#also I always tell myself to answer asks in a single paragraph

[pangolinheart]

And another: how did you go about creating Rhiki? was she always a Miqo'te? Did she change at all from where she started?

Rhiki was actually my second FFXIV character, albeit my first long-term one. I had started the game like 2 or 3 years earlier via the free trial and had a character on the Aether server who was a Roe lady named Styrnlona. I never really got very far though and then I got busy with work and other things, so I ended up putting it down and not picking it up again. (Styrnlona also started out as a lancer.) When I picked it up again it was at a recommendation of a few friends I played D&D with. Because I played a tall, buff goliath barbarian woman, it somehow seemed too on-brand to remake Styrnlona on the server they played on. So I tried to make a character that was totally different from anything I had played recently (mostly buff women and shitty magic elves). A miqo'te or viera seemed like a sufficient departure from what I would usually choose, so that's how Rhiki ended up being a miqo'te. That being said, I was really tempted to make an au ra... If female au ra weren't so short I probably would have (though Rhiki ended up absurdly short anyway so the joke's on me.) As for her personality, I kept with the theme of trying to make her different from my typical character. I don't have very many recent characters who are super social or emotionally intuitive, and the idea of playing a character that was more fun-loving and mischievous appealed to me. Originally I envisioned her as being more of a trickster-type character, but as I played she ended up becoming a little more excitable and dorky.

Compared to other rpgs I've played, ffxiv doesn't really give you any sot of starting point or background for your characters, and since I knew nothing about the game or plot when I started I wanted to make her motivations general enough that it would be easy to adapt to whatever direction the plot took. Lots of "fledgling adventurer" backstories I had used before or felt too edgy or played out, and I also didn't know enough about the game to 100% commit to a backstory. I ended up with the general idea of "some dumb wayward 20-something who doesn't know what they want to do with their life so they're just vibing and trying stuff out." Appearance-wise I really just kind of played around until I found a concept I liked. I had a hard time deciding between the sun-seeker and moon-keeper subtypes (I like the moon-keeper lore better but I'm just not a huge fan of the giant round pupils lol). I ended up trying to make her coloring around a theme of "sunrise/sunset" - thus the original purple and orange hair and purple and orange highlights and purple/pink eyes. I originally intended for her skin to be darker, but the lighting in the background I was using made it look much different than it ended up being in-game. I've thought about my free fantasia to change it, but I'm not totally sold. If I could go back I would give her the lion-like tail instead, and maybe the slightly darker nose facial feature... But I've already gotten so much art of Rhiki as she is and I can't think of a good story-relevant reason for her appearance to change lol.

Overall, Rhiki hasn't changed too much since I originally made her. Obviously she got a new haircut that necessitated a slight color change (the orange looked too weird with the highlights on the pvp cut.) She really does look older with her new hairstyle. In regards to her personality, she definitely ended up less "alluring and impish" than I intended and more "goofy and obnoxious," but she's still a fun character to play around with! And of course there's the maturity that comes with age and experience. And the compounding effects of trauma. You know how it goes. If I ever made an alt I might try to go with someone a little... taller lol. Maybe go back to Styrnlona, or try out a duskwight or viera. There are a lot of glams Rhiki just doesn't look good in because of her body type. I'm still tempted to make an au ra though because I love the horns and scales... A hyur wouldn't be off the table either. I might also try to make a character with longer hair - sometimes i want to try out a longer style for Rhiki but every time I try them on she looks like a totally different catte...

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #asks and answers #rhiki tag #sorry this is late i fell asleep last night! #also I always tell myself to answer asks in a single paragraph #and yet....

[itwoodbeprefect]

12, 27, 42, 46 for the fic writer asks

12. How does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

i could try to pretend that it doesn't matter to me if people read my stuff or not, but that would be a lie. i think maybe it's more... by this point i've had years and years of posting fic and people being extremely sweet and kind and encouraging about it, and that has absolutely had an impact both in terms of keeping me posting more fic and the ways i view my own writing (and how i view myself, i think, especially pre-ao3. i'm pretty sure people online telling me i was funny played a not insignificant part in building any sense of self-worth as a deeply awkward kid irl in high school), and having all of that history and experience, at this point i have the luxury of not caring about the numbers that much. comments are always very awesome, but if any particular fic would end up getting ignored completely for whatever reason, that's okay. i'm not writing for max engagement (i've made some hilariously terrible decisions lately if that's what i'm going for), but that doesn't take away that people being excited about a thing i made remains a really really nice benefit to how the fandom ecosystem works.

though i will also note, i don't think there's a single thing wrong with wanting or needing feedback or support to your writing. i frequently feel extremely spoiled in that regard, because i've been around for so long and my output in that time has been so high on average that i know people know my name, and i also write pretty easily digestible uncontroversial stuff generally speaking no matter what fandom i'm in at the time, so the responses i'm getting are oftentimes not the average, and i'm very aware of that. it's much, much harder getting started in fandom.

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27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

ooooh. i mean, most favorite is easy, and probably a fairly universal answer, which is that moment when the writing flows nicely and it feels right and i get to put down at least a few paragraphs in a row (maybe even more!) without it feeling like any effort at all. least favorite is probably the opposite - when it just Won't Work, and every sentence feels clunky and awkward and overwrought, like there's just no way to bridge whatever tiny gap in a story i'm probably trying to fill at the time. the goofiest thing about that is that when reading things back later there's often not too much actual difference between the quality of the writing when it feels good vs. when it feels bad, because the problem is in my head, but it's also my head that needs to do the writing, so that doesn't make it less of an obstacle.

-

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Centrefolds / Distal Breaks by @redgoldblue, which i read because @redgoldblue wrote it, because i would absolutely recommend anything written by @redgoldblue.

