#(yes I know I should use filters more aggressively this isn’t about that)

[galwithalibrarycard]

Do you ever stumble on just the summary of a work on AO3 that’s so reprehensible that you spend a whole week feeling guilty and obsessing over whether just having work existing on the same website as that shit makes you a terrible person? Thoughts?

#non-reblogable bc I don’t want a tumblr wide forum here #i just want to hear from my fellow ficwriters I actually follow and interact with #how do I stop feeling dirty #and no this isn’t kinkshaming #i don’t judge any kink between consenting adults #but there are things I can’t condone #ugh I feel like shit #(yes I know I should use filters more aggressively this isn’t about that)

[potatobugxo]

Ink demon alphabet SFW 🥰

AWWW YES

warnings: mentions of trauma, mentions of eating things alive

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

at first, bendy is not affectionate at all. he’s rather distant and hesitant to commit any form of physical affection. however, once he realized he wasn’t too good at displaying affection through words, he decided on rubbing his head against you like a cat, and then it grew to him wanting to hold you more often! 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

the ink demon has... never had a friend before. you’re the first, and he does not know how to deal with it at first. he has no idea how to even be a friend in return, aside from doing favors for you at first and talking with you. just know you can confide in him at any time!!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

bendy is a big cuddle monkey. he loves holding you in his arms in whatever position you’re comfortable in, and will rest his head in your lap so you can give him head and horn pets as often as possible. though he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s an absolute cuddle menace!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he is the almighty ink demon. do you expect him to be able to cook food or clean anything? his idea of “cooking” is eating an ink creature while they’re still alive. not the most domestic thing to do. he doesn’t entirely understand the concept of even being “domestic”.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he’d eat you lmao. if he ever deemed you untrustworthy, or if you hurt him in any way, he’d see no reason to keep you around. that’s the only way anything would end, at least

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

bendy has absolutely no idea what marriage even is. he knows the mere idea of it, but doesn’t understand it whatsoever. his idea of “marrying” you would be just to keep you by his side forever as long as you’re willing to have him. and if you wanna put a ring on it, hey, he doesn’t understand human customs but sure.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

“gentle” is the last word anyone would use to describe the ink demon. however, for you, he’s exceptionally soft. no one has ever been gentle with him in his cursed lifetime, so he doesn’t know how to be soft with you at first. it takes a lot of teaching and a lot of trust for him to warm up and be vulnerable with you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

bendy’s hugs are like being tugged into a giant cave. he’s this huge mass of ink and bones so he isn’t the softest hugger, so he can come across as a bit aggressive when showing affection, though he doesn’t mean to, he just can’t control his strength at times and forgets how fragile you are compared to him

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

it takes him a long, long, long time before he says it. its another thing added onto the pile of things he doesn’t understand. no one has ever shown him love, so he has no perception of what it is or how it should be. he only learns it through you and if lots of affection, words of affirmation, and quality time is what love is, then yes, he’ll end up saying “i love you” eventually.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

oh boy... the ink demon has no filter when he’s jealous. usually he sees you as doing no wrong, if you’re spending time with helpless lost ones, or being openly affectionate with other ink creatures, he doesn’t mind all that much. but if one starts getting a bit too close with you, he’ll rip their head off, unless you can calm him down. as much as he hates to admit it, he’s extremely possessive and just wants to protect you. he can’t risk losing his only source of love.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

this man has no lips so he can’t exactly kiss you. he’ll boop you with his teeth and lick your face with his inky tongue, but that’s about all he can do when it comes to smooching you. your kisses however, are so soft and adorable it makes him purr wherever you decide to kiss him!

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

bendy has no idea how to deal with anyone, let alone children. he sees them as bite sized snacks, to be honest. unless you convince him otherwise, kids are frankly a waste of time and/or edible in his eyes djksgs

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

mornings don’t really exist in the alternate dimension, so whenever you wake up he just goes about his “day” with you like normal. tho he’ll probably bring you food aka body parts because he knows you’re probably hungry when you wake up djsgddf

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

same as for mornings, nights don’t exist, it’s just always dark. however, he counts you going to sleep as “night”, so he’ll make sure you’ve got lots of plushies and pillows and whatever else you need that’s comfortable for you to sleep on

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

it’s a very long time before bendy starts opening up about his traumatic past. no one has ever cared about him, listened to him, or taken him into consideration. it takes a long time for him to trust you because of this, so he won’t “open up” until further along into your relationship.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

the ink demon gets pissed off very easily, it’s frightening. though you’re the last person to make him mad, most others will irritate him if anything by their mere presence alone.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

bendy remembers everything about everyone. he can get inside someone’s mind and know each of their secrets. so everything you’ve ever told him about yourself, he has retained in his memory.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

the ink demon’s favorite moment was when you showed genuine kindness to him. it was before anything romantic ever happened, you just genuinely wanted to be his friend and to get along with him, and that moment means the most to him out of all of them. it was the foundation of your love for him and his love for you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

the ink demon will protect you against ANY harm that comes your way. all threats will be eliminated one way or another. as for him, he doesn’t need any protection at all. he’s the ink demon. though of course, he appreciates you protecting him against any negative remarks that come his way. that’s always sweet and he never stops you from doing so

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

bendy tries his best to make sure you’re happy and cared for. he wants to make sure he’s doing a good job at being a friend, significant other, etc, even if he has no idea what he’s doing at times. this goes for no matter what he does, whether it be his idea of a “date” or giving you gifts that he thinks would mean something to you!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

the fact that he enjoys ripping lost ones to shreds, probably. i mean, mans has to eat, what else is he gonna do? but he also does it just because he wants to so dkjghsj

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

bendy could not give two hecks about what he looks like. he already knows he’s terrifying no matter what form he takes, so why bother doing anything else?

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

it isn’t that he would feel incomplete without you, he’d just feel empty again like he did before if you weren’t there (so yes i guess, he would feel incomplete without you...?) . you fill a hole no one else could fill. he wants to protect you and love you for the rest of his life just as you do him

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

bendy purrs like a giant cat when you pet him, thank you

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he doesn’t like anyone who despises him and who actively seeks to hurt him. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

the ink demon doesn’t have the need for sleep, however if he so chooses he’ll cuddle with you while you sleep in his arms, and has his own way of drifting off, forgetting about the world around him without actually needing to sleep.

#batdr #bendy and the dark revival #ink demon x reader #bendy x reader #sfw alphabet

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

#maneskin #måneskin #vanity fair #italian #translation

[firewoodfigs]

Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

                                       +++++

Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows  he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

#royai #royai fanfic #royai fic #sorry my lunch break is almost over so I gotta go back to work LOL but I will come back and edit this later AHAHAHAH #my new brand is 'excessive usage of chess metaphors' and man. it shows....... #lovely anon <3 #have a great week anon!!! mwahmwahmwah!!!!!! #reblogs and comments are always appreciated :")

[trainsinanime]

Was Namaari gaslighting Raya?

In Raya and the Last Dragon, one hot take you’ll find quite a bit is about the part where (spoilers) Namaari says to Raya that they’re both responsible for Sisu’s (temporary) death. They’re saying that Namaari is “gaslighting” Raya here, and that she’s the one responsible because she’s the one that brought the crossbow to what was supposed to be a peaceful meeting. Is that true?

To discuss this, first of all, let’s set aside the fact that this is not what “gaslighting” means. Gaslighting is an abusive long-term project, not a single thing you say once. People way overuse that term on the internet. I’m sure there are people who say that scams like shell games or NFTs are gaslighting (they’re not). This scene, if anything, is just normal lying and/or blame shifting, but it seems to me that this is what we’re talking about anyway. I’m also going to ignore that Namaari clearly didn’t bring the crossbow to kill Sisu, but rather to (threaten to) shoot Raya, because that’s still not a nice thing to do.

Personally, I think that at the very least, Namaari is telling her truth here. She truly thinks that she and Raya are both responsible for what happened. She isn’t deceitful, she isn’t trying to manipulate Raya, she’s not even begging for her life, she’s just explaining her view. Of course that is only partially relevant; just because it’s not a lie doesn’t mean it’s the truth.

So that is the big question: Is Raya to blame here, at all? Even though it was Namaari who brought the crossbow, and pointed it? I think yes. To explain why, let’s look at the structure of the movie.

This movie is almost an ur-example of the structure described by screenwriter Craig Mazin in his “How to write a movie” talk (original audio version). The movie has a clear central dramatic argument: Cynicism and isolation versus optimism and trust. Raya and Namaari both have similar arcs where they start the main part of the story very cynical and isolated; Raya arguably more so.

Throughout the movie, Raya meets more and more characters and situations that discourage her cynicism and encourage her to be optimistic and trusting. She has moments of being trusting, and sometimes it pays off, sometimes less so. And as she meets more and more people who prove trustworthy after she gave them a chance, her cynicism slowly melts away.

Namaari’s arc is parallel and similar. She believes she lives in a doomed cat-eat-cat world, partly through her own actions, and everything she does to protect her own people is justified because there is no alternative. But then she sees her favorite dragon has returned, and she begins questioning everything she thought. She sees that there is hope after all. But just like Raya, this isn’t a one-and-done thing, especially since her mother encourages her to stay cynical.

When they meet outside the Fang city, after Raya’s letter, we find both of them at the midpoint of their arc. Both know their old, cynical mode of being doesn’t work anymore, and they both want to get rid of it. Both would outright say “I guess trust is a good thing”. But neither of them is yet ready to actually believe it.

Yes, Namaari brings her crossbow, but she’s not taunting Raya; she’s apologizing. This time, she knows she’s doing something wrong, but she can’t bring herself to do the right thing yet either.

Meanwhile, this is Raya’s big chance to show that she’s learned the movie’s lesson. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that Namaari brought the crossbow. Your ex enemy doesn’t immediately become a friend just because you wrote a letter, and that wasn’t the point of the letter. The point is this, here: It is Raya’s chance to convince Namaari to do the right thing. And that was always going to require Raya placing a certain amount of blind faith in Namaari. Raya needs to tolerate Namaari’s aggression long enough to convince her. The movie makes it clear that she has an actual chance of making it work.

But Raya can’t bring herself to trust Namaari long enough. She knows she should, but she hasn’t internalized this yet. And so she gets aggressive and escalates a situation that she always knew was going to be tense.

For both of them, this moment is the test: Have they learned the lesson of the movie yet? Both of them fail miserably. And wow, do they get punished for it.

What follows is the low point of the movie, where both of their world views are shattered completely. Their old cynicism is gone, their new hope and trust is destroyed, and now all that’s left is depression and blind rage. The movie helpfully points this out by giving us some extreme backlighting, making the entire fight between the two almost monochrome. The characters have basically lost all color and nuance, and are now just shadowy silhouettes, because that’s what their emotional state is right now. Yes, the folks at Disney do know what they’re doing.

Namaari is the one to say this out loud. That’s why she doesn’t care if Raya kills her. And Raya realizes the same. That’s why she doesn’t kill Namaari; not because she cares, but because she doesn’t anymore.

Then some time later we get a do-over: The same situation again; the stakes even higher, success even less certain. And this time, Raya has realized her mistake; now she has full faith in the theme of the movie. This time she is open to Namaari, she is patient with her, and instead of being aggressive or guarded, she isn’t showing any resistance to anything anymore. And when she turns to stone, she is smiling. Because now Raya knows that even if it doesn’t work, she’s still doing the right thing, and that matters the most.

It takes Namaari a few moments more to get there herself. She even briefly considers leaving, through the small but unstable way out that exists for her. But she can’t; not because the way out falls, but because she hesitates too long. Raya’s faith in the theme of the movie worked, and she did convince Namaari, even if Namaari hasn’t yet realized it herself. Finally, of course, she does realize that Raya has already won her over, and she does the right thing after all. And when she turns to stone, she’s kind of okay with it as well.

And of course we get literally the same moment we had in Finding Nemo or, even more literally, Frozen, where it seems like it didn’t work, and the faith in the theme of the movie was misplaced. Plus, in this case, we get to appreciate some incredibly beautiful subsurface scattering on the stone statues (meaning the way the light partially filters through the edges). Seriously, the graphics in this movie are amazing. You’re doing yourself no favors by being too jaded to appreciate the finer pixels in life.

Of course, as Mr Mazin said, faith in the theme rewards, and everything turns out fine and it’s all peace, happiness and pancake, as we say here in Germany.

But the crucial part is that this high point of the movie works because we previously had the low point; because we previously saw it go wrong. Not just the world at large, but both main characters. It’s their third, final chance, when both have finally learned their lesson.

If you want to assign blame like a traffic accident, to decide which percentage gets paid by whose insurance, yeah, maybe Namaari gets more of it. But narratively, Sisu’s temporary death happens because both characters failed, and both need to fix it together.

#raya #raya and the last dragon #rayaari #update: actually included the link instead of just talking about it

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 11)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

Warnings: Cookies and idiots. You might get diabetes.

N/A: I'm on a family trip right now so I'm being a little unactive but I'll do my best to be still updating on here. Thank you so much to everyone who reads and comments, you truly make me want to write twice as much.

The Dark Team: (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi )

“Are you sure that’s how you should be sending those?”. His nosy ass telling you how to do your job in your midgardian electronics was just amazing, truly. “It would be faster for them if you send it with that link instead of…”.

“Listen, Mischief”, you interrupted his unnecessary corrections “I don’t tell you how to levitate, what about you don’t tell me how to do this?”.

“I don’t levitate”.

“Not the point. This is my deal. Besides, since when and how do you know how to handle midgardian tech?”.

“I… I’m bored”.

“Do I look like an entertainment to you right now?”.

“What do you mean right now? Are you planning on entertaining me later?”.

“I will choke you if you keep doing that”.

“Do you promise?”.

"Yes, my dear".

"Can't wait, then", he smirked. You rolled your eyes, about to answer something snappy, but the work was more important at the moment.

Your phone beeped, pulling you out of the very one sided discussion. You went back to your work in silence, getting your full focus and concentration on it. If it weren’t for Loki, you would’ve already done a thousand more other things. But, as a bug on the lenses, he was stuck to your side. It seemed like you were babysitting him.

Peter was staring at the roof from the couch. A pile of homework laid by his side, untouched, and his unlocked phone seemed to be waiting for him to make a call he didn’t want to. Loki observed him, unsure if it was a good idea to ask. You looked at his uncertainty from over your shoulder, and watched him finally give up on the idea of socially interacting with the kid, sitting down by your side on the big, big (and, exaggeratingly pointing out, big; yet he sat in the nearest chair from you) table.

