ask xx

[blissfulfandomingmess]

Bridgerton Season 3 Is Completely Out - Here's My Thoughts (Not Spoiler Free!)

I never expected myself to become a sucker for Bridgerton yet here we are. It started after promotion for Season 3 began earlier this year. They began to drop the snippets, specifically the infamous "your eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue" scene. So, as soon as these scenes dropped, I felt some appeal. However, Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton really PULLED me into the trap. The PR and their genuine friendship brought me so much comfort and idealization. I still feel like an imposter in this fandom as I haven't watched the show from beginning to end. I'm hesitant to start it. I've already found myself being emotionally attached to these characters and their actors. It's formed a hyperfixation so that's a great new addition to my shelf of many fixations. But with that comes, a lot of dread to start a series in fear of me disliking their characters in previous seasons or feeling no appeal to other characters. I don't want to be that person.

Yet I still watched Season 3. I may not know every character and have a basic rundown of what's happened in previous seasons but I've enjoyed what I've seen. The first part of Season 3 focused on establishing the friends-to-lovers phenomenon between Colin and Penelope. Some aspects felt rushed but to me, it was pretty well done. However, when it comes to covering a book, there should definitely be more aspects of the book included. Many things were excluded, some for completely valid reasonings and others that didn't make sense. As many of the dearest gentle readers watched the second half of the season, many have echoed the same disappointment. Where was his declaration of love from the books? Why was there more anger than happy scenes? Why did they seem to skip many events from the book adaption?

Before we delve into this deeper, if you haven't read the original book (Romancing Mister Bridgerton: Penelope & Colin's Story by Julia Quinn), this is what we as a fandom are referring to:

“I love you,” he said, his voice low and fervent. “I love you with everything I am, everything I've been, and everything I hope to be.” “I love you with my past, and I love you for my future.” He bent forward and kissed her, once, softly, on the lips.

In many ways, we technically got something similar to this towards the end of Episode 8 but most longtime readers and watchers were looking forward to this moment. Not only that but the almost reversed sequence of events. However, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, this is a live-action adaption of the novelization. The novelization will forever reign superior.

Stlll, Luke and Nicola brought these characters to life with their blood, sweat, and tears. You can see through their art how serious and important these characters are to them. I think it's fair to say that I cannot wait to see them in future seasons, even though, they will no longer be the leads. I think that's another reason I dreaded the end of this season. I've enjoyed all the press, interviews, photoshoots, and friends made along the way.

To finish this off, I would like to applaud Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Not only did they provide us with happiness and joy but they showed their close friendship, highlighting their immense respect for each other. You don't see things like this in this business often. Of course, they played into some aspects of the PR but their friendship was never PR despite sites like DeuxMoi wanting to claim.

And with that dearest gentle readers, this is where we part. Not literally but this season has been an amazing journey for us all. I can't wait to see what the future has in store. I hope and pray that Nicola and Luke remain friends through all hate and rumors, as well. This won't be the last you hear of my Bridgerton ranting and rambling as I hope to actually start from beginning to end. I hope you all enjoyed this season as much as I have, even with some of the hurdles with the second half.

[blegh-110]

okay i need a part two where she gets her own group and kinda starts acting like sam and she starts partying and hanging out with older boys to cope and sam gets all mad and jealous

unless you already have an idea either way i love ur fic 🙏🙏

fyi, anon is referring to "im not a princess, this aint a fairytale" part of older brother's best friend!sam. Honestly I was going to write this after I was finished with the whole series, but I'm kinda in a little writing rut right now and I've been wanting to write this since I got it so hopefully this will help with it. Anywaysss…

Let's say this happens, and Sam is at one of his high school parties where kids are drinking and doing drugs and all that kinda stuff, and he sees reader there across the room. That boy is beyond shocked!!

 He thinks it makes sense for him to be there, he's been making not so great decisions and hanging out with the wrong people lately. But you? He knows how much you hate big, loud crowds like this, as well as the smell of weed and smoke from cigarettes. He knows because the last time he saw you you had given you a quick side hug after convincing his teacher to let him out of detention, you quite literally scrunched your nose and turned your head when your nose made contact with his shirt. He and his friends had smoked a bit in the parking lot right before. 