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46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

ha, anything but action- or plot-driven, i think. characters, emotions, characters having emotions, emotions to explore characters - that's my wheelhouse.

and on the topic of writing style: i've gotten a comment a few times (as a compliment! nothing bad about this) that said something to the effect that my writing is pleasantly economical or sparse, which frankly baffled me for a while, because right from the very very start i was writing mostly about relationships (whether friendship, romance, family), and not very much really happens in my stories (the traditional way, action or plotwise), so from my point of view almost everything was fluff and just sort of... not superfluous, and definitely not meaningless (there's a lot of meaning to feelings!), but a sort of deleted scene extra part to canon. those are some of the first responses i got to my work: i can't believe i read this many words about almost nothing happening, and i really liked it! so filler, i guess, might be the best word for it, and obviously "all of this is filler" and "this is a very economical use of words" is inherently contradictory, except, well. is it? it took me a while to, i guess, internalize, that when the goal is feelings and exploring characters, doing that in an effective way is going straight to the point.

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Get to know your fic writer! 🔎

#thank you!! 💖 #* #ask #ask game

[voylitscope]

Hi friend! For when you feel like taking a work break, I’d love to hear 🌿🥐 and 🧩 for the ask game!

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask! 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity I try not to force it. Sometimes eating, water, switching music, things like that can all help, but if it's really just not coming, I don't make myself write. I'd like to think that helps give me a lot more time/longer windows when I can write and am able to be creative. 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

I do enjoy the way tumblr jokes are often about 3 memes nested inside each other. As for specific references, jokes that mention Dashcon nearly always make me laugh.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Unreadable formatting is the first thing, although I don't actually run into that all that often. Beyond that, it can vary. A lot of times, it's honestly a cumulative thing, like, there will be a final thing that makes me hit the click the back button, but there will have been a handful of things before I reached it that I was unsure about/didn't like -- but a single on of those things, even few of them in a longer fic, might have been okay - but sometimes I'm at 4k words out of 22k and had pause about 7 things-- then that's a click out, you know? But then sometimes I'm 4 paragraphs into reading something -- and it's a click away because I can already tell it's just Not For Me, for whatever reason. And it's hard to list certain things that are always a click out because it's really more, "if this happens and it's handled in certain ways," rather than if things happen at all. There are things I normally don't read, or like, or find to be in character, or whatever -- but certain authors could write those things and make me love them and probably also cry. ...I feel like that was probably an overly complicated answer, ha. Thank you again for the ask! I hope your day has been a wonderful one! 💞

#asks #writing #fandom culture #personal post #tumblr things

[bi-bats]

asksender reporting for duty! 🫡

for the latest fic ask set: 5, 7, 8, and 15 please!!!

(also, please please take all the rest time you want/need!!! you gave us a Feast, now it is time for rest and recuperation 💕💕💕)

OKAY I'M FEELING LIKE ANSWERING SOME ASKS SO HERE WE GO I'M STARTING WITH THIS ONE FROM AN OLDER GAME BECAUSE IT'S BEEN HERE IN MY ASK BOX FOR LIKE 3 WEEKS

(i heard you say I can take as long as I need in one of your more recent ones, I just didn't internalize it which isn't your fault 💚)

technically the latest fic I had posted when I reblogged this was Scars and Stitches BUT right before that I posted What Are You Waiting For? which is FAR more interesting to me SO I'm answering for that one because rules are fake and I feel like it.

5. How do you decide how long your fics/chapters will be? Do you have a word count goal?

Ha. Ha! I don't decide anything. Do you all think I'm out here deciding that my next update for Know Yourself should be 18k words?? Of course not.

Here's how it goes: I tell any given chapter what I think should happen. The chapter says "hmmmm, maybe. We'll see." Then I beg the chapter to please please please please please not be over 10k words. It gives me a smile like it thinks I'm adorable for even asking when we both damn well know that the chapter will do whatever it wants, and what I want has nothing to do with it. And then either the chapter takes mercy on me (like it did in this fic) or it Does Not (like it is doing in Know Yourself).

7. What part of this fic/chapter was the most fun to write? 

Honestly, the whole first chapter. There's just something about the way it flows that I feel so good about 💚

8. Which line/paragraph are you most proud of? Why are you proud of this? 

But the strangest thing is how everyone believes Jason anyways. Just like that.  Then again, Dick is backing him up, so of course they believe him. Everyone believes Goldie, all of the time. He just flashes that gorgeous smile like a fucking master key, and Jason’s always been a tiny bit jealous that everyone else turned out so goddamn endearing.  Not that being intimidating doesn’t have its uses, but sometimes he can’t ignore how much easier certain things would be if his edges were just a little less sharp.

This whole section. I think it's just that this is one of those thoughts that Jason keeps to himself, even though he thinks it fairly often. It captures a part of Jason I rarely see represented, which is how he came back different and he feels different from the rest of the bats in a lot of ways that strain his relationship with them. (Also, I feel like this reads in his voice really well which is something I sometimes have a hard time feeling like I nailed.

15. What is one question you wish someone would ask you about this work? Ask it and answer it.

There is ALWAYS a question I want to be asked about fics, and it is what songs inspired them! I listen to so much music (Spotify wrapped outed me last year at 84k minutes of listening lmaoo) and I used to write to music a lot but I've been finding it distracting lately.

I still plot to music though, and each of my fics have playlists! I'm gonna link the spotify playlist for this fic here! Top recs from this playlist are:

Lately I haven't Been Sleeping

Hyacinthus

J's Lullaby

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Thank you for reporting in for an ask!!! I always love seeing you in my inbox and I swear I get excited every time, I'm just bad at answering 😂

And re: your comment at the end, Thank You and everyone who reminded me to give myself room to rest! I don't want to burn out any more than anyone else wants me to burn out, and I appreciate the reminder!! Also preparing the feast was So Worth It, people are still (like literally at this moment I got one) sending in the LOVELIEST comments that are making my day every single time!!