The compound certainly was a boring place when uninhabited, and the sun was already teasing with coming down, making the common room’s lights turn brighter and warmer. Maybe it was automatic, maybe it was Friday. You couldn’t care less, for you were too distracted by Loki’s gaze on your work.

“Loki, for fuck’s sake, would you stop staring, my dearest?”, you asked, imitating his tone of voice, hoping it’d make it less aggressive and a bit more fun. He rolled his eyes and smirked, understanding your intentions. You sounded as tired of him as you were.

“I’m...”.

“Bored, I know. What about you go entertain Pete? He looks equally, if not more, bored as you. And you’re interfering with my work, which I do not appreciate very much”.

“How am I supposed to entertain him? I’m not a clown”, he argued, slightly offended but just wanting to make time and conversation. You sighed.

“Then why do you act like one?”.

“What is that supposed to mean? Is that a midgardian insult I’m not aware of, pancake?”.

“Stop calling me that, it’s not derogative”.

“It wasn’t intended to be deroga…”.

“I’d kill for some pancakes”, interrupted Peter, trying to pull you two out of your quarrels. “Or something sweet”.

“Oh, the kid got peckish. This is perfect; you can go get him something sweet and leave my workspace alone”, you said, patting his back with an exhausted grin.

He rolled his eyes, but walked down to the kitchen looking for whatever could satiate Peter. There wasn’t anything. One would think that a billionaire would have the fridge full of chocolates, wouldn’t you?, he thought, exhausted by the idea of having to actually leave the compound to get him something. Last time he tried to buy something in Midgard, he accidentally paid three salaries to the workers in the name of Stark. He was so embarrassed, he said it was on purpose and called it an act of mischief. But it was, in fact, pure and raw unawareness of midgardian’s use of money.

“What about we bake something, Mr. Loki?”, proposed Peter, with a flaming interest in seeing what those magic hands could do with food. You chuckled, pretty sure they could do nothing; he had been a prince for over a thousand years, when could he have learnt to bake by himself?

Loki lowered his gaze, confronted with both thoughts of his companions, and their respective expectations. Truth was, you were right. But he couldn't disappoint the kid like that, he had to at least try. Peter's eyes shone brighter than ever, and you wondered if Loki was actually enjoying his company. They looked fine. And, finally, you had some space to work without distractions.

“In normal circumstances I’d reject you, spider boy, but since y/n seems to be about to hang me by the neck on the tip of the tower, might as well do this”, he said, stealing a glance at you and smirking.

“It’s an honor you decide to spend your last moments baking with me, Mr. Loki”.

“Sure, let’s go, child”.

“I’m not a child”.

“Alright”.

And just like that, they left the working area and moved to the kitchen. Both rooms were connected by a huge glassless window and a counter, so you were able to peep in and make sure they didn’t actually burn down the compound (which was the only rule Tony had) and work peacefully at the same time.

After what seemed like an eternity, they still couldn’t accept they were failing miserably, and kept stirring the mix in a bowl. Flour formed clouds around them as Peter sneezed it away, and Loki’s hair had some cream on his (now not so) impeccable hair. Peter laughed at Loki’s commentary and poor baking skills, and Loki playfully mocked how his stickiness wasn’t helpful at all.

“Have you ever baked before, Mr. Loki?”.

“I haven’t but I’ve seen people bake, I figured I could imitate them”.

“Your mum, right? I used to bake with my aunt May a lot, but just now I realize maybe she was doing everything and I was eating the dough by her side”.

“That sounds more like it”, he chuckled. The mixing bowl trembled in his hand as he got distracted by the flying eggs coming at him, and it slipped out of him, smashing near half the mix onto the floor. “Oh, fuck”.

“It’s fine, we can use the one that’s left!”.

“Your positiveness astonishes me, spider boy”.

“Spider man”.

“Right, apologies”.

“We have already put in the flour, the sugar, the eggs, the milk… What else is in the recipe?”.

“I’m trying to remember, let me see”, he closed his eyes and muttered to himself “they used cinnamon, I think. And maybe butter? Yes, and chocolate chips”.

“Who?”.

“Ah, this recipe isn’t my mum’s. She didn’t bake either, you know, Queens don’t get their hands dirty” he laughed. “It was my companion’s”, he spat and suddenly realized what he had said. He lowered his head and sighed.

“Your companion?”, asked Peter. “As in partner? A spouse?”.

“Not spouse, just… you know, I’m just realizing I shouldn’t be talking to you about it”, he brushed it off, absolutely regretting it. Because Peter, unlike any other person, lacked filters.

So he would ask and ask and not realize where to stop. And at that point you could say Peter had become some sort of a weakness in Loki’s roughness. Peter was the softest, purest and better intentioned person he had ever met (or at least that’s how he saw him; of course, Loki had never seen him in action, fighting crime), and Loki was incapable of actually denying things to him. It didn’t matter how much Peter insisted on not being seen as a child, Loki was a thousand years older.

“No, please do. Now you’ve caught my attention”, he insisted, trying to clean some of the dough from the floor. Loki sighed, watching how the kid begged him to tell him more from his feet. “Please, Mr. Loki, I swear I won’t tell”.

“Well, my lover was the one who used to cook for us”, he explained as if he was telling someone else’s story. He clearly was trying to disengage his own emotions in order to tell them out loud. “And they’d usually bake some kick-ass cinnamon cookies”.

Peter had to grab the counter to steady himself from laughter, and you couldn’t help to snort at the conversation you were indiscreetly eavesdropping. Loki smiled.

“Then we have to replicate them, if they’re so kick-ass to make you say a midgardian expression”.

“We must, but I can’t remember quite well the next steps. It’s all sort of a blur now”.

“Can’t we ask them?”.

“No”, he said quickly. The air tensed, and untensed as fast as he realized. He especified again, trying to sound less affected by it “we can’t”.

“Oh”, Peter sounded so disappointed, Loki’s heart broke a little. “Are they dead?”.

“Oh my God, Pete, you can’t just ask…”, you intervened, trying to save Loki from further discomfort.

“It’s okay, they’re… well, they’re gone”, he said with a soft voice, raising his eyebrows as who tries to explain to a little kid why their fish is upside down, leaving to the imagination the typical trace of sadness that would follow. His eyes focused on the mixing bowl, reminiscing another time, another way. Eyes of someone who tries his best to never forget the little details from someone who’s not here anymore, because memories are all he has left. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts and tried to play it cool. “But guess who’s not gone? This dough on the floor. Let’s clean it up, kid”.

“Gone as in dead?”, insisted Peter, who had a very poor self control. You would’ve grabbed your face with eight hands if you could.

“Peter, don’t…”.

“Yes, they’re dead. Inside a coffin, rotting, getting eaten by worms. You know”, said Loki, this time jokingly, trying to scare off Peter. But it didn’t work, since Peter just kept asking about it. Loki was already too tired of having to take his brain yet again to places he didn’t want them to be.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Loki. Must be very painful”. The empathy in his eyes gave Loki the hint that he was not only being sincere, but curious about Loki's life. Interested, engaged. Not just morbidly curious, but wanting to get to know him better. Unfortunately, Loki couldn’t allow that. He would have to get the mission done, not make any friends, and go back to Asgard as alone as he came. It was the deal, the price he had to pay, the invisible handcuffs, the imaginary rope tying around his neck. Tightly, tightly, tighter.

“It’s alright, it was long ago”.

“Was they Asgardian, like you?”.

“I’m not actually Asgardian. I was raised there, but I’m from Jotunheim”.

Loki managed to move the conversation further than his lover (which he regretted highly to have brought the subject in the first place), and Peter got more and more interested in confirming how many of his mythology stories were true or not. The kitchen was the warmest place in the whole compound, and something started to smell like burnt sugar.

“So you did actually make Sif, Thor’s wife, bald? And did he make you go get her a wig in Svárthelfeim?”, he asked at the speed of light, and Loki laughed.

“Lady Sif’s not actually Thor’s betrothed. And no, I didn’t make her bald”, he said, and then muttered “she just happened to have a very low quality shampoo”.

“Ah, the cookies!”, Peter turned off the stove and took them out carefully, as to not get burned (again).

Loki peeped through the window to check on you. Your head, laying tiredly over your hands, seemed to be about to give up on you out of exhaustion. You haven’t slept properly since the mission started, and you couldn’t get your head off work for a moment. He approached you from behind and left a fresh cup of coffee and a couple of warm cookies by your side. You smiled at him gently and thanked him. If it wasn’t him you were talking about, you could’ve swore he blushed.

You have gotten so tranquil after one simple gesture, you hoped to get all your nerves down before going to sleep. Maybe it wasn’t that bad to have been stuck with them in the compound. They seemed to be having a good time, and Loki had nothing on his mind more than to have a rest after such hectic days.

“How long until you finish there?”, he asked with a low voice, a raspy, almost groany voice, that made you want to shut your computer down and throw it out of the window. You didn’t, instead, you checked your clock.

“Very soon, I’ll join you guys in a bit”.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki headcanon #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x avenger!reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #mcu loki #peter parker #y/n

[soulmate-game]

Okay, I’m not sure if what I was trying to say in my last post was said very well.

I completely understand the tagging situation from the First Wave with the DC fans. That’s discourse that is mostly solved and we can’t do anything about those who are forever gonna be bitter or lazy. I’m not talking about that stuff.

The stuff I want to prevent/limit is the hate that comes after our fandom deliberately. And yes, I know I can’t stop it. None of us can stop bitter, antagonistic people from being bitter and antagonistic. None of us can stop people who just want to be angry.

I’m not talking about stopping them, though.

I’m talking about what we can do to protect ourselves as creators and consumers in this fandom. As people who love and appreciate what the creations and people in this fandom have to offer. In simplistic form, I’m saying we need to learn how to shield ourselves from bullies. And there are methods we can use to make ourselves less of a target to the people who go after us, and methods to cut their attacks off short. None of these methods are fool-proof, but they will work to filter out a good majority of the shit we would otherwise be showered by, like a big umbrella against Assholery. Sure, the wind might still blow some in our face and we might splash in a puddle or two by accident, but at least we aren’t soaked.

So let me list the various things that can help you shield yourself from hate/harassment/antis who might just be out to get you.

1) leave the fandom.

The most effective, but least attractive method possible. This is limited to being a last ditch effort, if things have just gotten too hard to handle. I’m covering it first though, because we have to acknowledge that it is a viable method. If you feel trapped, hated, bullied, I’m sure all of us in this fandom would prefer you take a break and leave us for a while in the sake of your own health and safety then stay where you are miserable. This is less of a problem for us though, because mostly this option is gonna be for fandoms where the discourse and attacks are internal. Maribat is largely a peaceful and supportive/healthy environment once you’re inside our little bubble, the main discourse comes from outside in. So let’s focus on the main point of this post— how to keep our bubble from popping.

2) Make it apparent right away that you are Unapologetic.

Whenever you post content or are approached by someone about the topic of your fandom, don’t you DARE ever apologize for liking what you like or posting unproblematic content. You need to make it clear right off the bat that you are not gonna be swayed, bullied, or shamed out of your fandom. Stand with pride and make it clear, but don’t be verbose about it. A simple “Don’t like, don’t read” is classic but sometimes if you’re posting/talking during a more confrontational period of the fandom, you need to up your game to reflect that. The funny thing is, people can easily be intimidated by swearing if it isn’t directed at them or clearly antagonistic. If you’re swearing in a joking, casual or even in a manner that shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously, people will usually avoid picking fights with you. For this, my favorite lines to use on my work include;

“Don’t like, I don’t fucking care. I fell down the rabbit hole.”

“Don’t bother reading if you’re not into this, this shit bitch-slapped me and dragged me along on it’s adventure.”

“I’m addicted to this fandom, don’t bother trying to save me. If it bothers you, I don’t give a fuck. Save yourselves.”

3) Don’t approach or interact

Unless someone comes at you first, never try to persuade someone away from hating us. That just makes you a target in an empty field, for the vultures to surround and gang up on. If someone approaches you with provocative but not overly insulting or intelligent language— I.e; trying to start a fight, vague insults not always relating to the fandom itself, trying to insult your character/judgement— do not respond. Delete the message, block the account, and surround yourself with fluffy good stuff to forget the wanna-be harasser. These people are often not brave enough to outright start a fight, and want you to get defensive first so they know the weak points in your armor to exploit. Defensive statements declare your own insecurities, don’t get defensive. It gives them a way to win without having to defend themselves or feel vulnerable— it’s like exploiting type differences in Pokémon. You wait for an unfamiliar Pokémon to expose it’s type, then snipe it with the moves it’s weak to. Then, you have a near sure-fire win even with under leveled Pokémon on your team.

Don’t be a proud Infernape that gets sniped by a weak-ass level 5 Piplup. We’re strong, don’t show them the chinks in our armor.

4) Have a support network. Even if they don’t know they are your support network.

The fandom as a whole serves this purpose, and this is mostly gonna be a tactic you use when the discourse is inside the fandom, but there can be uses for this in discourse from outside the fandom as well. If someone tries to act like they like your story/art “but...” they passive aggressively state things they “would prefer” or they try to make it sound like you made stupid mistakes (a tactic to make you insecure about yourself) instead of kindly pointing out errors or offering constructive criticism (ex: “you know you put your trigger list somewhere where it’s useless right? Love your story though.)—THESE ARE ALL PROVOCATIONS. They are trying to make you insecure so that you change things about yourself, your work, or jump through hoops to try to “make it up” to them when you did nothing wrong and there are no problems to fix. Do not fall for it! Instead, politely as possible, bring the issue into a public space where you feel safe/trust the people in that space to keep the bullshit from escalating. For me, I straight up explain my reasoning for the placement of my trigger list as if I’m advertising a particularly boring but important product that I’m selling, then offer places for them to bring the issue into a discussion with others. I send them to a discoed group or right here to my tumblr, and I immediately make the issue into a big discussion (do YOU think there is anything to change? Let’s ALL talk about it) so that I am no longer isolated and easy for them to harass. They might refuse to join the discussion and further try to pressure you, but do not cave. Merely say that a public discussion has been started, and if they are actually, legitimately concerned about the way you do things then they can debate it in a public setting. This way, you have back up. 9/10 people who try to target you this way will back off and never enter the conversation you started.