So right when he sees you he’s wondering what the fuck are you doing here? And why? Do you have a ride home? Who did you come with?

Then he goes from concerned and confused to really fucking concerned and confused when he sees a boy handing you a drink and putting your hair behind your ears. He’s heard about this other guy and he’s a total asshole. He knows because he sits right next to a group of girls in his math class who absolutely hate him, apparently he cheated on one of them and just treated her horribly. As soon as he sees him touch you he’s storming towards you two, not caring who he shouldered and bumped into. 

“Alright, get the fuck away,” Sam pushed the other boy’s shoulder roughly, then grabbed your bicep and began pulling you with him, “lets go.”

“Sam, what are you doing?” You attempted to free yourself from his grip but he was just going through the crowd of people so fast that your feet couldn’t stop moving with him. Soon enough he had gotten you outside to his car. 

“C’mon.” He looked back at you expecting you to get in but you continued to stand in your place, the very last thing you wanted was to be near him.

“Does your brother know you’re here?” That was what broke you, if he found out he’d blow up on you. With defeated and frustrated tears in your eyes you got in the passenger seat, letting out an annoyed sigh when Sam closed the door for you. 

“I don’t know who you’ve been hanging out with, but you need to be careful around people like him.” You didn’t say anything in response, only staring out the window watching the cars go by and the silence killed Sam. He didn’t like that there was no confusion or worry at his words, so he continued talking, just so he could hopefully get something from you.

“I’ve heard some awful stuff about him, he probably looks like a nice guy but he’s not.” He looked at you, maybe he just didn’t see your reaction.

Nothing. 

“Guys like him, (Y/N), they’re gonna treat you like shit if you’re not careful.” He spit out, thinking if he was aggressive with his word then you would understand what you were getting yourself into. 

“That’s hard to imagine.” Is all you say and Sam is fully ready to stop the car, reevaluate everything he’s done and apologize but he keeps driving. This was not how he wanted it to happen. Not when you were already angry and not when he didn't have his thoughts all together. So he gripped the steering wheel tightly and sighed, trying to let out his growing frustration in silence. 

And when he was back home, he was up for another hour going insane wondering if that wasn’t your first party you’ve been to, and that maybe that wasn’t the first time you were out with the other guy (it wasn’t your first party and it wasn’t your first time with him lol).

[jennyun-sooyun]

My Critique/Thoughts/Rant about Rayman

(Leading up to "Captain Laserhawk")

I know! Random…

But this has been on my mind since I saw Captain Laserhawk, which I'm going to say off the bat that I don't like it but to each their own.

But that's not the focus. (Cyberpunk Edgerunners was miles better)

The focus is on the character, Rayman.

Now, I know what some of you are going to be thinking…I might be hearing comments like:

"You're just letting nostalgia blind you."

"Get over it, it was the right direction, you're just old!"

Yes, I've been playing Rayman since it came out on the PS1, then onward to Rayman: The Great Escape and Hoodlum Havoc. He is my all time favorite character growing up as a kid. I even played the stupid (misused) Rabbids idea of "Rayman 4" being robbed from us of the original concept -- and turned into a cheap party Wii mini game instead.

(I did not play Origins or Legends from here -- I did not like the direction personally)

But now on the direction of the character, I just felt it had all gone downhill since the Rabbids. I didn't mind the concept of the Rabbids existing, it's how they WROTE them in the same space with Rayman. I feel like they just made the Rabbids the main characters/protagonist(s), but not Rayman himself. Then reusing the character into the Captain Lazerhawk show that way…

I felt his character was just GREATLY disrespected, and the fans of Rayman (or what's left of us) were not given that respect either in a way for our limbless hero.

NOW! I am NOT against Rayman's ending where he turned into "Ramone" -- but it's HOW he got there.

Like…seriously?

….

Rayman…resorting to alcoholism, drugs, etc, and resorting to acting like a pathetic loser who wanted to be a desperate people pleaser? Say what you want but I feel that's just almost completely out of character for him. I feel like the writers just wanted to write him in a way for the sake of being edgy/modern -- or "Hey, this is what a lot of character nowadays are written like for the sake of making it an adult show!"