Ily all!!! and Bean I'll see you in like five seconds for your Echo Wife ask I've been vibrating to answer 💖

#🫘 this was a terrible idea #batsasks #What Are You Waiting For? #bibatrambles

[justadiva]

3 marriage proposals girl omg??? what’s your secret!!! and why did you turn them all down, if you’re comfortable answering in general terms 👀

lol I don't mind sharing! they were all very wild experiences and less indicative of me than of the men in question however know going into this that I have never been broken up with, and am a hussy

[tw to the first paragraph for emotional domestic abuse + trauma dump]

First guy was my first real relationship out of high school. like I slept around in college but this was the first guy I Dated. I was 18, he was 29, lots of behind the scenes grooming and emotional stuff which you know its hard to know where the line blurs between neglect and abuse but like if your 18 year old gf is crying next to you and you laugh and turn away from her like maybe youre the asshole?? sorry-- trauma dump but you asked!! anyways we had a crazy experience where he had a health emergency (because we were fucking please keep this in mind) that sent him to the hospital and thats where I met his parents and from that point on they just decided I was a member of the family (I have Extremely Wild Memories of this family). The part that kept me around was that I was Very Close to his niece who lived with him, her mom was out of the picture and so she really took to me and I to her.

2 years later... he has not told me he loves me (nor I him!), but says that we should get married; that he would never want children of his own and that a wedding ring and an actual wedding would be too expensive. Better to get it on paper and nothing else. A few months later from his "proposal" he didn't speak to me for 11 days, and in those 11 days I realized how great my life was without him. I drove to his house (we were long distance at the end of our relationship, I always drove to him and he would never visit me) knocked on his door, greeted his brother, said a sincere goodbye to his niece and then took my book off his bookshelf. He followed me out and was/acted extremely confused; wanted to talk things out but I was done.

Guy 2! Met through a mutual friend, dated for 2 weeks before he said "I love you" (fun fact about me: I hadn't told a man "I love you" once in my whole damn life [thank you man #1!!] until 1 month ago to my current boyfriend) It was fun at first because basically like every single one of our kinks overlapped and that was *fantastic* and I learned a lot about myself in those two months, and like one of his kinks was worshiping/spoiling me, and I'm super into that, but I'm also aloof like a cat. I must be worshiped as the sun, but like.. dont touch me SO MUCH (except my now bff muah) and he was SO needy. and my aloofness really hurt his sensitive puppy feelings.

He also didn't have a lot of skills or interests outside of hockey, which he was extremely good at and I wouldn't be surprised if he makes something of himself with it (this was fun for me cause I like to ice skate and I would skate sometimes while they practiced so the team like me-- hockey slang and dudes are fun!) oh and drinking, he was german [but his name was french] and he could and would drink anyone under the table. But yeah drinking and hockey are not the 2 skills I want the future father of my children to have, and like a month and 1/2 into our really great sex he made the mistake (after the mistake of telling me he loved me during puppy love... I find false declarations to be extremely off putting.) of saying something about "our daughter" and I was like hold up.

I didn't know where to squeeze this in until now: he gave me a ring! so it was his most prized possession that he had gotten after a (deep breath) pilgrimage? in norway where over the course of his journey the blacksmith made and engraved this ring for him that was also a symbol of his soul and his devotion to Freya <- yes he was a Heretic which I am all for cause he was the woke non-racist kind but yeah I was like oh thank you for your soul ring, I like trinkets :D and because he was several times my size the ring didnt fit me so I wore it in on the same chain as my fidget ring.

Then, later? cant remember how long I had the ring- he told me at ihop that he wanted to take me to germany to meet his family so that he could give me his grandmother's wedding ring and then we could be properly married. He explained to me then that ever since I accepted his norse ring that we were married. I was DEVASTATED for him y'all dont understand. I feel so bad about breaking peoples hearts and honestly everything he was doing was *technically*?? romantic but I was like PLEASE save your Grandmother's ring for someone who loves you and has *told you that she loves you* and, I told him in plain english, someone who he had known for longer than 2 months.

He dropped me off from breakfast, I gave him back the first ring [he tried to make me keep it. I put it on the ground in front of him outside my house] and calmly broke up with him while he broke down into tears. I held him and shushed him and said no you may not call me and no we will not be seeing each other again and wished him the best. Then went inside leaving him to cry out there. He knocked a few times but I was busy not answering the door. Hope he's well!

#3 I met through a different mutual friend! he's still only an acquaintance + we're on good terms. (fun fact he has the same name as my dad!) He's autistic and aromantic, very antisocial but extremely intelligent + cool dude. The weird part was that he's from old money and is the "heir" and needs an heir himself. So he, as one of our first interactions + actually without ever meeting me but only knowing of me through our mutual friend proposed.

Breakdown: We would be married like Victorian Style, married in title but without romance + I would have a yearly salary basically for having 1 son (like invitro eugenics style so like its 5sure a boy and I would only have 1 child), and raising him lovingly in the household of (but not underfoot of) my husband. I am slightly off my own rocker so I genuinely contemplated this and broke down the pros and cons.

PROS: I can be a housewife its a skillset and I have it. (oh maybe thats why I get dudes who want a Wife tm) He'd set me up for life like super legal style and thats sexy. I could sleep around! It was like part of the deal! We could each have our partners as long as it wouldn't affect the boy (we're getting to that) [I could divorce him after the boy went to college and retain my yearly salary!] + he even was like "we dont have to have sex" but I was offended by this honestly because Im a vixen.

CONS: Really and truly the only cons are that I cannot see how this situation would not traumatize The Boy and if I ever did have A Son And Heir he would become My One True Love and Obsession [throw back to me being crazy :)] and I could not bare for him to be traumatized.

So yeah I just basically said "Thank you for the very cool offer but I cannot accept." and he was like "Contact me if you ever change your mind." The reason I actually even wrote those tags earlier was I was thinking to myself that if my current relationship doesnt work out that I would call him.