5) Do not fight back.

This sounds counterintuitive, but a lot of the time once discourse gets this bad, arguing/defending/ trying to prove your point only fuels their rage more. I have found that people hate very little in this world more than they hate being wrong. And people who hate being wrong will fight to the bitter death about their opinions, no matter how invalid or hurtful they are, in the favor of their blissful ignorance. Remove yourself from harmful discussions or those that seem to be going in circles as soon as possible, and try to surround yourself in your support group. Never let people make you feel stupid, your opinions illegitimate, or your likes/dislikes invalid or evil.

6) Try to learn how to recognize bullies in disguise

It’s too much for me to try to cover here, but you need to PLEASE look into how to spot gaslighting. Tactics of gaslighting are often used to attack others and try to make them feel like their own opinions are invalid or their mindset untrustworthy. People will often approach you in the guise of friendship/support/ “I am not into this, but...” and while this is not always a red flag, we have to keep our eyes open for any signs of this person or their approach being rooted in anything other than legitimate curiosity or kindness. Not all suggestions that say they are out of concern actually ARE. Keep an eye out for warning signs, and cut off interaction once things seem like they may lead to an argument or you being in a vulnerable position if you continue interacting.

(Brief mention of s**cide and threats in the section below)

7) If all else fails, BLOCK THEM.

No hesitation, we don’t need this shit. They make a second account? Block that too. Don’t respond, only take screenshots or reblog if it is directly harmful information that can/should be documented (words that encourage suicide, threats, insults that seem a little too specific for comfort) and give the evidence to someone you trust to look out for you. A therapist, a family member, or even the authorities if you deem that necessary. Just don’t handle it alone.

We are not responsible for other people’s actions, opinions, or anger. Take the steps to protect yourself instead of trying to reconcile. Sometimes, reconciliation isn’t an option. Both parties have to be willing to reconcile, and it is clear they have nothing in mind but hurting us. So raise your shields and protect yourself and your friends, we’re not gonna lose a war to petty jerks.

#tw: harassment #bully prevention #bullying prevention #steps to protect yourself #maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (ch. 5)

tw: Pining, mentions of stripping (playful)

Word count: ~2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

AN: There is an official Lockscreens Spotify playlist! Please feel free to give it a listen 💖

Masterlist | prev | next

ch. 5: Best Friends (19 weeks)

The blaring sound abruptly drew him out of his deep slumber. “What?” He muttered, rubbing his face.

“Kurooooo,” she whined. “I need your help.” He furiously blinked, trying to rub the sleep away.

“What’s up?”

“I have these super bad cravings, do you mind picking it up and getting it for me?” 

Kuroo sighed deeply. “This is what you decided to wake me up for?” He groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.

“Please? I’d owe you one! And you’re awake already.”

“You owe me a lot more than just one, kitten,” he warned. “What on Earth are you craving right now?”

“I really want dark chocolate covered blueberries and a salmon onigiri. Oh! And maybe some meat buns.” An exclamation. “Maybe peaches too!” 

He blinked. “What?”

She let out a loud whine. “Kuroo! Don’t judge me! It’s what the baby wants, okay?”

“I’m not judging that’s just..super particular. Alright fine, I’ll pick it up and head over.”

“You’re literally the best! Love you~!” And with that, she hung up. The rush of blood filled his ears as those words echoed in his ears. He pinched his nose, breathing deeply. Glancing down at his phone, he looked at the time. 2:26 A.M. She really had such inconvenient timing. At this rate, he wasn’t going to get sleep until at least 4 A.M. His eyes glided down, looking at his lock-screen. A smile tugged at his lips at the familiar face. It was a photo of (Name) laughing, her navy peacoat draped over her shoulders and the collar of her dress pulled up. Kuroo had taken the photo when they went on their fancy dinner over a month ago.  

He sighed, wiping his face with a hand as he got up. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d be back in bed. With one last grumble, he slid into a pair of sweats and an old volleyball hoodie as he made his way out of his apartment.

****

“The doctor did tell you last week that your cravings were going to get worse,” Kuroo teased as she opened the door for him. He’d visited four different convenience stores to find everything on her list. She ignored him, snatching the plastic bag out of his hands. (Name) waddled over to her sofa, plopping down as she rummaged through the bag. She pulled out the meat bun and onigiri, holding one in each hand as she took savage bites out of them.

“Oh my god, this is incredible,” she moaned, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. 

“Oh yes, please do that again, I just love hearing that,” Kuroo teased.

“Shut up rooster-head.” (Name) swallowed, pulling out the peach drink he got her. “Aw, Kuroo! You got me my favorite, you’re literally the best.” He shrugged, taking a seat beside her. He reached for the bag, only to have his hand smacked away. “No! Mine.”

“I literally brought it for you!” He argued. “Let me get my food, woman.” She pouted, before pushing the bag towards him. He laughed at the familiar sight.

It was post-practice during their third-year. Kuroo and Kenma were joining (Name) at her house for their weekly movie night. “Ooh, can we stop by the convenience store?”

“Didn’t you just eat?” Kuroo teased. She had eaten her second bento while they were taking a break during practice.

“So? If you guys are coming over to watch movies, we should have snacks!” She argued, stopping directly in front of the store. “Do you guys want anything?”

“I’m okay.” Kenma replied, barely glancing up. Kenma sat down on the bench as he continued playing on his DS.

“Suit yourself!” She grinned. “How about you, Kuroo?”

“I’ll go pick for myself, thank you.” They walked inside. “Knowing you, you’d pick something weird for me.” 

“Hey, don’t you trust me?”

“No.” 

She giggled, tapping his nose before skipping away. “You should! I practically raised you, y’know?”

“And why do you think that?”

“Well, I did save your ass in English,” she teased, squatting down to survey the snacks at the bottom row. 

“Yeah well, you needed help in science. It cancels there.” 

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you love me. And with love, comes trust!” 

His heart skipped a beat. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.” She rolled her eyes at his term of endearment. Kuroo picked up a bag of chips, choosing some more snacks as they made their way down the aisle. “What’s on the agenda for movies?”

(Name) hummed, paying for her snacks as they made their way outside. “Depends! I’m open for whatever.” She tugged Kenma off the bench before skipping off in front of them. Kuroo and Kenma stood beside one another as they trailed behind. Kuroo’s soft smile was not missed by the younger boy as he observed the female, (h/c) hair blowing back as she skipped. She hummed a tune from (favorite song) as she unlocked the door, dropping the snacks onto the table as she gestured to the couch. “Make yourselves comfortable!”

“Don’t we always?” Kenma muttered, sliding onto the reclining seat as (Name) bustled around to clean up the couch a bit. Kuroo plopped down onto the couch, kicking his legs up onto the table. She smacked his legs to make them fall off, ignoring his cry of indignation. 

“I’ll be right back!” She ran upstairs towards her room. 

“When are you going to tell her?”

Kuroo jumped, looking at his male best friend. “Tell her what?”

“That you have a thing for her.”

Kuroo’s cheeks flushed red. “No I don’t!”

“Sure. You totally weren’t watching her with a dopey smile either.” Kenma rolled his eyes, aggressively using combo moves in order to defeat the boss. “You’ve been in love with her for years now, we all know.”

Kuroo blanched. “Does she?”

“Nah, she’s just as dumb as you are when it comes down to it.” 

“Why the hell am I coming down to Kenma saying that I’m dumb?” (Name) pouted, blankets bundled in her arms as she appeared at the doorway. Kuroo jumped, his blood freezing and heart clenching. “Not that I’m saying Kuroo isn’t, but I definitely am not!” 

“Yes you are.” 

Kuroo let out a high-pitched laugh, earning an odd look from (Name). Kenma just shook his head in distaste. “Is that all you heard?”

“Rude, Kenma! And yes, rooster-head, that’s all I heard.” She plopped down on the couch, spreading the blanket over their laps. Kuroo let out a sigh of relief as (Name) turned to Kenma, raising her brow. “So, pudding-pop, why am I dumb?”

“You’re just always dumb.” She leaned over to playfully shove him, causing Kenma to mess up. “(Name)!” He swore, glaring at the girl. Kuroo leaned down for the snack bag, only to have his hand smacked away by (Name). He glared at her as she rummaged through the bag, pulling out her own snacks before she handed him the bag.

“That’s your own fault, pudding-pop.” She laughed, before she leaned back against Kuroo. The captain’s heart lurched as he looked down. Her head was practically resting on his chest, her warmth seeping through his clothes to his heart. If loving someone felt like this, then he definitely didn’t mind.  

She glanced at the clock, finishing the last of the snacks and throwing the trash into the bag. “There’s no reason for you to go home; I’d feel terrible if you drove home this late.” She bit her lip. “Why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight?” Kuroo looked at her, his eyebrows raised. When they were in middle-school, it wasn’t uncommon for them to share a bed. But once they had gotten to high-school, they were forced out of the habit— mainly due to rising hormones and fear of what others would think of them.

“Are you sure?” He hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Just get in there, you big dummy.” She rolled her eyes, making her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She paused, standing in the doorway. Her eyes sparkled slightly as she looked at him. “Thanks for coming, Kuroo. I appreciate it.” She mumbled. 

Kuroo grinned, “I’m just glad to be of service.” He stood up, brushing his pants as he slipped into her bedroom. Hazel eyes surveyed the room, it wasn’t that different from before. Her desk was neat and organized, there were medicinal posters up on her walls, and there were soft golden fairy-lights dangling along the side of the wall. He undressed, leaving him in his boxers as he slipped under the covers. The mattress was so soft, he’d have to ask her where she got it. The sound of running water turned off, and the clicks of light-switches caught his attention. He glanced at the glowing red numbers on her desk. It was already 4:40 A.M. Thank god it was the weekend tomorrow. The door opened, and she entered. 

“Ugh, I forgot how big you are,” she grimaced, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “Budge up, will ya?” She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt, black panties peeking out from under them. 

“And you’re hardly wearing clothes,” he taunted before scooting over.

“Oi, my house, my rules. If you’re gonna be weird about it, you’re more than welcome to sleep on the sofa.” He simply tsk’d in response, lifting the blanket up so that she could slide in beside him. “You say I’m hardly wearing anything, Kuroo you’re not even wearing a shirt!” She whined, her hand brushing against his chest. 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he teased, blowing air onto her face. 

“Don’t be such a prick.” 

“Goodnight princess.” 

A hum in response as her breathing got heavier. “G’night, Tetsu.” His heart stuttered.

****

(Name) groaned as the light filtered into the room, falling onto her face. She felt so warm and comfortable. Her attention was drawn to a weight on her waist. (E/c) eyes blinked at the chest that it was pressed against. Pulling back slightly, she looked up to see Kuroo’s sleeping face, a pillow pressed against his head. She stifled a giggle, taking in how relaxed the male looked. A sudden urge hit her. Oh shit, gotta pee, her eyes widened. Wiggling out of his arms carefully, she waddled to the bathroom. She might be pregnant, but the gods help her because she absolutely refused to have any sort of accident. 

 As she returned to her room, she couldn’t help but lean against the bed-frame as she looked down at his peaceful face. 

“Kuroo, I don’t understand this,” she whined, burying her face in her palms. They’d been studying for hours now. 

“What don’t you understand?” 

“I keep getting the wrong answers.” With one hand, she shoved the book towards him, plopping her head onto the desk. “Can I just drop out of school and become a stripper?” 

“No,” a bemused smile crossed his face, “it’s your last year. This is literally just high-school chemistry, that I’m helping you with. There will be no stripping here!” 

She grunted into her arms. “You’re right, I doubt anyone would wanna see that anyways.” 

Kuroo shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not true.” 

(Name) lifted her face, freezing. He was so close. All she’d need to do is lean forward just a little bit. “Are you saying you would?” She breathed. 

“Maybe.” He licked his lips, eyes wide. “Or maybe not. Maybe I just don’t want my best friend putting herself out like that.” Hazel eyes darted down to her lips. She could practically feel his lips against hers. 

They sprung apart as the door suddenly crashed open, revealing Lev. “Senpai, I need help studying!” 

“You gotta be quiet when you’re studying, you dumbass,” Kuroo retorted, cheeks slightly red. “Otherwise you bother everyone like you always do.”

“Don’t be mean to the baby tree,” (Name) scolded, her cheeks also glowing. 

“Why are your faces red?” Lev cocked his head.

“It’s just hot in here,” (Name) stammered, sitting up straighter. “How can I help you study, Lev?” Lev plopped into the chair beside her, pushing his books towards her as he explained his issues. In the corner of her eyes, she surveyed Kuroo. Did they really almost kiss?    

She shook her head, making her way back to her kitchen. She couldn’t be catching feelings now. Not for her best friend while she’s pregnant with her boyfriend’s— ex-boyfriend’s?— baby. She didn’t even want to think about how they were also best friends with one another. Silently, she wondered if these were feelings that she’d always secretly suppressed. It’s not like she’d never had a crush on Kuroo before. She’d had one when they were still in middle school, and she’d always assumed those were just one of those things that happened. With a more aggressive shake of her head, (Name) stepped into the kitchen, taking things out to make pancakes. As she hummed a familiar tune, cracking eggs into a bowl, she jumped. Warm arms snaked around her waist, a chest meeting her back.  

“Well aren’t you cuddly this morning?” She chuckled, patting one of his arms affectionately. Kuroo just tightened his grip, burying his face into her shoulder. His breath warmed the back of her neck. 

“Sleepy,” he muttered. “I blame you.”

(Name)’s giggle filled the kitchen, sounding like a windchime swaying in the breeze. “You didn’t have to help.” He awkwardly shrugged, tightening his grip as he rubbed his face into her shoulder, dangerously close to her neck. Goose-bumps raced along her skin. She leaned back in his caress, closing her eyes. The warmth of his body swept through her. “Hey, Kuroo?” He hummed in response. “Do you wanna move in?”

“Huh?” He rubbed his face into her shoulder, hiding his burning cheeks. Hoping that she couldn’t feel it. “Move in?” 

“Yeah.” She hesitated. “I mean, you’re always over. And I feel bad calling you to come over late at night.” She took a deep breath. “It’s also kinda lonely, y’know? Like it’s basically just me here by myself after living here with Kou for so long.” 