Listen, listen, that's just MY take on it, okay.

If it's any other character besides Rayman, I'd be totally fine with it -- because it'll just be another tragic character in another show.

…

First of all, Rayman was NEVER really a simp-y people pleaser in that sense. I wouldn't think he'd be the kind of character to be on TV for Eden to appeal to people, or even care to go up on stages for any other reason other than just messing around.

If anything, the character would've been relieved to hear that he could finally get some peace and sleep, because he kept being interrupted every time something happens. In many cases, he just wants it done and out and he could go back to sleeping in his favorite spots seen in Rayman 1-3. He was always dragged into the fray.

…But fine, let's go with the original plot of Laserhawk and do it anyway.

That's just the start of it.

As the story progresses, I felt the writing was really lackluster and the characters acting…like something from a typical teenage fanfiction instead of something people would do in that situation -- with the scene of Rayman losing his temper with Red. Or days when Rayman got depressed and became an alcoholic.

Rayman alone succumbing to addictions such as cocaine, alcohol and trying to bang a cow lady was just…extremely out of character for someone like him.

In all cases, Rayman was the type of character who didn't let that take him and always surmount the challenges despite how bleak things are -- like Rayman: The Great Escape.

This is coming from a guy who was kidnapped, enslaved and had seen his friends being tortured and trafficked while he could only watch.

Yet he was able to rise above the challenge and free his entire planet.

He always had the one mindset of just doing what he does and finding things to have fun with while he does it.

DON'T get me wrong, I like the direction of Rayman being taken advantaged of to further Eden's terrible plot, and I liked the idea of Rayman becoming "Ramone" to finish the job and save Bullfrog shooting up everyone there. He still cared and still ended as a hero despite everything -- I don't mind that at all.

That, I can sit with.

It's the fact of HOW he got there was just out of characters since the beginning, at least that's how it felt for me on that.

It'll be like seeing characters like Kirby/Spyro/Sonic/Crash Bandicoot suddenly becoming a coke snorting alcoholic who becomes a desperate people pleaser trying not to be forgotten. That's how off it looks. It's completely out of character. I get characters can shift and change over time depending on what happened to them -- but it still would defeat the purpose.

Characters listed above wouldn't have done that -- because they aren't supposedly like everyone else. The whole point is that they are PROTAGONISTS with stories centered on them on why they are the focus, people that rose above situations that average people can't. -- at least that's how I feel about the idea of these types of protagonists. They were heroes that did the impossible.

So, you're telling me Rayman, the man who had been through kidnapping, slavery, trafficking, and watching his friends get tortured in Rayman 2, ...was done in and went to drugs, sex and alcoholism over a fraud case, being framed, not getting attention, and media problems? AND just fell for some really gullbile bullshit that he got himself into uncharacteristically? Just saying. I get the context from Laserhawk but...really?

Listen, I like the end design. I like him going edgy. I like his Jakified transformation in some way. But the way he was written to get there is 90% what freaking matters.

I feel the use of Rayman was constantly been misunderstood as just a joke character -- but hey, it's Ubisoft.

Should I be surprised? Perhaps not.

Do I have the right to be disappointed as a fan? Yes.

Take it with a grain of salt.

This is just my thoughts about it. I'm not saying I'm right -- I'm just disagreeing with the direction of the character.

I just don't think Rayman himself would ever get himself in those situations, unless he was dragged in against his will.

I just feel Ubisoft just doesn't understand their characters…along with other things..

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

I'm just a girl who loves her limbless baby. Okay?

----

Edit:

Someone made a good, clear point that the premise and point of "Captain Laserhawk that it's to "discard what was initially thought of the IPs, and have them wipe clean of any prior history and into clean slates to rewrite them."

(Thank you for pointing this out)

That's somehow even worse.

Sounds like a lazy plot convenience/tool to make it an excuse to write characters without honoring and looking up the source material indepth -- and fulfill a different view of what they want the character to be like despite how it's uncharacteristic of the character itself.