#anon you have to reveal yourself so ppl dont think I sent this to myself #the secret is being down to clown #I have a huge threshold for crazy until the day that I am done with it #i also think being aloof has something to do with it a lot of men tell me im just like their mother...

[purpleyoonn]

Hello Mari, I've read a lot of your works and loved every single one and (I'm very shy sending you a message so please bare with me), you inspired me to write again. I've always loved reading and there was once a time where I was into writing but I was a child back then and yeah basically you're one of the writers here that inspired me to write again. Thank you for that really, and I wanna ask you if it's alright with you to critic my work? It's okay if you're not up to it, you don't owe me anything, I just wanted to ask really

Thank you again Mari, and I hope you continue to write more because life sucks and you're one of the few authors who spice it up for me.

(ps: I feel very doubtful whether sending this is the best decision because I don't want you to feel I'm trying to do something here, I really just want someone to critic my work and you're really good at writing and I wanna improve. Again, feel free to say no, I wouldn't take offense to it. 💜💜💜)

omg hello!! im finally able to answer your ask!! pls don't be shy with me! im sometimes awful at answering asks but I try me best!

awww I feel happy that ive been able to inspire you to start writing again. I have my own fanfic writers actually who inspired me to start writing again.

however, I do not feel that I am in a place to critic any work. I myself feel that I am horrible at critiquing because I never know what to say. I only know how I feel and usually, if I start not liking or enjoying something, I will immediately quit. I also never know whether someone is actually wanting a critic or wanting me to lie and say something just to better their feelings.

Im sorry if that doesn't make sense. But I can give writing advice!

-having a notebook where you jot down ideas or even write down paragraphs or scenes that you imagine. This is what I do and it is the best way that ive found that works for me to remember what I want to write. I write down plots and character notes and even background information.

-write write write. practice makes better. just keep writing. using writing prompts to improve your genres and how you write. it can get your creative juices flowing and help improve your writing devices as well.

-explore different genres if you can and find what you like. Ive found that I enjoy writing soulmate aus and fantasy aus. I enjoy the idea of what could be and the realms that hold possibilities. anything can be what I make it but still hold onto the collective rules that the fanfic community has bestowed upon certain genres like werewolf stories and hybrid ones. ive also noticed that I have an affliction to writing darker stories. like yandere and mafia. ive had numerous readers tell me how well I write those stories and I have fun with them as well.

im sorry I don't feel comfortable critiquing your work but I hope that my small bits of advice do help you in your writing journey😊

#purpleyoonn #purpleyoonn ask

[desolindistress]

i'm on my way through week three, keep telling myself it's not me. not my fault, not my words dripping to the floor and my tears, drying on my hands reaching for the door. i keep pretending this temporary high and the end, it was all enough and worth it and i was expecting it, i was expecting to lose a friend. but i know in my heart that's not true, fucked over every single safeguard and lost my stability for you.

protect me, heavens above pour rain on my head and hold me, please hold me like you did two months ago as you mumbled into my ear that you know i like hugs. yes, we are both the types of people to protect our friends, but one of us seems more consistent than the other, hmm? teach me again, give me those precious ten minutes as we ran punching drills until i learned to jab properly because a properly placed jab is the most efficient way to get out of a fight and you want me to be safe. i never took our hours for granted but my god, i didn't want to admit that i knew they would end when i was so sure i could see a future where they lasted forever.

forget and forgive and make me believe like you did when you told me you would be here until i got sick of you. somehow this numb nothingness is both better and worse than the pain i felt before. i miss missing you, that ghostly absence as tangible as a presence, and i miss hurting because at least then i was feeling something for somebody. at least i still had my faith, my conviction, or at the very end my hope. now, even checking how much time has passed between my texts left unanswered doesn't sting, just aches like the itch of an addiction barely kicked and still compellingly habitual.

i told some girl i like her in a love letter the other day, and she told me she loved me too. she is discontent with our friendship but also maybe just wants to kiss a friend. do you know how much it hurts that i am always just second place? you told me so much, too much, but when you're busy it's like you never needed me in the first place. why couldn't i be enough?

i get so fucking angry sometimes, feel the mania take over and try to encase my hands in thick chains in my mind, try to hold them steady against my body as i reach for the words and start to type. because this is a bad idea. i can't text somebody, can't write these paragraphs. i'll go back to reading in two months when i am crying staring at the ceiling and reaching, reaching for you. or somebody will text me, asking how i am, and i won't know how to answer because i don't know whose blood is on my hands. i wish you were here. i wish i had someone to reach out for who would take me bloody hands and all.

i miss you, okay? damnit. i miss you. sitting here still fucking crying over you, it's pathetic and insane and unhinged, like me, like how i feel right now in the depths of my low that's been overtaking me all week. i'm sinking, the titanic under frigid ocean waves, but i still remember when you were holding my limp body above the water so i could just fucking breathe. now i have to learn how to swim all by myself, and i'm too fucking exhausted to do it, and i just want to let go and lose it all.

breathe, just breathe. breathe like a fighter breathes, in rapid bursts between punches. breathe out when you are taking the blows so you don't get the breath knocked out of you. it's no surprise that i was the worst at breathing. look at me now, writhing breathless on the floor as life delivers blow after blow. you would tell me to calm down, slow the fight and analyze, keep my guard up as i find the weak spots i can exploit. i know how to fight, even if i was too slow and disappointing. another thing for me to hate about myself. but if this was a fight i would tap out. i can't tap out of life, can't tap out of the stranglehold around my neck that is dragging my face into the dirt as if my rotting frame could fertilize new life.

i will be okay again, and then i will be not okay again. i just hope one day it won't be you i'm pining over in every moment, every day. you don't deserve it, and i deserve better. i guess that's what happens when people stop talking to me. it's fine, it's alright, i'll move on and learn to fight. i'll stay in second place because it's better than last place, and if that means all my good things need to end then so be it. i am done with the delusion of more. i will never get more out of this life, and i should've known that since the very beginning.