“That’s the last of the boxes, babe!” 

“Finally!” Bokuto collapsed onto the couch, letting out a massive sigh. “That took so long.”

“That’s what happens when you move somewhere,” she giggled, perching herself beside him. (Name) looked affectionately around the house. After an entire day of moving things in, they’d unpacked (most) of their boxes. It was the end of their first year of college, and they’d decide to move off-campus into their own house for some privacy for the upcoming school-year. Excitement pulsed through her. She and Bokuto had just celebrated their first anniversary after years of friendship, and things had never been easier. Of course, the couple had their issues. Bokuto had issues balancing his school-work with club volleyball, and she’d been so overwhelmed with her classes and internship that it was difficult for them to find time together. But, it was all worth it in the end. Now, she’d fall asleep and wake up beside the love of her life every day. “Kou, what do you want for dinner?”

“I’m too lazy to eat,” Bokuto groaned, draping an arm over his eyes. She patted his arm.

“Too lazy to eat? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that,” (Name) teased, elbowing him slightly. “Ah well, if you’re too lazy, maybe I’ll go get dinner all by myself. Alone. In our new neighborhood.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. 

She made a move to stand, only for arms to snake around her and throw her into the couch. (Name) giggled loudly, blinking up into golden pools as Bokuto hovered over her. He peppered kisses all around her face. “Let’s order in, and just spend our first night in our new home together, okay?” He murmured, brushing her hair away from her face as he drew her into a soft kiss. “Besides, I want to spend time with the love of my life in the place where we’ll raise our kids.” She gaped, tears welling up. His eyes were shut as he nudged her nose with his. 

“Kids?”

He flushed, pulling back. “Well yeah, I wanna have kids with you.” He pulled her hand up to his lips, kissing the promise ring that sat there. “I promised you forever, didn’t I?” Arms wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to her as she slotted her lips against his.

“God I love you,” she whispered in between kisses. 

“Y’know, this is a perfect time to break in that new bed,” he grinned.

“Kou!” She squealed, smacking his chest. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared at him. Her heart had never felt so warm. 

“Are you sure?” Kuroo pulled back, turning her so that she was facing him. “I don’t want to intrude.” 

She nodded. “Yeah. If anything, we can put a bed in the nursery for now and you can stay there so you have your own space.” (Name) offered him a small smile. “Is that okay?”  

“Well, if you insist,” Kuroo teased, tapping her nose. He grew serious. “I’d do anything for you, (Nickname).” 

She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re the best, Kuroo.”

Fun facts

💟 Kuroo sleeps with D.N.D. on except for notifications from Kenma and (Name).

💟 (Name) typically craves onigiri and meat buns. Other things she craves are her usual study-hangout-movie night snacks. 

💟 (Name) and Kenma both have a bad habit of staying up late. They usually call each other when they want company, but only Kuroo would actually get up and go visit one of them so late, so they’ll call him if they need something.

💟 Both Bokuto and Kuroo disagree about who introduced (Name) to her favourite peach drink. It was actually neither of them. Kenma introduced it to her during one of their movie nights. 

💟 Kenma had known that Kuroo was pining for (Name) for years. He was tired of hearing/seeing it and warned him that someone else would ask her out if he didn’t get a move on. Kenma also almost confessed to (Name) on Kuroo’s behalf

💟 The last time Kuroo and (Name) shared a bed was their first semester of high-school. When she told one of her girlfriends, they shamed her for it so she stopped letting Kuroo sleepover. 

💟 At training camp their first year, Kuroo forgot to pack a sleep shirt and wandered around Shinzen after curfew. (Name) was also out to get a drink of water and shrieked when she saw Kuroo because she thought he was a ghost.

💟 When Lev told the team about what he stumbled upon, he got his butt kicked by Yaku for cock-blocking. Lev was the only one on the team who didn’t realise the tension between (Name) and Kuroo. 

💟 Bokuto randomly surprised (Name) with the keys to their new house after enlisting Akaashi’s help to plan and organise everything. 

AN: Officially switched my update day to Thursdays! Please feel free to pop into my inbox if you have any questions, comments, or concerns 💞 I love interacting with you all!

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora  @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother@toobsessedsstuff  @setterfish @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91  @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed@samkysnks @dolan-mendes​  @loudpoetry23

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Please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💞

#bokuto #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto angst #bokuto koutarou fluff #bokuto koutarou angst #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou angst #kuroo tetsurou fluff #kuro tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro angst #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro fluff #bokuto koutaro angst #koutarou bokuto x reader #koutaro bokuto x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsuro

[saltpepperbeard]

An Open Fandom Discussion

Hello hello! Goodness, I haven’t made one of these posts in 84 years. Even though I have not been around as long as some others, I consider myself to be quite the Fandom Veteran. I’ve been here since 2013, and with that, I have seen all walks of unrest/drama over the years. Shipping wars, character debates, story policing, you name it. Some have been lighthearted (coughs at aPPLESAUCE 2K14), and others have lead to individuals actually leaving the fandom.

And of course the year of Satan 2020 would have drama starting up ‘round these parts once more. But I’m here to say that it doesn’t have to be that way at all. It SHOULDN’T have to be that way.

I know I speak for nearly everyone when I say we’re simply here to enjoy a franchise we love. We’re here for the friendly discussions, the artwork, the gifsets, the manipulations, the meta, the fandom-wide events, and the fanfiction. We’re here to share joy and merriment and solidarity over something we can all relate to. Many of us come here to escape, to relax and enjoy all the content this fandom has to offer.

That’s not to say there may be some differing opinions. Some people may be more into the debate side, and that’s totally fine! If you’re all for calling out inconsistencies within the series, or pointing out the nuances in a character, then go for it!

But I absolutely draw the line when those opinions start shifting towards singling out others. When people begin to feel alienated, or people begin to feel ashamed for what they enjoy, that’s when it starts to get unacceptable.

Now, don’t get me wrong. People are allowed to enjoy what they enjoy, and dislike what they dislike. They are allowed to post opinions on their own blog if they so please, or rant to others privately if they find certain topics bothersome. But the reason behind my post today, is that a blog has been created that falls within some sort of grey area, and has definitely lead to unrest/hurt feelings/damage over the past few days:

@hungergamestea.

Yup, I will directly call it out. Because in talking about it passive aggressively/indirectly, it furthers the problem this very blog is presenting.

In case you’re unaware, this blog runs entirely on anonymous submissions, with people posting their opinions about a range of topics. That’s all fine and dandy, and I actually followed the blog initially, thinking it was sort of like the tea sessions I have on my own blog. Ie, talking about characters, headcanons, what people like/dislike about aspects of the movie and books, etc! But I was instead stunned to see that it was a platform for people to anonymously point fingers at individuals in this fandom, and utterly crap on certain fanfiction genres/topics.

“But Jodi! You said people are allowed to say whatever they want on their own blog!” I did. But that’s why I believe this blog falls into a dangerous grey area. Yes, people are entitled to rant. Yes, people are allowed to dislike certain subject areas. But to post about them anonymously? To callout individuals directly in their asks? To shame people for liking something they read/write? What’s the point of that? How is giving a platform for anonymous hate okay?

“Jodi, people are allowed to hate things lmao.” True, but then...isn’t it way easier for those people to...avoid what they dislike, then? Or rant about it in their own, private spaces? What good does it do to anonymously rant about it on a blog allowing such? It does nothing but hurt the others who enjoy it. If people were off anon saying those things, it could perhaps allow for discussion/debate. But the anonymous wall detracts from any sort of discussion, and simply makes it a more hateful platform. It also gives people the more cowardly route of avoiding a blog/individual in question, and posting their contempt in an even more passive aggressive way.

It’s done nothing but upset people. It’s hurt people/made them feel ashamed for what they enjoy, and it’s lead to fiery fights between individuals. Many of my friends are hurting because of this, hence me feeling inspired enough to bring forth an ESSAY TM. I cannot stand for it when I see people I care about hurting/uncomfortable.

So then. I propose that, instead of reblogging or replying to the anonymous asks being presented there, we all just carry on with what we enjoy. We all just stick to our more positive things, and continue supporting one each other instead of dragging each other down. I know, it might be slightly hypocritical of me to give this blog attention when I’m calling for inattention, but I felt it was necessary to make people aware.

I’m also not 100% sure of the intent of this blog. I’ve been told some reasons, and if it was indeed created with the intent to stir up drama/harm others, then that really saddens me. If not however, and it was indeed created as nothing more than an “everything platform,” then I believe a bit of “screening” is called for. 

To the creators of hungergamestea, I implore you to turn the blog into a place of more friendly discussion. I feel as though individuals should be allowed to discuss things they don’t like, but in a more passive, eloquent manner. And also, NOT anything that harms another. Something like, “I personally feel like Katniss is characterized this way, even though it’s a bit of an unpopular opinion,” as opposed to “LMAO SOME PEOPLE ARE SO EGOTISTICAL” kind of thing. So yes, continue to take anonymous discussions by all means, but please filter out the ones that are intended to be callouts/attacks.

I know it could be viewed as “silencing” opinions/voices. But goodness, whatever happened to the mantra, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all?” What good does empty negativity do?

If individuals are so upset by something, they should take it up with the creator in private, or start a public discussion. Not post anonymous generalizations/assumptions on a blog, which more often than not prove to be FALSE anyway. Again, the anonymous wall proves to be nothing but hateful and damaging.

And, seeing as I titled this as an open discussion, I would like to hear other thoughts! And would also like to extend my support and care to everyone here. I’m not writing this to further any fighting. Rather, the opposite. I hate to see people upset here. I hate to see people fighting with each other. This is supposed to be a happy space, and a space of artful escape. Not a space where we tear each other down.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

#Jodi rambles #*WRITES AN ESSAY #Jodi GOES OFF lmao #Listen #l i s t e n #I really don't want to stir the pot more #I really don't #But I've seen people getting progressively more and more upset #I'm seeing FIGHTS y'all #I haven't seen fights since like what #2014? 2015? #I know I've missed quite a heaping helping of drama between those years and now but #My dude #We don't NEED this type of negativity in 2020 #We really really don't #Tumblr NEEDS to be a positive escape space right now more than ever #It NEEDS to be a place where people feel safe secure and happy #It does NOT need to be a place where someone comes on only to feel immensely disheartened and saddened by negativity #ANONYMOUS at that #Like dude #D u d e #This very much as the same energy as an anon I received a few years back #I had just published a story and someone came into my box and went #'I was so excited for your story! But then I read it and it was just okay. You've done better lmao' #Like...why #WHY #WHY SAY THAT #People don't REALIZE what they're saying #Because considering I can remember it all these years later...lmao #There's just NO reason for such negativity

[spookywitch13]

I am here for you

Secret Santa gift for @jellyfishdodraw! Also for the Duskwood Secret Santa page @christmaswithduskwood

It's based on the AU of MC being strong in front of others until Jake asks. This is placed somewhere in episode 5 partly 6. It is based on the aftermath of the video that Lilly uploaded. This is Fem!MC x Jake. It's not canon compliant since this definitely didn’t happen. Also I will fully admit I am not the best writer but I hope you enjoy it. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

Hate comment

Hate comment

Death threat

Hate comment

Death threat

Death threat

The comments and responses to the video that Lilly posted just keep coming in. Even after the video is removed they keep coming in on text messages, facebook posts, instagram messages, etc. I can’t seem to escape them. But I can’t let the others know about this because Jessy and possibly Jake would definitely try to kick Lilly’s ass. I scrub my hands against my face and get back to decoding the cloud storage.

*Jessy is Online*

Jessy: Hey MC!

MC: Hey

Jessy: How are you doing?

MC: I’m doing pretty well just looking for more clues. :)

Jessy: That’s good just try to take care of yourself as well and ignore that stupid video. Lilly is just trying to stir up trouble.

MC: Way ahead of you. 

Jessy: Ok that’s good just try to keep a positive mindset! You can always talk to me if you need to. <3 :)

Jessy: Oops got to get back to work we’ll talk later.

*Jessy is Offline*

I set my phone down as more notifications of comments and threats keep pouring in. Sighing I stare out my window dejected as my phone keeps pinging. Getting up and stretching my back I trudge into the kitchen intent on making myself some tea or other hot beverage. Something to comfort me as the messages keep piling in. 

*Jake’s Pov

“Ok I seem to be getting on the right track now, all I can do for now is let the program run and see what it finds.” I mutter to myself as I lean back from my computer. Running my hands through my hair I stare tiredly at the computer screen. “I wonder if MC is still up.”

Grabbing my phone I look to see if I have any new messages from her. Spotting a new message from a number that I don’t recognize I open it up.

Unknown: You two are absolutely SCUM of the Earth. HOW COULD YOU HURT THAT WOMAN!! I hope you both ROT in HELL for what you did!! Do you have no compassion for anyone?? What you two did was DEPLORABLE AND I HOPE YOU BOTH GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!

“Awesome, gotta love the people I get messages from,” I mutter, “Lilly why on earth did you think that video was a good idea.”

A sudden thought comes to my mind. Lilly didn’t just post my number she also posted MC’s number. Worry grabs at me as I glance at MC’s contact information. I don’t want to break her trust by looking at her messages without her permission but I also want to make sure that she isn’t getting messages like this. I’ll talk to her first.

*Jake is Online*

Jake: Hey, how are you?

*MC is Online*

MC: I’m good, how about you?

Ok maybe she isn’t getting the same messages as me. That’s good, I’ll gladly take the brunt of this to keep her safe and happy. Some people can get really aggressive with this kind of accusation flying around. The worry starts to ebb out of my body.

Jake: I’m alright, I just wanted to check in with you while I have some time. :)

MC: Can’t keep me off your mind? ;) 

MC: I’ve been just working on the cloud

Jake: Haha you can always make me smile. :)

*ping*

*ping*

*ping*

I glance away from the chat to see that I’m getting notified about a private conversation between MC and an unknown person. I freeze as part of the unknown sender’s message flashes across my phone screen. It’s a death threat. Fury and worry race through me as I click on the messages. 

*Spymode: MC and Unknown*

Unknown: I’ll find you and rip your head off if you don’t let that woman go back to her family!! How could you as a HUMAN BEING do this to another human being!! 

Unknown: We should just kidnap you to make you fear for your life like you are making this poor woman feel. You better watch yourself.