A lot of modern writers are doing this to existing characters alot nowadays, which is pretty sad.

[disasterbuck]

Hiii Anna 💕💕💕

Ooh so many of these wips sound so good!

1,3,6,9,32,34,44

-❤️🪐

hiii tysm 🥰 hope you enjoy these snippets!! 💕

archer

Buck stared at Eddie. He wanted him so much his chest ached with it, but he was terrified to make a move. Eddie was his best friend, and what if making a move made things awkward between them? What if Eddie wasn't even interested to begin with? What if he was interested, they made a go of it, but then things didn't work out?

Buck didn't think he could cope with losing his best friend. Eddie was the best friend he'd ever had, possibly the only best friend he'd ever had. All other friends had been casual. He was liked by many people because he strove to be accepted, but never before had he had someone as important as Eddie in his life.

He didn't want to lose him.

boxer briefs

Buck also came to a stop, feeling his cheeks turn pink and resisting the urge to put his hands in front of his crotch; he wasn't naked after all. But he was painfully aware that he had a hell of a lot of skin on show right now and Eddie was definitely not staring at his face.

"Hey," Buck said, the word coming out as a bit of a squeak. "Sorry, I uh—"

"I think I'm gay," Eddie said.

(click the title for another snippet from this wip)

buck zoned out/daydreaming

"I don't know what you mean," Buck said, avoiding the truth and telling himself to stop looking at Eddie's mouth.

"Yes you do," Eddie said, his lips curving into a smirk and his arms coming up to rest on the wall on either side of Buck's head.

Now boxed in, Buck had nowhere to go. Eddie was leaning in closer, closer, and Buck's skin felt like it was on fire. He wanted to reach out and grab Eddie, pulling their bodies together and kissing him passionately.

"Buck?"

"Yes Eddie?" he asked quietly.

"Can you help me with this?"

Suddenly snapping out of his daydream, Buck –

😉 (click the title above if you want to read another snippet from this wip)

chris watches

Weeks passed. Christopher watched his dad and his Buck continue to smile and laugh and hang out together. They always spent time with him as well, but now that Chris was paying attention he realised that there were a lot of times when the two adults would hang out by themselves as well.

They would be having dinner and his dad would say something like, "the other day when Buck and I..." and he wasn't talking about work.

His dad and his Buck hung out on days off while Chris was at school, going to see movies or just going for drives or finding projects to work on together around the house. The more he became aware of it, the more Chris realised they were together way more than he had thought they were. It was like they were joined at the hip.

And he began to wonder... were they already together?

And if they were, why were they keeping it from him?

nightlight

A crack of lightning split the sky and Buck cringed, trying not to react lest someone realise he was afraid.

They were out for dinner together, safe inside a restaurant. But it was storming outside and Buck had a clear view out the window, plus the thunder was loud enough to be heard above the constant chatter every now and then.

Feeling a hand on his arm, he looked over to see Eddie with his head close.

"You okay?"

"Of course," Buck said with an easy grin. "Why wouldn't I be?"

oh buck

"I'm coming in."

Turning the handle, Eddie opened the door and found himself looking down on Buck's hunched form. The other man was sitting on the tiles, curled inwards with his hands wrapped around his head. For someone so tall and strong, he looked incredibly small and fragile.

"Oh, Buck…" Eddie whispered, carefully crossing over to him and sitting down too. He ran his fingers through some of Buck's hair before wrapping himself around him, holding him securely. "I'm here," he murmured. "I've got you."

will you...?

"I said yes," he repeated, then stood up so that they were equal with each other and reached a hand out. "Yes, Eddie. I'd love to go on a date with you."

Eddie's frown slid from his face, leaving behind a look of dismay.

Buck felt as though someone had dropped a stone down his throat.

"Was that… not what you were going to say?" he asked slowly, curling his fingers into a fist as he lowered his hand to his side again.

Looking extremely pained, Eddie said, "Uh… no. Um. I was gonna ask if you could watch Chris for me."

Forcing himself to nod, Buck pushed down his disappointment and pasted on a smile.

-

Click here for more of my wip snippets

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[strawbebbiesart]

june/ july / august 💌🥪🦢