[love-advice-on-call]

I’m really struggling to trust my boyfriend, I know it’s an issue on my end as I’m very much an over thinker and someone who gets very very anxious over small things, he went out to some clubs last night and I felt so anxious I thought I was going to throw up, he was messaging me the whole night but I didn’t feel any better, I got basically no sleep. My worry was partly because of how his friends are, both have cheated/do cheat on their s/o and are borderline dangerous, they take any drug going, get so drunk they pass out, start fights, and encourage him to do the same. I have no idea how to tell him it makes me feel awful because I don’t want to drive a wedge between him and his friends, but I genuinely hate them. It also doesn’t help that my boyfriend is seeming single on all forms of social media, I’m not someone who likes my relationship posted everywhere as I’m quite private online, however knowing the kind of people his friends are and how his online presence doesn’t reflect his relationship makes me seriously doubt him. He also knows I’m a very insecure person, I try not to let it affect our relationship as I know once again it’s my issue not his, I’ve always been really paranoid about him seeing my body and I constantly compare myself to other girls, he’s reassured me he finds me attractive/loves me as I am, but he follows a lot of girls on Instagram and TikTok, two of which i don’t know how he knows, and I see them as everything I’m not, It makes me feel awful about myself and I feel like I’m a psycho if I say anything. I’m scared as I really don’t want to lose him, he’s wonderful with literally everything apart from these things. I’m so scared.

Sorry for the late reply (I'm in between moving right now):

Well I think it's valid to be worried of your boyfriends fidelity if his friends are jerks, but just because his friends are jerks doesn't mean that he is. "a lot of girls" is also really up to opinion, I'm a guy and have followed models on social media while in relationships, but it doesn't necessarily reflect anything on my partner. Look, you wrote out this long ask listing out all these things, either your boyfriend is cheating or he isn't, but what seems to be a clearer problem to me here is your insecurity and anxiety. I mean, it seems to be so strong that it's making hard for you to think straight and to also think about yourself in a positive way.

this paragraph is just a side note of what I really think, but my best advice to you is regardless of what you're worried your boyfriend *might* be doing, for your sake I think it would be best if we didn't focus on that right now. I get you really love and care about him, but him not cheating isn't going to solve your insecurity. What I recommend is that you get yourself into therapy and work this out because this seems to me as a classic case of being insecure with anxiety. And I know that sounds like a simple answer, but it's really a complex solution for a complex problem. If you don't have access to therapy, then I suggest searching up self help books on anxiety, especially relating to being insecure in relationships. I'm not familiar with any books, but you can refer to https://www.psychologytoday.com/us to find a therapist or even just getting in contact with one to get book recommendations should be free.

Now, the core of your original question of how to tell him you don't like his friends. This will take some assertiveness on your end. I think you should let him know how you're feeling by being honest with him. Let him know that you get how important his friends are to him, but let him know you feel like they are bad influences and why. Basically, validate that he really loves his friends and you, but let him know what bothers you about them. Not what is wrong with him, but what they do and push for. The reasons you told me I think are valid enough. Now what could happen from my perspective is that he likely wont want to ditch his friends (which is also understandable), but at least he does sound like a good guy (based on what you described) so maybe talking to him will let him do some much needed reassurance that he isn't going to cheat on you and importantly, that he is not like his friends in this regard. It can also give him time to think about what you said.

I know things are tough right now and what you're going through is no joke, but these things take time to work on.

Posted May 4, 2022

#advice #love advice #relationship help #relationships

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #tony stark fluff #im so sorry im not on here oftennnnnnnnnnnn #dentla schools too busy and i dont wike it #thats not true i do like it its just busy and stressful and doesnt give me time to write #and smut takes me longer to write than fluff #so i can only write fluff rnnnnnn #anyway i miss you all #love you all #hope the universe treats you welllll

[pleasantanathema]

Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

#writer recs #bnha #haikyuu #attack on titan #fanfiction #bnha fanfic #hq fanfic #aot fanfiction #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader #aot x reader #amazing writers #pleasant speaks #my hero academia #haikyuu!! #my hero academia fanfic

[simonalkenmayer]

I don’t get the problem. I’ve been here a while and I still can’t figure out why anyone started hate blogging about you or kept it up after they saw you talk. I don’t get what’s happening in their heads. What is their problem?

To be quite blunt, I don't know the answer to that.

There have always been bullies and always will be, and this has been a fascinating way of observing them, but in all honestly, I still don't comprehend what motivates it entirely. As near as I can tell...they're just miserable people.

So here's how it began. Over four years ago, I began seeing comments from the isdead blog in the notes of my posts. They were obviously meant to be passive aggressively pretentious, to get my attention. So one day, I said "oh not him again" or something like that. He replied. After a moment, I went to him privately and explained that i didn't want him to use my pen name in his URL. I gave a list of reasons including his safety. For each one he had an explanation as to why I should be flattered, or why I deserved it. Any objection i raised got explained away in a way that allowed him to justify keeping his brilliant choice of name (he made sure to tell me exactly what he thought it meant over my objection). I said that I might press legal action if he didn't respect my wishes. He didn't care. In fact, he mocked me for it. I let it alone, because an international case of copyright infringement is both difficult to win, and also would out me to the world. But really he was the perfect candidate to study as a bully, because of how he began to behave.