I watch as the messages just keep coming not just from this person but others. Hate comments and death threats from random strangers on the internet who have no idea what is actually going on. Concern fills my chest as I quickly realise that MC has been getting way more than me. Going back to my conversation with MC I realise that she’s been dealing with this without mentioning it to anyone.

MC: I’m feeling pretty drained today but I’m hoping to get a new file from Hannah’s cloud soon.

Jake: Ok just don’t overwork yourself, afterall where would I be without my partner in crime. ;)

MC: Haha good thing we’ll never know the answer to that.

MC: I’m gonna head to bed, have a goodnight Jake I hope you have a good night’s sleep.

Jake: Goodnight MC. Sweet dreams. :)

*MC is Offline*

*Jake is Offline*

“Time to get another pot of coffee going, I’ve got some work to do regarding these messages.” I mutter darkly as I glare at the unknown senders. No one is going to hurt MC and get away with it, not with me here. Time to put my skills to good use.

Grabbing a new cup of coffee I get to work on making sure that these people can’t reach her anymore on any platform that she’s a part of.

*MC’s Pov-The next day

Sun shines through my window waking me up. Ignoring my phone for a little bit I work on getting myself a cup of coffee. New day hopefully with no new messages. I gingerly grab my phone and take a deep breath.

“Ok time to face the music.” I mutter, turning it on and quickly glancing at the screen. 

NO NEW MESSAGES

“Oh thank goodness I get to have a little bit of good morning,” I say as I sip my coffee. Scrolling through my messages I quickly notice that all the hate messages and death threats are gone. 

RING!

My phone suddenly rings causing me to almost throw it in surprise. I really need to turn that ringer down. Glancing at the screen I notice Jake’s icon pop up as an incoming call. I quickly press answer and move to sit down on my couch.

“Hey Jake.” I say as the call connects through.

“Why didn’t you mention it? Why didn’t you say that you were getting hate and death threats from Lilly’s video?” His voice filters through still distorted through whatever audio thing he uses.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys and I didn’t think it was that important.” I comment quietly as I begin putting the pieces together.

“It’s important to me!” He doesn’t quite yell it but it’s almost a yell. “I could’ve set the software up earlier and you wouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate, you are already really busy plus it wasn’t that big of a deal.” I say tightly trying to hold back the overwhelming flow of emotions as the last couple of days begin to catch up to me.

“MC, I don’t care if I’m busy. Yes I want to find Hannah as quickly as possible but I also want to make sure that you are safe as well. I care about you and your wellbeing more than I could ever care about the amount of work I’m going through,” He says gently.

Hearing him say that is the final straw, all the stress and fear from the last couple of days breaks free and I just start crying on the phone. It’s definitely not a pretty cry I can barely speak as Jake tries to console me over the phone. I hear a knock on my front door as I try to get my crying under control.

“MC please open the door,” He says.

I get to my feet and stumble to the front door opening it with my phone still against my ear. Standing in front of my door is a man with a black hoodie, who's holding his phone to his ear.

“Hey MC.” He says gently and ends the phone call. “I can’t stay too long but I wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

I move aside to let him in and close my door. Putting my phone down I turn to him. He kinda blushes and scratches the back of his neck.

“Sorry I know I should have messaged you ahead of time to let you know that I was coming but I didn’t want to risk it with everything going on.” He says averting his eyes in embarrassment. “Do you want a hug?”

Nodding I wrap my arms around his midsection pressing my face into his shoulder as I sob letting out all the turmoil within me. He gently rubs my back comfortingly.

“It’ll be ok, don’t worry MC. I’ve got you let it all out.” He whispers into my hair as he continues to hold me. We stay like this for a little bit before I finally start to calm down. 

Even though I stopped crying Jake hasn’t let go of me, in fact he's holding me tighter. I clear my throat and step back a little bit. Now that I’ve let everything out I’m just feeling drained. He gently guides me to the couch and we sit together on it.

“How long are you going to be able to stay?” I ask quietly, my throat still raw from crying.

“A couple of hours at most but I don’t want to risk it too much.” He says as he wraps his arms around me again pulling me towards him. I’m positioned in a way that makes it so that I am leaning against him with my head over his heart. “No matter what happens I want you to know that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

I nod tiredly as the emotional release drains me of all the energy I had. I close my eyes and listen to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat in my ear. His hand is still rubbing my back gently. Even though I’ve never met this guy in person before with all the texting we’ve been doing I still feel comfortable around him.

Even though I know he’ll be gone soon I’m gonna enjoy this moment for as long as I can. I start to drift off slightly when I feel him press a gentle kiss to my head. I know that we still have a lot of things to do but this moment will be forever imprinted in my memories.

The End

Again I really hope you like your gift! Happy Holidays!!

-SpookyWitch13

#Duskwood #SecretSanta #Jake #mc #Jessy #i hope you like it

[bumblebee-moreno]

LGBT EDUCATION EVENT

I posted a bit ago to see who might be interested in an event for anyone to ask me any question they want about my LGBT identities, or the LGBT community in general, and there seemed to be quite a bit of interest, so here we are!

Event goes from midnight to midnight March 30 (starts in 5 minutes, lasts for the full 24 hours).

For those of you who don’t know me (you can skip this part if you already know who I am):

My name is Bumblebee, but you can call me Bee. I am white and use he/they pronouns. I am FTM nonbinary, queer, demisexual, and polyamorous. I work part-time at a non-profit targeted towards trans youth. At the non-profit, I moderate our 24/7 chat (I’m not the only moderator, don’t worry, I do sleep), am a facilitator for our middle school support group (When one of our high school facilitators cannot make it, I also step into that group occasionally). I also help create and present workshops (We are currently in the process of creating a presentation for Microsoft). My other job is as a receptionist for a Veterinary Clinic. (For safety reasons, I will not be sharing which nonprofit I work at, or which veterinary clinic I work at. If, for some reason you find out where I work, please keep this information to yourself). I was diagnosed with ADHD in February, and was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder two years ago. I have lived in the USA my whole life, and was raised in a non-religious household. My extended family is mostly Christian, with a few relatives who are Norse Pagan (we are originally from Norway). I am agnostic.

The purpose of this event:

Education. That’s literally it. I’ve noticed a lot of misconceptions about the LGBT community, and want to combat that with a good ol’ fashioned Q&A.

Here are a few rules before we start:

(I do have a TL/DR at the bottom, but if you have the time, I encourage you to read the full thing)

- This is a safe space.

This means a few things: You can ask any question you like and I will not be offended. Nothing is to be taken personally, it will always be assumed that you are trying to learn, unless you’ve clearly proven otherwise. If you’re hurt by something someone (including myself) has said, you’re free and encouraged to say something about it. All identities are welcome. Everything will be tagged with appropriate content warnings (If I don't tag something you need tagged, let me know and I will happily tag it!)

- Who can participate:

Anyone wanting to learn about anything LGBT, including but not limited to:

Cisgender/heterosexual people who want to become better allies, Writers who want to learn how to be more inclusive, People questioning their gender/sexuality, literally anyone prepared to be respectful to anyone else participating

(I do want to note: this event is open to NSFW conversations. If you are uncomfortable with this, please filter the tag “adult conversations”.)

- Any question is okay to ask.

This is a space for everyone to learn, regardless of their prior knowledge. I will never get offended by a question. I will not be offended by the phrasing of a question. If I am not comfortable answering something, I will explain why, but I will not be annoyed. Part of learning is making mistakes, and I want to be courteous to that.

I am super open, so I will answer almost every question, regardless of how personal it is, with a few exceptions (see the “my boundaries” point.

Yes, this means you can ask questions that you’ve been previously told never to ask. I want to clarify though: I will make it clear when a question is inappropriate to ask in normal circumstances. Since I am telling you beforehand that it’s okay to ask personal or private questions, it is acceptable to do so in this context. However, I will always add a note explaining why you shouldn’t ask people this in other circumstances so that it’s still clear which questions I am making exceptions for.

- My boundaries

I’m not going to share identifying information. That includes: My legal name, where I live, where I work, photos of myself, etc.

I’m not going to share my deadname either, though I am willing to have conversations about deadnames themselves.

I’m not going to share what my plans for bottom surgery are. I am fine to talk about bottom surgery itself, I am fine to share where I’m at right now, and have next to no boundaries about top surgery. But I’m not going to share what my plans for whether or not I’m getting bottom surgery are.

I’ve worked as a receptionist and trans advocate for long enough that I take nothing personally. Because of this, I ask that if you need to get upset or aggressive about something related to this event, please come to me directly instead of attacking a participant. I’d rather you send me hate than sending it to someone who is trying to use this safe space as a learning opportunity. This includes if you’re frustrated with a participant. I’m happy to facilitate a healthy conversation about a disagreement, but I will not tolerate anyone attacking others.

- Hate will be blocked.

When you’re talking directly to me, I’m going to assume you’re well-intentioned. HOWEVER. If you’re directly attacking others who are involved in the conversation, you will be blocked. If you have a problem, please come to me and I will work to resolve it. Sending hate to people other than myself is in violation of the safe space.

- My intention is never to speak over anyone

I don’t know everything about every identity. As a white person, I experience white privilege. As someone who passes as male about 80% of the time, I experience male privilege. I am able-bodied. I try my very best to educate myself, but I am still learning (and always will be).

If I speak on an identity that is not my own, I will always add a note to clarify this. I will only be speaking from the stories shared with me by people who have that identity, and from the additional research I have done.

MY WORDS ARE NEVER THE ONLY TRUTH. I cannot say this enough. Don’t take my words over those of someone who uses a specific label. Even if I also use that label. Everyone experiences the world differently. My words are a STARTING POINT. Please be aware that other opinions and experiences exist. I will try my best to have resources paired with every conversation so you can further your learning, but please be aware that I cannot teach you everything.

If I don’t know the answer, I will do research as well as provide you with sources.

- No question will go unanswered

Yes, this includes questions that come across as “disrespectful”. I have said this already, but I will always assume good intentions unless it’s proven that you’re coming from a place of malice. If a question is phrased in a way that comes across as harmful in any way, I will still answer it AND explain why you should ask it differently in the future or not ask it at all going forward.

If I don’t respond within 2 hours, please message me again: I either didn’t receive it or I am still writing my response. I don’t want to miss anyone just because you think I’m ignoring you, I promise I’m not.

The ONLY time I won’t answer a question is if you’ve made it clear that you’re only here to attack the people using this safe space (I will have already asked you to leave).

- If something upsets you, don’t ignore it.

If you’re hurt by something I, or someone else said, please let me know. My intentions are never to hurt or upset anyone.

You can disagree with people, including me, as long as you’re polite about it.

If you need me to talk to someone for you, I’m happy to do so. If you want a private conversation with me, my DMs are open. If you want to stay anonymous but don’t want your questions posted, use this 🌙 emoji (or just say so), and I’ll make a post trying my best to answer your question without sharing the contents of the ask itself.

I don’t expect you to educate me as to why you’re upset by something: that’s not your responsibility, I can educate myself. I do appreciate anyone willing to talk about differing views or why something upset them, but that is not the purpose of the event and you are under no obligation to educate anyone else. I will do my research the moment someone says something bothered them.

- Please don’t weaponise my words.

Please don’t use anything said here as a way to attack people. This event is to educate people. I hope there’s nothing said here that can be manipulated to hurt people, but I didn’t want to leave this unsaid; the point of this isn’t to attack people who are uneducated, it’s to help educate them.

- Most importantly: Please come into this with a desire to learn

This event won’t be helpful if you’re determined to not learn anything. The purpose of this is to ask questions and learn something. I can’t decide for you that you want to learn. I can’t force you to learn. You have to be willing, or this may seem very pointless to you. I’m not trying to change opinions or beliefs, I’m just trying to spread a little education. If you’re unable to take my words and really think about them, this may not be the space for you, but that’s up to you to decide.

Any topic is okay!

This includes (but isn’t limited to):

- Writing LGBT characters (such as how to incorporate same-sex representation without fetishizing gay people, writing for gender-neutral or non-female readers, making content trans-friendly, etc.)

- What to do when someone you care about comes out

- Coming out

- Transition-related questions (HRT, surgery, binding/tucking, deadnames, etc.)

- Defining terms or labels you’re unfamiliar with

- Working out your feelings about something (such as something you saw in media and need to talk to someone about)

- Various laws (questions about laws may take up to 3 hours to answer, as I would have to research your particular area, depending on the question)

- Literally any other question you can think of that has to do with the LGBT community in any way, these are just some ideas off the top of my head to get y’all started.

TL;DR: This space is open to anyone, any topic, any question just please be open-minded and respectful!

(Just like my first post, I’m including tags for the Pedro fandom because I’ve seen a lot of issues within that community, but this is open to anyone that wants to participate, regardless of what interests you have.)

@phoenixhalliwell

#lgbt education #lgbt #lgbt allies #transgender #ftm #mtf #enby #nonbinary #gay #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #demisexual #queer #polyamory #pedro pascal #javier pena #the mandalorian #din djarin #ezra prospect #max phillips #Agent whiskey #catfish morales #frankie morales #pero tovar #marcus pike #zach wellison #shane dio morrissey #Omar assarian #oberyn martell

[jamesbi-canonbarnes]

I'm having trouble connecting the emotional through line between episodes 2 and 3. In the therapy session Sam tells Bucky they can just finish the mission and then they're done with each other, after that it seems like things have cooled a bit and Bucky even starts to say, "I feel awful" before they get interrupted by Walker. Then in 3 things seems relatively fine between and they even (especially Sam) show some concern for the other?? And Bucky totally still not trying to understand Sam's POV

Ok ok mood. I’m not an expert on writing, but I do have lots of thoughts on this, so lemme talk this through w you (long post ahead). Some of these thoughts are going to be theorizing super hard about what’s going to happen in future eps so for sure take that with a grain of salt.

IMO for a show where the most interesting thing is literally just the emotional states of these two men and how they relate to each other through those emotions, their emotional arcs are not nearly pointed enough for my taste...I suspect that’s partly because we’re pulled back and forth between the more lighthearted banter and the more heartfelt expressions of their internal lives. But also bc, I think, the whole thing is that these two CANT communicate because if they DO, their emotional states will reach RESOLUTION too quickly.