Shortly after this private conversation, he turned his blog into a "critique" of me, though he never actually read any of my published work until just over a year ago, because he "didn't want to give me money" (never mind the books were free). In actuality, his critique of me was to read subtext into literally everything I produced, obtusely misread whole paragraphs, insert emotion where none existed, nitpick my grammar, accuse me of every single thing he could think of over these last nearly five years, and conduct himself as hypocritically as possible. I can't make heads or tales of his reasoning. Frankly, I don't think there is one. He began it on a whim because he didn't like that I asked him to stop, and spent the intervening time building justifications for why he is right to "talk shit". He even went so far as to say I should have known better, when someone sent me explicit sexual content I specifically said I didn't want. He also denied any responsibility he bears for the various things that have been done, like fire starting or sending me poisonous food. I'm sure he's completely blameless, never mind he's made his blog a rallying point for people who are also bullies and have threatened to stalk me on his very blog, in his very ask box. he thinks that because he gave a tacit "Oh don't do that because it's illegal" that means he has no responsibility. I beg to differ, but that is beside the point, because I came to study and online bullying was one I knew I could see with this experimental model. Didn't quite expect it to look like that, but...beggars can't be choosers.

I thought at first they'd figure out they were being studied, but they never did. So finally, when someone else brought it up because they spotted it, I thought to myself, I might as well tell them and see what they do. So I did. I told them. Flat out. "You're being studied as bullies in an online social task-based network." I even gave a small crash course in Group Dynamics and Narcissists within a group who decide to occupy blocking roles. They replied with conjecture that my experiment was fake? Why? Because they can't possibly be the bullies, I suppose. It wasn't a fake.

Essentially, they've accused the owner of this blog of every crime under heaven, including grooming minors, because I once gave a 17 year old advice on how to fill out a FAFSA. If I was one quarter as bad as they've made me out to be after six years on Tumblr trying to find fault with me, then I'd already have been arrested. Yet here i am, actually just sitting here, doing the same thing I've always done, regardless of them and their petulance. The truth is, I've not done a damn thing, and this annoys them, so they have to invent outrage and farm for righteousness. They need me to be a villain they can vanquish, because they know without that tag of righteousness, they're just bullies, targeting someone online, behaving like school children.

It was fascinating and interesting when I was actively studying it, but now it's just flat out stupid and I don't have patience for it. I'm no longer recording their blogs. I'm no longer gathering data on them. I no longer care. So of course they're going to come visit me more than ever and make passive aggressive remarks.

That's what this is. Here's a perfect metaphor: I moved into the neighborhood. Someone saw me, thought I might be "cool" and stole my look. I didn't notice. They decided to get my attention. They'd leave me passive aggressive post it notes on my door about my lawn gnomes. I told them not to come onto my property because it's mine, and they decided this made me satan and spent almost five years looking out their window at my house so they could punish me every time I watered my yard, or painted my trim an odd color. We have the same flags in our yards. We have the same gnomes even, but here this person is, going around gossiping to neighbors, because he's bored and I told him no, so long ago. The ability to sustain and manufacture outrage would be impressive if I wasn't so bored of it.

And let's not even bring up the Tupperware, how it supposedly makes me antisemitic, and why me joking about how fucking ridiculous that is also makes me antisemitic. Or how refusing to call him a fool makes me transphobic. Or that saying I'm studying racism in fiction makes me racist. Or that trying to out-logic a TERF makes me a terf? I can't keep track of any of it anymore. It's all just contortionist nonsense of the cerebrum because they're all petty bullies who need a fix. I'm ableist because I won't TL;DR my private thoughts on my blog. I'm ableist because I asked DID people to tell me what it was like for them so that I could understand it better. It's all just...so stupid. I'm a villain for doing good things. I'm damned whether or not I do.

So...nothing I can do.

There's no fixing them. They have to decide that they want to stop, and they won't do that as long as this endeavor gives them something to feel self-righteous about. I'd argue the world has enough of a supply for them to find a real thing to argue against, but apparently since I represent every bad thing on the earth, I'll do.

I'm not going to apologize for existing. For doing my experiment. For putting out surveys. For studying bullying, or fiction, or viral communication. I won't apologize for getting paid for my work. I won't apologize for being candid. I won't apologize for asking for help, for not knowing everything, for learning as I go. I won't apologize to them for their miserable lives i didn't create, their anger, their self-loathing. I won't apologize for crimes they manufacture whole cloth, or for being more well-liked than them, or having more followers, or a sense of humor and the ability to take things less seriously. I won't apologize for not being as obsessed with them as they are with me, and honestly knowing almost nothing about them. I won't apologize for tracking their IP when they come to my page. I won't apologize for laughing at the things they insist on making so bloody stupid. I won't accept their version of reality, simply because they think they may have spoken to one person who says they knew me and met me once. I won't be called names because they feel entitled to throw them. I am not their property or their entertainment.

This is why I keep telling them to get a hobby or a life. Over and over. And yet here we are still. Years later.

I came here to do a thing. Along the way i found i enjoyed it a bit, and was using it to also do good work. So I decided to stay. I don't know why they're here or what they get out of it. I won't surmise. But I will say, they will never as long as they live admit wrong-doing, even if i show them a dissertation on the model of online bullying they became.

They're always right. I'm always wrong. People who read my blog are misguided cult members who are mentally ill and can't be trusted with money. All the people who follow that blog are noble cause fighters on a quest to kill a savage beast. I mention them bullying me and they're my victims. They bully me and are honorable because of it.

Here's a thought: It's also possible to be right, but still be a bully. It's possible to pick on someone instead of solving a problem you know exists. It's possible to agree with someone in every way, but still behave in an abusive or deconstructionist way. It's possible to be well-intentioned but do the worst possible thing to someone.

Bullying is about YOUR behavior. Not the target's.

Anyway, to get back to the ask...I cannot give you an answer. I don't know why they got this particular bug up their bung holes. I don't know why they've nursed it for so long. I don't know why they don't comprehend layers of identity, or curation of content, or what an experiment actually is. I don't know why they have such a hard on for me, except that I am apparently very sexy.

It's all complete nonsense to me, but I'm sure they're right, I'm wrong, my friends are bastards and somewhere there's a tumblr god who gives a merciless shite.

#24hourchaos

[wisteria-lodge]

snake primary + snake secondary (bird model)

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I’m having a lot of confusion over my secondary, so a second opinion to help me untangle things would be lovely.

I’m pretty confident I’m a Snake with a Badger model that determines what I do when my people aren’t involved. Essentially, people are always important, but my people are most important to me. When push comes to shove I will protect them first (or feel worse about myself if I fail to).

So far, so good.

I think my secondary is at least a little burnt, in part because I’ve always struggled with interacting with people and don’t tend to think of myself as someone who’s capable of making an impact in people’s lives when it matters. I can remember several situations where I didn’t reach out to someone who needed my help, especially one of mine, because I was convinced that person would never want help from me. 

That’s proper burnt secondary talk. You knew what you wanted to do, you knew what would feel good to do, but you DIDN’T do it because you didn’t think it would work.

I know better than to do that now, and I’m trying to get better at believing in my own abilities (and the fact that other people can want me around). I’m hoping it’ll help to get a better idea of what those abilities even are.

You’re unBurning. Good.

I’ve thought ever since I first discovered this sorting system that I must be an improvisational secondary. I’ve never thought of myself as a fan of plans and prepwork - I get stressed out that I’ll forget important things and be left stranded. I remember back in high school when I was getting used to using public transport, my mum went with me to do a trial run of a route I needed to travel in advance. I was stressed enough about the event I was travelling to as it was, and the trail run made it so much worse, because there was so much to remember, what if I forgot something? What eventually made me feel more comfortable about it was trusting myself to figure it out on the day.

What a gorgeous way to explain the difference between a Built (prepwork) secondary and an Improvisational secondary. Trial runs make me feel so much better and so much more comfortable. And I’m a built secondary (and I bet your mom is too.)

Nowadays, when I’m travelling somewhere I’m unfamiliar with I’d much rather just leave half an hour early to give myself some breathing room in case I mess up.

Perfect. Excellent improvisational secondary problem solving.

Following strict schedules just trips me up too - say I’m doing classwork for the afternoon, for example, I need the freedom to be able to say that actually I’m more in the mood for Subject B than Subject A. I like having space to improvise, and I feel really proud of myself when I pull off something on the fly!

Once for a final exam in high school, we had to write an essay for The Lord of the Flies using a set of quotes from the text we’d chosen and memorised beforehand. The essay question was only revealed in the exam, and it turned out to be asking us to write an essay about one specific character - except I didn’t have enough quotes for any one character, I’d deliberately made them very spread out. What I did instead was to argue for the symbol of the Lord of the Flies as a character, and make each paragraph about each different character’s relationship to ‘him’ and what that relationship revealed about the characters, so I could make use of my range of quotes. I’m sure my writing wouldn‘t hold up now, I’ve gotten better at writing since then, but I still think of it as one of the essays I’m proudest of.

I would have given you an A. That sounds brilliant.

So that all seems to point to an improvisational secondary, but - reading about Rapid-Fire Birds has made me question whether that’s actually what I’m doing instead, and I have no idea how to tell. What‘s the difference between an improvisational secondary using information they already have to help them improvise, and a Rapid-Fire Bird doing the same thing? To what extent can Birds dislike relying on lists and planning?

You’re an Improvisational secondary. A pretty loud improvisational secondary (and almost certainly a Snake because you value the ability to pivot quickly so highly.) Rapid-fire birds can *look* like Snakes from the outside, but it’s a totally different internal experience. A rapid-fire bird might be comfortable improvising their bus route - but only in an area that they already know super well. Rapid-fire birds look like Snakes… as long as they are operating within their area of expertise, are coming from a place of strength.

And where does looking for more information while you solve a problem, rather than beforehand, fit within the secondaries?

Feeling more comfortable and confident looking *around* you while solving a problem (versus bringing in a bag of tricks at the start) is an Improvisational secondary thing.

When I’m involved in a debate about something that relies on a piece of information - a definition of a word, a statistic, some sort of other fact - I’m known as the person who’ll pull out my phone and say ’oh! I’ll Google it!’.

This might be a Bird [model] thing, but I’m inclined to think it’s just a person thing.

(Sometimes people don’t seem to get why I do that - they’ll say it looks like I’m taking things too seriously when it’s just a silly discussion for fun? But it just makes sense to me, we need information and that information is easily in reach, why shouldn’t I go get it, silly conversation or not?)

Okay, scratch that, I actually think this is a generational thing. *Baby Boomers* get annoyed at me when I do this.

I’m the same way when I research for writing. I don‘t tend to go looking for specific resources when I don’t have a story on them planned, but I love digging into specific subjects and resources and systems to ground a story in, once I have a concept to work with and I know what could be useful. 

I love digging into complex systems in general, really (hello, sorting hat chats!). But it’s not like I do it because I think it’ll be useful later - unless I know it will be, because it’s relevant to a problem I’ve already been presented with. And I know just having nerdy interests does not a true Bird make.

I think you probably have a fun Bird model.

But if I’m not a Bird - or if it’s only a model - which improvisational secondary do I even have? I’ve always figured Lion seems more likely, because I’ve never related to the ‘silver-tongued’ skill of Snakes.

I wonder if you relate at all to the idea of single-player snake - constantly pivoting, using their environment, problem solving on the fly. I think of Scotty from Star Trek - someone I would never describe as silver-tongued, and who’s happy being solitary. But he still problem solves the way a Snake does.

I do tend to be pretty stubborn and dig my heels in when I’m challenged, in a quiet sort of way. But the difference between charging or swerving when you head for something has always seemed hard to grasp, for me. When you’ve got something to go for, you just… go, and some obstacles can be barged through and some you can’t, so you try and then go around.

I actually think that’s a very Snake way of putting things. A Lion would say that you *can* punch though everything, given enough will power and enough time. It’s what makes their energy so intoxicating, and where a lot of their power and trustworthiness comes from. They keep at something until they fail.