And IMO, I actually think it’s the therapy scene alone that is throwing the balance off leading up to 3. I didn’t feel like threatening not to ever see each other again was earned, or at least it wasn’t clear to me where it’s coming from writing-wise. (Not that I wouldn’t support Sam cutting himself off from the toxicity of someone else’s unfair expectations, if this were real life and not a function of a written story). It just feels too far a swing of the pendulum compared to directly before and after. Sam just saved Bucky, and yes he never got to finish railing Bucky over Isaiah, but *because* that argument didn’t hit its crux, I don’t think it’s enough for most viewers to explain the kind of statement Sam makes in the therapy scene. Yes Sam does keep shutting Bucky down in a lot of ways, but we also know that before Bucky confronted him in episode 2, he was doing the opposite and trying to reach out to Bucky. So it feels a bit confusing to me. I don’t know what Sam wants, besides to be left alone, and that itself feels neither genuine nor like good enough motivation on a character level for this story. So. In lieu of any other story reason, I guess I think Sam’s reaction in the therapy scene is a way to artificially raise the emotional stakes so that the eventual resolution is more satisfying. That’s the only thing I can think, although if that’s the case, they started building back up extremely quickly.

Bc you’re absolutely correct, immediately after that therapy scene, Bucky is upset but clearly wants to communicate that to Sam, contrary to any agreement to squash it and move on. And though there’s no time for dialogue then, they approach walker/Hoskins essentially a united (though frustrated) front. And then after that and all through ep 3, though they are functionally on opposite sides of the entire zemo argument in every way, Sam basically rolls over repeatedly throughout and actually ends up expressing more care for Bucky than we’ve previously seen and also opens up to him more... and IMO bucky breaking zemo out of prison without asking and with clear premeditation was a major violation of trust, for which Sam was not afforded the opportunity to express proportional ire. (For me Bucky’s speech there asking Sam to do it for him did not hit as reasonable motivation for sam). You would think after the level of ire sam expressed to bucky’s genuine (though self centered) vulnerability in the therapy session, the level of ire to bucky’s lies and even “betrayal” (as I see it) would be notable. It should be at least above essentially saying “you’re dead to me once your usefulness runs out” which I think is the dark but fair implication of “let’s just finish this and never speak again” or whatever he said in the therapy scene. Instead he says a reluctant version of “ok, I’ll do exactly what I just explicitly said I didn’t want to do, just because you asked.”

The thing is, clearly neither of them actually hate each other. They have both repeatedly shown genuine care for the other. So why is the animosity even happening?

The emotional throughlines should help us figure that out, and vice versa. So what I’m thinking is, a throughline has to have a beginning and an end, and figuring out those can help you figure out what the points in the middle should be. Here the beginning of Bucky’s emotional throughline w Sam is clearly from a starting point of straight up misplacing his grief and aggression onto Sam, bc he’s projecting Sam as the distant figurehead of stability to replace Steve. His not understanding Sam on a personal level is the primary obstacle to his realizing and resolving that entire emotional throughline, thus the end point of the throughline necessarily requires passing through Bucky understanding Sam’s POV and empathizing with Sam. In my prediction, that empathy leads to self actualization through purposefully accessing his own feelings (rather than letting his blocked emotions break through and then ignoring both the cause and consequences of them). Then he can start down a path of true restitution leading to his own healing through healing his relationships.

IMO bucky has never hated Sam. He has always fully just been jealous of him. Jealous of how happy he is, how few problems he pretends to have, and his relationship with Steve, if you want to go there.

So because Bucky does not hate Sam, there isn’t really anywhere to go after hitting the mark of seeing Sam’s POV... besides, essentially, restitution as resolution. Bc it’s through that realization>restitution that Bucky’s going to have to face the actual issue, of who he actually hates. Only then can he heal. He doesn’t have to forgive Sam. He has to forgive himself. So that he can restore himself, which he can only do after restoring Sam.

(And, if they’re really going to go there, he has to forgive Steve. I’m unsure if that’s going to be directly drawn for us or not)

I think that bucky’s throughline will resolve itself relatively quickly after Sam gets what he needs from Bucky, hence why he can’t have it yet. So in the meantime, Bucky comes off as frankly a bad friend who is self absorbed/entitled and unwilling to unlearn white supremacy bc it requires uncomfortable empathy with a Black man.

Sam’s emotional throughline as filtered through how he relates to Bucky is a little harder for me to grasp, I’ll be honest. Obviously the end point the emotional throughline has to underline is accepting the mantle of captain America (accepting himself?) So maybe that is woven among the throughline of his journey to accepting Bucky as an ally??, but I’m not sure what the starting point even is to be honest.

I do think that what is clearer (at least to me, and maybe this is only applicable to me?) about Sam is that we as the informed audience already know an important part of why he gave up the shield. It’s very much about race. Sam has not expressed that to Bucky, but we know it. Bucky has no idea that this is about race—or more accurately, that’s it’s about trauma regarding race. He hasn’t connected Sam’s ultimate motivation to Sam’s statements and experience re: race. Sam has certainly expressed anger and hurt, but he hasn’t connected them to race and then to the symbol of captain America for Bucky, whereas they’re already connected for many viewers. I’m not going to give Bucky a pass for not connecting them because that type of ignorance is not neutral. But he clearly does not know, and he DOES keep asking. He has asked multiple times in words why Sam gave up the shield. But instead of giving a direct answer, Sam continues to shut him down, each time literally by refusing to speak and walking away. Now I tend to agree with Sam that it’s none of his business. Sam shouldn’t have to bare his trauma to explain something to Bucky just because Bucky wants him to. Especially when Bucky has not indicated that he’s willing or able to empathize with the reason. And on top of that, it being something sam knows Bucky cannot fully understand? I mean, I’m on Sam’s side here.

But the thing is, the show is setting it up so that Sam has to open up. He has to let Torres touch his machinery (metaphorically) he has to let Bucky get close to him (metaphorically). Sam has to let others in and he has to do it for himself, for his own healing. But I’m not yet sure why that’s so important for his journey, besides the obvious being this is a story about how to heal from trauma from every side.

So right now I think we’re just seeing Sam continue to drop hints both about what his trauma is and about the fact that he cares for Bucky, bc those are the important things for his resolution. This is continuing despite the therapy scene and not because of it, which I find odd, from a writing perspective. And we’re seeing Bucky miss a lot of those hints, bc he’s too busy being defensive to take them as genuine expressions of what they are, of exactly what he’s asking of Sam. That *does* make sense to me from a writing perspective. Because once he understands Sam’s POV, the throughline has to move forward toward resolution.

Idk. I just am not sure that I’m really getting Sam’s arc yet. That’s not to say that it’s not emotionally hitting, necessarily, bc I am firmly finding myself behind Sam.

And allllll of that is just to say: I agree that the emotional throughline feels a bit wobbly here, and I don’t have a way to reconcile it. I will take further suggestions if anyone has them.

#does this. does this answer the question at all #fallenangelontheceiling #tfatws meta #bucky meta #tfatws #sam meta #answered ask

[neh-sekssi]

stupor | sunwoo

Note: I can’t believe I finished my first smut piece!!! Writing smut is harder than I thought since I’m a visual person (😐 what who said that what 😗) but I can’t wait to post more (aka the drafts sitting in my Google Drive hehe). I didn’t come across a lot of Sunwoo fics so I’m just gonna throw this one out there. I think it’s fairly simple for my first one. Stay thirsty, my friends.

Pairing: sunwoo x reader (female)

Synopsis: You finally go home with your boyfriend Sunwoo after a drunken Saturday night out with friends. Although your evening went well, the look on Sunwoo’s face says otherwise. However, the night isn’t over, and you both know it’s going to be a long one.

Word Count: 2.1k

Smut Warning: bondage, blindfold, fingering, sub!reader dom!sunwoo, grinding, teasing, dry humping, masturbation, lil bit of oral but not really (f. receiving), **i swear it’s consensual even though it sounds like it isn’t :”(

“You embarrassed me this evening,” Sunwoo exasperates as he sets the house keys on the table.

You shut the door behind you and kick off your shoes before stumbling onto the couch. You let out a relieving sigh as you finally lie down, closing your eyes to keep the room from spinning.

“Can you get me water pleaaase?” You ask lightheartedly. You slowly open your eyes to Sunwoo peering down at you.

“Fine, but can you situate yourself in the bedroom? Since you said you can take care of yourself,” he sighs, the passive aggressiveness undoubtedly hinging on his last sentence. You pretend not to hear him and turn onto your side with your back facing the couch. You hear the filtered water dispenser momentarily before he comes back and hands you a glass of cold water. You sit up and chug the entire thing in one go.

Sunwoo rolls his eyes. “Thirsty much?” He takes the glass and disappears again into the kitchen. However, instead of returning to you, he walks towards the bedroom and glares at you as he passes by. “If you want it, come get it,” he hisses, disappearing behind the door.

You trip on your own two feet when making it to the bedroom, then throw yourself head first onto the bed. You reach for the glass of water on the nightstand to your left as you lie on your stomach, too lazy to move another inch.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Sunwoo mutters by the closet parallel to the bed. His back faces you as he removes his shirt while staring into the closet to look for something. You turn and rest your head on your arms to face him, still lying down. The room spins faster when you close your eyes but at the same time you enjoy the rush you feel at the back of your head.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” you claim.

Sunwoo continues to stare at the closet, hands on his hips, with his focus more so on the top shelf. “I don’t mind taking care of you when we go out but I don’t like how you behave once you drink more than you can handle.”

“I can act sober when I want to… if I need to,” you state.

“Oh really?” He turns around and tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows to let his sarcasm speak for itself. You peek one eye open to meet his gaze. “You got us kicked out of the club because you couldn’t walk straight. The guards asked us to leave and you tried to fight them. You get so aggressive when you’re drunk and I don’t like it.”

“I mean it’s not like I physically threw myself onto them. I just used really big words and their feelings got hurt,” you shrug.

“Speaking of throwing yourself onto people, should I even mention how you acted with my friends tonight?” He rolls his eyes and turns back towards the closet. Your eyes immediately open again and fall downward because you didn’t know how to respond.

“I was just being friendly! I’m friendly with everyone! It isn’t a big deal. Plus, they have their own partners anywayㅡ I mean too...” you confidently snap back at him. Sunwoo doesn’t bother to turn around but instead reaches into the closet and reveals a black medium keepsake box. He walks towards the bed and places it on the edge of his side of the mattress. You squint at him, trying to clear your blurred vision. You slowly blink a couple of times but when you refocus, Sunwoo completely disappears from your sight. Right as you’re about to turn over, you feel two knees on either side of you, straddling you helpless.

“Turn around,” Sunwoo demands in his low voice. You flip onto your back and see Sunwoo hovering over you. His bare chest towers over you like a skyscraper blocking the morning sunlight. His eyes lock onto yours and you instantly fall under his spell. His anger still burns within them but the way he bites his bottom lip is a clear signal of what he’s about to do to you.

“Hands,” he says as he holds out one of his own, waiting for your obedience. You slowly raise your hands as if making an offering to a God. In his other hand appears black velcro bed straps that he hid behind his back. He wastes no second restraining your wrists to both sides of the headboard. The only sound in the room was the velcro being adjusted by Sunwoo to ensure you had no means of escape.

“You need to learn a lesson.” He pulls out a blindfold from his pocket and immediately ties it around your eyes. With your vision black, the alcohol makes your head spin again. You become more aware of your breathing as your chest sinks deeper into the mattress. You begin to pulse in your underwear and try to make it less obvious. You won’t let him get his way this quickly.

Sunwoo climbs off of the bed and you hear his pants unzip and drop to the floor. You squeeze your thighs in an effort to hide your arousal. It hasn’t even been five seconds before you feel his strong hands spread you apart. Before you can say anything, a warm body snakes on top of you and a hot breath whispers into your ear.

“You aren’t leaving my sight tonight.”

Soft, tender kisses caress your neck and you hang your head to the side to indicate you want more. His full, lush lips are your favorite feature because he knows how to use them on your weak spot. You can’t help but whimper as you throb and ache for him. His hard-on rubs between your thighs and you buck your hips to try and feel it deeper. He retracts his own to avoid your attempts to get any more friction. The kisses stop and you feel the cold wetness from his saliva on your neck.

“Sunwoo. P-please kiss me,” you begged. “You want me, baby?” He asks you. You quickly nod your head.

You suddenly feel his tongue where his lips were. Instead of gentle kisses, he sucks and bites your neck a little at a time. You gasp from the immediate change of pace and your underwear becomes wetter. He grinds his dick on your pants to make sure you feel every inch. “Oh my god Sunwoo. Please. I need you,” you whine. He stops sucking on your neck and strokes harder. His hot breath whispers in your ear, “You sure about that? What happened to taking care of yourself?” Two fingers are shoved into your mouth and you suck it instinctively. He curls his fingers to hint what else he plans to do with you which turns you on even more. He lightly moans in your ear and licks the soft spot beneath it.

Sunwoo gets off and removes your pants as slow as he possibly can. You squirm in frustration, desperately thrusting the air for his touch. He laughs quietly at your agony. He straddles you and positions himself between your legs. He pushes his lower body on your underwear, trying to make you wetter. You match his pace, hoping to move the thin layers that stood in the way of your skin and his. He finally slides your underwear off and the cold air rushes over you. Yet, you still feel fabric on your legs. “Fuck Sunwoo, just fuck me already. Stop being a fucking tease.”

“So aggressive. How bad do you want me?” His deep voice turned you on even more. You reply in heavy breaths.

“So. Fucking. Bad.”

You feel his underwear become wet from all the grinding. “You were bad tonight. You aren’t getting away so easily.” He lies on top of you with his bare chest touching your shirt. He sucks on your neck again and matches his thrusts with each bite. Your breathing becomes ragged and you moan softly. He holds the back of your neck with his right hand, his left arm wrapped around your back to keep you still.

His warm lips finally meet yours. He kisses you passionately and pushes his tongue inside your mouth. You swallow each other’s moans as if each one was a gulp of water. Just as soon as it started, Sunwoo pulls away and takes off his underwear. He thrusts his hips into yours again, and you finally feel his shaft on your skin. Your body jolts upward in desperation to rub yourself on it. It’s absolute torture and you couldn’t handle it anymore. He whispers in your ear, “You’re so wet, baby. You’re thirsty for me, aren’t you?” You moan back, “Ugh, yes daddy.”

His entire length slams into you without warning.

“FUCK.”

His voice catches in the back of his throat. He pulls out and breathes deeply to recompose himself. “Please daddy.” He shoves his dick inside you and starts to thrust at a fast pace. You hear a hand smack the headboard above you as his left hand grips your body for leverage. “Oh my god. You’re so fucking wet.” He pushes deeper inside you and groans as he feels your walls tightening. You arch your back and grip your restraints for dear life, moaning loudly.

“Oh, Sunwoo. I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m numb.” Your black vision heightens your sensitivity and you feel a wave of euphoria rush to the back of your head. You want to see the look on his face so badly, the way he furrows his brows when he thrusts, the way his eyes shut when he pushes his hips deeper, the way he licks then bites his lips when he wants more of you.

He groans then stops to unbutton your shirt. You shiver as the air greets your exposed chest. He adorns your neck with hungry bites and eventually makes his way down your torso. Goosebumps trail along your back with each kiss. Sunwoo kisses the spot right above your entrance, teasing you. You writhe in bed because it’s impossible to stay still. You feel him smile against your skin. Suddenly, his tongue slowly glides up your slit, sucking your clit last. He kisses your inner thighs, knowing how ruthless that was. “FUCK, SUNWOO.” He laughs at your misery.

“Will you behave from now on?”

“Yes, PLEASE. ANYTHING for you. PLEASE.”

“Come for me then.”

Without hesitation, he slides two fingers inside of you. His hand works like magic as his thumb presses on your clit. You get even wetter by feeling how easily his fingers slip in and out. He replaces his thumb with his tongue and curls his fingers with each move. His tongue plays with your clit in his mouth which sends you on your final high. Your back arches at its peak, toes curl and dig into the mattress, hands gripping firmly onto the restraints. You moan his name loudly as you clench yourself and cum flows onto the bed.

Sunwoo takes off your blindfold. It takes a few seconds to adjust to the light but by the time your eyes focus, you see Sunwoo touching himself and biting his lips. “I need to see that face of yours,” he grunts. The sight of his bare body turned you on again. His hair sticking to his forehead, chest glistening with sweat. His eyes pierce yours and you’re instantly throbbing with arousal as if he flicked on a light switch. His brows furrow with anticipation and he shuts his eyes as he reaches his climax. With heavy breaths and a few last grunts, his cum drips onto your stomach and a grin grows on both of your faces.

He gets off the bed, walks toward you and kisses you deeply. It was a moment of gratitude and bliss but he teased you once again by pushing his tongue into your mouth and biting your bottom lip before pulling away. You let out a whine and he smiles at you, then reaches for your glass of water on the nightstand.

“Thirsty much?” You ask him.

He checks you out from head to toe. You were a hot mess with your hair in disarray, shirt unbuttoned and body sticky with both of your fluids. He chugs the water then helps you drink the rest since you were still tied up.

“Can you take these off now?”

Sunwoo smirks. “What do you mean?” He places the empty glass back on the stand. “I’m not finished with you.”

#kpop smut #kpop scenarios #the boyz smut #tbz smut #sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop imagines #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz fanfiction #tbz fanfiction #sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #the boyz #tbz #smut #the boyz sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo smut #tbz sunwoo smut

[crowleyellestair]

Hey I hope you're doing okay during lockdown 😊 I read some of your witcher drabbles and I'm in love with your writing! Is it ok for me to request a fluffy blurb? How about an Eskel x fem! reader where reader has really bad nightmares but this time Eskel is there when she wakes up and comforts her? It's okay if you're too busy to write it. Take care xx

AN/// I’m doing fine, sadly work is still just as busy. I hope you’re doing fantastic, and thank you for requesting and for liking my works!!! I had another idea that was still within the prompt, so you’re getting a two for one!!

  There have been only a handful of books that Eskel has read on psychology. Of course, there wasn’t much knowledge on the inner workings of the mind and functions to begin with. He also, despite his age, hasn’t been around women long enough to understand what could be happening. Eskel had been courting Y/n for only a couple of months, but he, along with the rest of the pack, have known her for years. She had helped Geralt find Ciri, and helped bring the kid to the keep. Every year, she was still allowed to come back during the winter despite humans rarely being invited.

They had coincidentally met up in the south near Gulet, and they spent a month together before heading to the fort for the winter. Nights were long as they stayed up either wrapped in conversation or in each other, and that’s how he didn’t notice it. It wasn’t a great thing to have as a witcher, but Eskel was a deeper sleeper. Geralt and Lambert could be roused by the sound of a pin drop, but the brunette would need something closer to an anvil. It’s been only two weeks since he’d first noticed it, and it was eating at him.

Whenever Y/n is ready and settling for bed, there is a new scent around her. He didn’t know what it is about her, but even the stench of her fear didn’t smell like most- like rot. It smelled like burning cake, sweet yet off. This new scent was also just off. It was like limes with the aftertaste of salt, and it lingered on her side of the bed. He hadn’t wanted to involve anyone, but he also didn’t want to be forward or feel ‘pushy’. The witcher asked Vesemir if he’d ever associated an emotion with the fragrance and his answer was shocking. His father figure informed him that limes or lemons were usually associated with nerves, the acidic scent coming from churning stomachs.

Dandelion had also been wintering in the fort, as he often did, and he knew the poet would be willing to help.

“And it’s every night before bed?” The bard was certainly confused, his finders dancing over his lute strings, but still focused completely on the man across the main hall’s table. Geralt had been plopped next to his friend, silently listening.

“Other than nights together, yes.” Geralt smirked but rolled his eyes. Eskel was known as cold to the outside world, but he truly was bashful when it came to himself or personal matters.

“And you hadn’t noticed before?” His hand came up, rubbing the back of his neck before brushing over his cheek for a moment.

“I usually fell asleep before she did. Y/n also wakes up before me. I asked once and she had said she simply had trouble sleeping.” Lambert finally made himself known, his voice bouncing off the walls.

“Maybe it’s that… period thing, like when Ciri first camped and-.”

“You poor soul. Do you really think it’s a year-round- forgive me, month long, event? You are sorely mistaken.” Dandelion’s voice holding a stern tone. Geralt’s hand placed itself on the poet’s shoulder in thanks for trying to keep the conversation respectful, and the younger witcher threw his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just here to grab some crates.”

“Do hurry.” His voice was still stern, and he had a humorless grin upon his face. He knew he’d make it up to the witcher later, but this wasn’t a laughing matter. Both Eskel and Y/n mattered greatly to everyone at the keep, and this was important. Geralt’s brows furrowed before asking,

“Where is she now?” Eskel’s knuckle brought itself to rub over his eye.

“Sleeping.” Dandelion perked up at his answer.

“Does she usually nap while you’re away?” Eskel felt more confused by this train of thought than he was contemplating the situation on his own.

“I bring her on contracts, but usually she does. Though, there aren’t too many instances where we’re apart. I’m not allowed to go to the market alone once she caught on to how people treat us.” Dandelion stopped playing for a moment, his fingers brushing his facial hair. Geralt leaned over, his grip giving a small squeeze.

“What are you thinking?”

“Certain people have bags under their eyes, regardless of sleep, but I think hers aren’t.”

“So?”

“So, I think Y/n’s refusing to sleep. She’s nervous to sleep.” Eskel’s brows furrowed faster than they ever had before.

“What? Why?” The poet wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew this was sensitive. He leaned closer to the table, and tried to soften his tone as much as possible.

“You know what it’s like being plagued by nightmares. Y/n isn’t a witcher, but you know she hasn’t led the best life. She might have been living life to the fullest since you’ve come into her life, but she certainly has specters following her.”  

Eskel had taken what they had talked about, and tried to come up with a game plan. On his way back to his room, thoughts flooded his mind. He wouldn’t wake her from her nap once he got back. Hell, he might even wait till she’s woken up for a while before mentioning anything. He wants her to be comfortable when the topic is broached, and he knew that if they were still in bed, safe from ears (as best they can be) in their own room, then she’d be more open to talk. He won’t mention that the conclusion was a group effort, but he should say that she can go to Dandelion if she isn’t fully comfortable talking to him. Even if he wants to know. Needed to know. Only to be able to make it better, as his heart has been clenched since he first noticed the smell. At first, he thought it was him, but he knew she loved him.

As he approached their room, he heard a heart pounding, and burst through the door. The middle of the bed held a clump under the furs, shaking the whole frame. He approached quickly, throwing the fur to the side. There Y/n laid, arms and legs pressed close to her chest, her whole body shaking as she tried to pull in a breath. Her skin was deathly pale, sweat beading and rolling over her forehead, mixing with the tears that rolled from closed eyes. He started to call her name, but nothing came of it. His hand gently landed on her shoulder, the other cupping itself under her head. He called to her again, louder this time, only to have Y/n shoot to the other side of the bed, her eyes frantically rushing around the room. Eskel placed his knee on the bed, his hand going out as if to sooth an animal. The brunette called out again, and her eyes found his, a fresh wave of tears trying to be blinked away.

“You’re awake now.” His voice was soft in volume, but stern, trying to show that there was power and realism to him. His other arm came up, a silent invitation for a hug being put in place. She blinked at him for a moment before crawling into his arm, her hands fisting his shirt, nose jamming itself into his neck. Soft sobs could be heard, and she began to shake again, though it wasn’t because she couldn’t breathe. He curled himself around her, legs coming to frame hers, a hand going to the back of her head, and the other going over her hand that latched itself onto the collar of his tunic. They stayed there until she was whittled down into small sniffles. “What happened?” It took time for her to answer, but he didn’t press.

“There was a skirmish a year ago near the Pontar. I wasn’t in Vengerberg, but I was close enough when the scorching happened. I had a tent of twenty innocent victims. Not even soldiers. I could only save five.” Y/n was a renounced healer, and it was a miracle she saved even five in their state.

“Is it just them haunting you?” Y/n pulled back a moment to look into his soft, knowing gaze. “I know you don’t sleep when you should.” Her arm that wrapped itself around to his back unraveled and tried to scrub dry tear trails, the remnants starting to itch.

“No. It changes every night.”

“Will you wake me?” Her brows furrowed. “When you wake up from another dream, will you wake me?” The hand over hers clenched harder. “I may not be able to help slay this type of demon, but I don’t want you to suffer alone.” She started to shake her head.

“You don’t have to lose sleep over this.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. But I’m choosing to. I want you to know you can be safe, and that you won’t have to go through things- dreams or experiences alone any longer. I’ll always be here trying to keep you safe.”

It took a little longer to convince her, but she agreed. That night, Eskel once again wrapped himself around her, spilling sweet nothings into her ear. Knowing that she was safe in his arms, her body relaxed, lime nowhere in the air.

-

When Eskel had warned her to watch out, she headed it, but didn’t fully understand why. She chalked it up to some simple aggressive behavior or overbearing angst that didn’t come with a filter. When Letho leaned over the table, lips peeling back into a venomous smirk, whispering to her that his occupation entailed being a King slayer, it fully dawned. This was the witcher that had slipped past Geralt for so long. Eskel’s breathing techniques had been taken further, the brunette teaching her how to rein in her breathing and heartbeat for situations that called for it. Mainly, it was supposed to be used for if a monster somehow slipped past him, and she needed to hide. It wasn’t meant to try and cover her fear if for if a hostile witcher came along. Both she and Eskel knew that Letho was aware of her fear the second she got her heart rate down, despite how quick it and imperceptible it had been.

The lovers moved to the next town quickly and efficiently, but with the baggage of their encounter. Eskel had always kept himself between Y/n and Letho even if they had been sitting. His hand was always on her knee or the small of her back, her figure never leaving his line of sight. Despite these micromovements, Eskel was a right gentleman to the other witcher. While he declined the viper’s inquiry to receive help on the contract Letho had taken up, Eskel did hand him a formula of a lure to get the Chorte out. Despite the wolf’s efforts, Letho had select parting words for him,

“You make bold moves to protect the expendable.”

Y/n all but dragged the brunette out of the tavern, quickly getting him to Scorpion before anything broke out. They had taken measures, acting as if they were taking the trail to the adjacent town, instead cutting through the woods halfway and going deeper south.

The tavern they stopped at had an inn attached, and they decided to stay. Eskel found a contract, but would start the next morning, heading up to their room early. Y/n had found some gwent players, knowing she could make extra coin through them easily. It had been an hour before the healer finally meandered up to the room, tired from the trek through the woods and the intense gameplay. Satisfaction rang through her as she had won, though fatigue still took over. She gently opened the door, looking to her lover on the bed.

Eskel was reading, book in this outside hand, the other arm tucked behind his head making the perfect spot for her to tuck in next to him. She toed off her shoes, slowly let her trousers drop, and padded to the bed. He had a small smile for her, though his eyes still flew over the pages. Y/n climbed into bed, positioning herself into his side, giving his scarred cheek a chaste kiss on the way to rest her head on his chest. She noticed that he was at the end of the chapter, only a page to go before the break, and she knew he’d put it down to chat, but she fell asleep moments after laying down.

 When she was awoken, Eskel was half over her, eyes sad and worried. Her heart pounded and sweat beaded, images of her last nightmare still flashing through her mind. Y/n’s eyes flew over every shadowed shape in the room, her shoulder fitting over Eskel’s chest. Her head snapped to look over his shoulder to look at the space behind him, all the while he was softly calling her name. She didn’t stop however, finally turning to him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, inspecting for blood that had previously been flooding out of his nose and mouth in her dream.

Her hands then flew to his shirt, fingers dragging over the dry material, finding no blood, no wound. She couldn’t really see anything, the overcast covering the moon light making it impossibly harder for the human. Eskel’s hand came up to cup hers when it flew over his heart. He knew that the beat was slow, but that she would still be able to feel it. His other went to her cheek, thumb brushing away the tears, and trying to sooth so she would stop shaking. Her eyes closed and she started to breath along with the man in front of her, their chests syncing up with only a few shaky inhales from her.

“I’m sorry.” Her head tilted into his hand.

“You know you never need to apologize for that.” They sat there for a handful of moments before he had to ask. “It’s been months.” It’s true that the two had been together for years now, but she still had them from time to time. Though, there was usually a trigger, either seeing Eskel badly injured after a hunt or passing through war riddled husks of towns. There was another difference to the dreams as well. It was never random people she couldn’t help, nor was it herself in the shoes of who was in danger. Eskel was always the victim in her dreams, and it tore at her heart every time. Even the thought of him getting hurt through her heartbeat to speeds it should never reach. That isn’t to say that she didn’t believe in his abilities. She had never felt safer than by his side, but she also knew his heart. Eskel would do anything to make her or innocents safe.

“It was Letho.” She could feel Eskel tense under her hand. “I didn’t know I fell asleep and you were reading to me. He waited in the shadows,” her tone was barley audible, but she knew he heard every word, every inflection. His, however, was just above a whisper, and his tone matched the tension in his shoulders.

“Did he hurt you in the dream?” Y/n shook her head lightly.

“No, he only said what he did to rile you up. And he was here to finish the job of taking you out.” Eskel had also noticed the pattern of her dreams and how they morphed into him being hurt. It hurt him to know that he was the source of her pain, though it also made his heart soar. To know that she truly loved him to where he plagued even her dreams. He had never thought he’d be happy, not like Geralt. And he was man enough to admit that he was jealous of his brother when it came to love. But now he had it, and he was never letting it go.

The dreams had lessened to only times after traumatic experiences, and he was determined to destroy them forever. Now, he just needed to figure out how to show her that even the threat of death couldn’t tear him from her loving arms.

#witcher imagine #witcher x reader #eskel x reader #eskel imagine #eskel #witcher eskel #geralt imagine #jaskier imagine

[saurons-pr-department]

I'm 24 and I just learned I'm 'too old' for the fandoms wow

Ah yes, one of my favourite nuggets of bullshit from the fandom discourse circuit...

People really need to start learning their fandom history. Maybe then they’ll realise that fandom is something that woman can enjoy even beyond their 20′s! (thank you Trekkie housewives!!)

I mean, who do these people think organise cons or new websites? And I can assure them that that 300k word fanfic that they loved, with the plot twists and foreshadowing, that explores themes of love and grief and duty and with heart aching character development, was most certainly not written by a 12 year old!

It’s actually quite sad that it seems to mostly be young girls saying these things. Like, do they plan on giving up their hobbies as soon as they hit some arbitrary number? And such a young number too! Imagine being so lost in the misogyny and ageism that you forget how long humans can actually live!! Not to mention that many of the people I’ve seen saying this are closer to being in their 20′s than they are to not being in their 20′s... -_- 

I for one love seeing women online saying that they’re taking the opportunity to hop online for fandom while their grandchildren nap. Yes! Indulge in your hobbies forever!

I will say though, that the majority of the time I ever really see the argument that a woman is ‘too old’ brought up, is normally when a younger person has been told that their behaviour is out of line in some way, or when they specifically want to attack the older woman for whatever reason. By this I mean that, I’ve seen people use the “you’re an adult, I’m only a child!” argument as a way to try justify being as aggressive as they want, without having someone respond to them in kind. Which is such a bizarre argument! Like, if you’re old enough to know that shouting at people online is childish behaviour that a person shouldn’t be engaging in, then you’re old enough to apply that standard to yourself. Why would you think that you had a leg to stand on when you literally admit that you know full well that your own behaviour is wrong??

The other major situation that I see this brought up in, is as part of purity culture discourse. A grown woman apparently shouldn’t spend her time producing fan content for other grown women (or other adults in general). There’s very much this push-back among an element (not all, obviously!) of younger fandom members against learning how to filter and block their own searches, and so content produced by adults for adults should not exist as far as they’re concerned. The absolutely disgusting labels and accusations I’ve seen lobbed at women for producing content that a younger audience just isn’t ready for consuming yet are horrifying. 

Now, I don’t want anyone to think that I’m saying that young teens should be mixing with adults online! That’s not at all what I’m saying. Children/teens most certainly should be careful about who they talk to online, and they are perfectly right in being wary of an adult who sends them inappropriate content or insists on being able to interact with them. On platforms like Tumblr, setting up your boundaries unfortunately has to be a bit more manual (i.e. having a DNI that puts age restrictions on who follows you, or blocking anyone whose age you’re uncertain of, if that makes you uncomfortable). This is far from the ideal set up, where things could be closed off a bit more. With Tumblr and Twitter, everything is very much out in the open. But the way to help keep content where it should be, is for people to tag appropriately and for people to learn to block and filter (and scroll past!!) content that they don’t like, not to go kicking adult women out of spaces that they created in the first place!

Sorry, I’ve gone on way more of a rant than you were probably expecting. It’s just that it’s a topic that really pisses me off. It’s such a thorough mixture of purity culture, misogyny and an excuse for cyber bullying, none of which are things that I can stand!

Anyway, I’m really sorry people were shitty to you! It’s behaviour that is most certainly not tolerated here at the PR Department!

#fandom wank #fandom discourse #i could have gone on about this all day really

[neapolitanadonna]

cottagecore has taken over my life. can i request a scenario where human au England is living in this little cottage in the flower fields and he sees this strange girl in the fields all the time? He just kinda watches her and admires her and stuff and cute soft cottage core things ack I'll leave the creativity to you THANK YOU!!!

Oh you KNOW my cottagecore ass had fun with this one. I genuinely felt soft writing this so I hope everyone feels soft too. I love getting the opportunity to make imperialists look soft, its by far my favorite hobby of this quarantine. 

Also this is a bit long, so remember to click keep reading!!

Arthur was a hardworking man in the government who, despite practically signing his life away to it, hated the government. His London flat, aggressive cabbies, black coffee at 5 in the morning, three piece suit everyday life was something that got him far in life, it was a shame that most days, he couldn’t care less about it. 

After his grandmother passed, she left him her small brick cottage in Painswick. At first he thought of selling it, not that he needed the extra money, it would just be a shame to leave empty real estate. He didn’t think he would ever spend his days in the little place, but in a time where he tried to manifest nothing but peace, the universe brought him to the cottage. 

He spends his weekends there. It isn’t big government buildings and the bustling streets of London, but to him, it’s perfect. If he wasn’t tethered to the responsibilities of being an adult, he would pack up everything he had and move to the cottage. He considered it often, he had nothing left in London for him, anyway. He lived alone in London and in Painswick, but Painswick felt less lonely. 

His grandmother's cottage was relatively secluded, far enough from the little village to be truly alone, but close enough if he needed to walk to get anything. However, oddly enough, even if there were no other residences near him, one particular creature always showed up in his backyard. 

He wasn’t a fan of judging a woman by her physical traits, but he remembers the first time he laid eyes on her perfectly. It was cinematic, and if it was a film, he would watch it again and again. She wore a baby blue dress with a flower print that fell just above her knees. Her hair was pulled back into braids with two little bows the same color as her dress. He couldn’t quite see the color of her eyes from his window, but they held some sort of power in them even from afar. As she gently walked through the flower fields, she tucked the wildflowers she picked into the weaves of her braids, filling them with Bluebells, Columbine, Daisies, and Cornflowers. She didn’t trip over plants or roots that peeked through the dirt. She seemed to thank the earth each time she picked a flower. As he watched her card through the flowers, spin in the field, then sit under the Crab apple tree up upon the hill, he figured he must’ve been hallucinating. It had been a long week of work, he had gone through so many rough emotions that it was possible she was an angel and he was on the verge of death. 

Until she showed up again. 

Her visits to his field were almost scheduled, but sporadic all at the same time. She would come, sometimes pick flowers, others leave them alone, but dance among them either way. She would sometimes bring little baskets of peaches and bread for herself, other times she came with nothing but herself. She once got close enough to a deer that it let her pet its head, the same thing happened another time with a rabbit. His grandmother used to tell him stories and lore about Painswick, how faeries disguised themselves as humans to lure them in. He couldn’t help but wonder if his grandmother wasn’t just telling old tales. There was no way this girl was human. 

She seemed devoid of any human flaw. She couldn’t have been any older than 20, but even though Arthur was 23, his position aged him five years. She always seemed so happy, so carefree, like nothing in the world could have made her upset. If anyone else came through his property to take his flowers, he would be sure to lecture them, but she was his only exception. 

It was a Saturday morning when Arthur woke up feeling less on edge than usual. He was so used to having a migraine that waking up without one felt like a giant weight off his shoulders. The light filtered through the old blinds just perfectly, hitting the old paintings of flowers on the wall. It occurred to him that he did more staring out his window into the fields than he did outside. Maybe today would be the perfect day for him to spend a day out there, no stress, no work, and definitely no migraine. 

The sun was still rising as he walked out into the fields. He never noticed it before, but bumble bees danced around every honeysuckle and corn flower. He supposed they would be hard to notice from far away. 

He set down his little blanket at the base of the crab apple tree. It made him feel a certain sense of anxiety knowing that this is where the ethereal girl usually spent her time, that he was sitting in her spot despite it being his property. He looked out on the fields, the sun rising behind them, and began to realize why the girl loved it here so much. 

He spent a good while like this, staring off into the fields, down at his cottage, the trees and wood that extended beyond the fields. He only stopped daydreaming when he heard humming. 

He recognized it as Donovan’s “Sunny Goodge Street” before he processed who the humming could have possibly come from. When his brain finally did process, yes, it had to be none other than the voice of the girl, he felt his heart leap into his throat. She must’ve been coming up from behind, and his best option was to sit absolutely still from the other side of the tree hoping she would walk the other way around and avoid him completely. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, but he couldn’t quite admit that he was afraid. She had all the odds of the universe on her side, she might’ve been mother nature herself, and who was he compared to that? Unfortunately, his desires came to a fault. Her humming stopped, and her footsteps got louder. A soft, faint giggle could be heard from behind the tree. 

“Hello?” Arthur’s heart leaped to his throat again. Such a sweet voice she had, too. In retrospect, he should've moved, stood up to greet her and introduce himself, but he was frozen. He spent all week talking and negotiating with big government hot shots, yet he couldn’t face a silly girl who spent her days in the flower fields. 

“Are you hiding from me?” She giggled again, and then she was next to him, standing above him. He couldn���t help but exhale deeply the moment he saw her. His cheeks were for sure red, such an embarrassing thing for a grown man, he thought. She wore the same blue dress she wore the day he first saw her, her hair let loose and gently curled around her shoulders, instead. 

“Are you the funny man who lives down in the cottage there?” She asked, taking an uninvited seat in front of him on his blanket. She smelled like honey, roses, and the morning. She was even more beautiful up close than she was from his bedroom window. 

“Lots of questions you have for me. I should be the one asking who you are. This is my property” Arthur replied. The moment he said it, he felt a pang of guilt. He had a hard time talking to somebody without being defensive anymore. The girl didn’t seem to care. 

“I’m really sorry.” She smiled, almost solemnly. “I’m __. There was this sweet old lady, Mrs. Kirkland, who lived here quite a bit ago. She was a regular at my nans flower shop in town, she used to invite me over quite a bit to have tea. Before she passed, she told me I could still visit the fields whenever I wanted. It never occurred to me that somebody else would be living here after she…” 

“Oh, don’t worry, __.”  Was all Arthur could muster up saying. The way her name spilled off his tongue sent a shot of adrenaline up his spine. __. So very fitting. 

He found it strange from the start that his grandmother left him her cottage, of all things. Maybe, somehow, this was her funny little way of playing matchmaker for him. The blush rose back to his cheeks. 

“I’m Mrs. Kirklands grandson, Arthur. I’m sorry for making accusations.” 

“It’s alright.” She smiled. “I’m sure if I saw some strange girl on my property I would be curious, too.” 

“How did you know I lived here?” Arthur asked, meeting her bright __ eyes. 

“It just feels less lonely when you’re here.” She smiled. “That, and I heard you drop your mug one morning. Your reaction wasn’t all that discreet.”

She giggled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Oh, for fucks sake, you mean to tell me you saw that?” 

“I promise I’m not a stalker,” her smile seemingly permanent on her face. “Just observant, is all.” 

“I wasn’t accusing you of being one.” 

“Oh, but I can tell you’ve thought about it.” 

Arthur wanted to tell her he didn’t think any malice of her. He wanted to tell her that even if she was stalking him, it was the best intrusion of his privacy he’s ever had. He wanted to grab her little hand that rested upon her knee, but he knew he couldn’t. He’s never felt so intimidated by another person in his life. 

Arthur said nothing to her in response, and instead for a moment, __ studied him, then stood up. 

“Don’t leave.” He said, suddenly. It wasn’t even his intention, it came out of him on instinct. She looked back down on him and smiled, and shook her head. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, darling.” She giggled. “I’ll be right back.” 

Arthur watched her as she tumbled down the hill to the fields, the tall grasses and flowers welcoming her like she was a part of them. He finally had the opportunity to sigh, and run a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop thinking about how his grandmother probably set this whole thing up for him, she was always a clever woman. 

__ came back a few minutes later with hands full of flowers. She sat back down in front of him, and carefully broke the stems of the flowers to make them shorter. He wanted to question her process, but instead just watched her. He finally made a noise when his breath hitched as she moved to push some of his hair out of his face. 

“You have the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen.” __ marveled, her own eyes gentle as they looked into his. 

“I- Thank you.” Arthur held back a stammer. She brushed his hair from his face again, then gently placed a daisy behind his ear. 

“Perfect.” She giggled, pushing his hair away from the other side of his face to make room for another daisy. 

“You’re ridiculous, woman.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Who on god's earth are you?” 

She shook her head, and shrugged. 

“I’m just trying to enjoy the life I was given. No use in living unless you spend every day the way you want.” 

“Do you work?” 

“At my nans flower shop, yes. It’s not as much about money as it is enjoying my time with my nan.” She shook her head. “Besides basic bills and the likes, everything I need I make myself.” 

“Do you drive?” 

“A bike. I never felt the need for a car.” 

“Do you have a cellphone?” 

“Of course, I like to live naturally, that doesn’t mean I’m a barbarian.” 

“I was just wondering.” Arthur chuckled, making the bold move of pushing her hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered shut and a small smile spread across her face. He grabbed a cornflower and tucked it behind her ear. He felt breath against his arm, there was something so intimate about her breathing. It had barely started to occur to him that this was the girl he’s admired from afar for months. 

“Perfect.” He teased, eliciting a giggle from her. His hand still touched against the softness of her cheek, lingering there, but she didn’t seem to mind. She gently reached for his hand, lowering it from her face, and instead threading her fingers in between his. The softness of her skin, the warmth of her smile, the sweet little chime in her voice, everything about her overwhelmed him. 

God, he wished he could thank his grandmother for this.

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