(oh and also ~ I have noticed that generally, Lion secondaries make no sense to Snake secondaries and vice versa.)

I do relate more to a Lion’s interacting with everyone mostly the same - with ‘varying degrees of awkwardness’, as I think another asker phrased it - rather than creating masks for everyone on the fly. But I’m not sure anymore if that’s powerful for me or if it’s just… all I can do. This goes back to being burnt socially, I think - I feel like I‘m working with nothing at all when I talk to people.

Whatever secondary I’ve got, I don’t think I’m capable of using its ‘multiplayer’ skills very well. Or at least, I haven’t learnt to yet, and I feel like I‘ve gotten worse. Although, more than a year of not being able to talk to most people in person hasn’t helped.

Yeah, you and me both. You’re a little burned about this, which makes sorting hard. You might just be a Snake who… isn’t very social.

And as for Lions valuing authenticity… I do and I don’t? I’m not sure if that’s just because I’m a private person and I don’t like exposing all of myself and my interests and opinions, it makes me feel vulnerable.

I know it sounds crazy, but if you were a Lion, that would make you feel strong.

But I won’t lie about myself if someone asks about something I’m not willing to share, I’ll usually find something that’s still true and answers their question but’s less personal. To what extend do Lions do that? 

Generally, “I don’t owe strangers the real me” is just… not something Lions secondaries think. Sometimes they lower their intensity. But they are unusual because they feel best and strongest when they put themselves out there.

But I also think that any ‘mask’ you create is still, to a great extent, a part of you and a reflection of who you are. People talk about it like you have a ‘core’ that is completely you and then a performance you make on top is automatically ‘fake’. That doesn’t make sense to me.

That’s because you’re a Snake. If you were a Lion, you would relate more to this idea of an ideal presentational “core.”

Performances can be helpful to express yourself, in a sense. And everything you make is self-portrait.

That is an incredibly Snake thing to say. Also, Snakes have a tendency to conceptualize their masks as “art.”

In any case - I hope this wasn‘t too long. Thank you for helping me sort through all of this!

You are very welcome. I thought this one was really interesting.

#sortinghatchats #snake secondary #snakesec #lion secondary vs snake secondary #snake primary #bird secondary model #sortme #wisteria sorts

[sinnamonrasinslut]

The Ease With Which We Hurt [I] ICorpse Husband x Fem!ReaderI

A/N: You guys. I have never simultaneously loved AND hated a piece that I wrote. I really don’t know how I feel about this, but I promised myself last year that I wouldn’t overthink my writing, so here we are. This is part one of most likely four, but we’ll see about that. Thank you to everyone in my inbox who gave me ideas to turn this into a multi chapter fic! They’re all coming, I promise :)

SYNOPSIS: Corpse loves her, she loves Corpse. But both of them are too dumb to realize it, and too afraid to admit it. 

It started, like most good things in his life, out of the blue.

He met her three years ago. Well, not met, but befriended her three years ago when her podcast was just taking off. He remembers sending her a DM about how great her work was, remembers her being gracious in her praise of his own narrations after and he remembers talking to her well into the night until she fell asleep. The rest, to Corpse, is history.

And yet, all he knows of her is a voice, a name, and the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. she chooses to wear a mask every time they FaceTime, just for the formality of the entire ‘faceless’ situation. She’s told him she thinks it’s ironic, how she feels like he knows her inside out, and she’s still afraid to show him her face. It’s not like corpse can blame her. She doesn’t even know his name, let alone what he looks like, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t filed him away as some no face creep by this point. 

But she hasn’t. She’s still here, after three years of being her friend, and almost a year of seeing her eyes and convincing himself that she’s his friend, damnit, she’s still here. It’s already a lot more than he can ask for.

He’s been holding himself back from falling in love. Or rather, he’s been in love for as long as he can remember, but he's been adamant on denying it; because he knows how this goes. It’s never gone well for him in the past. And he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s afraid. But sometimes, she tells him things that make his heart break, just out of the realization of how absolutely fucking stupid he's being, holding back from her.

He’s convinced that when he dies, she’s going to be the light at the end of his tunnel. That heaven means nothing more to him than a place in her world, however small, however insignificant, as long as he gets to see her eyes for the rest of eternity.

Every part of corpse tells him that it's love. But he tries to push it away, suppress his own feelings till he's nothing but a walking contradiction, overflowing with voices that only say her name.

But he’s tired. And he's scared. Because he’s been down that road before, opened himself up to people who haven’t liked what they saw and left with pieces of him he’s not sure how to tape back. He’s unsure if he's willing to let her try.

So, he settles for a small corner of her world, a little piece of her existence that gives him life, and every time he talks to her, hands flailing as she animatedly tells another story, he pushes the yearning to the back of his head till it crawls down and clings to his windpipe, unsure and immeasurable, and he can’t speak anymore without choking. But then she says things that make his heart jump into his throat, and then he’s choking but for entirely different reasons.

“What would you do if I was gone?”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Well, he does, a little bit, but his brain isn’t taking over every part of his body trying to convince him he’s unwanted, so he doesn’t mean it like that. He’s only curious, maybe in need of a little reassurance. And nobody does reassurance better than her.

She doesn’t say anything for a very long moment. Corpse knows the gist of her impending answer but the pause still blooms unnecessarily in his chest. But it’s not like they haven’t done this before.

“I’d write about you.”

“Huh?”

She only huffs a laugh at his confusion. She pulls a blanket closer around her and props up her phone to rest against what he assumes is a wall.

“You’re not easy to forget, Corpse,” her voice is soft, truthful without flattery, provides comfort without justification. “if you were gone, I’d write about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s the least I’d need to cope.”

It’s not what he thought he’d hear, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that it’s exactly what he needed. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her. 

“Besides,” she continues, hair falling in her face as she adjusts the blanket, “there is no place for me in a world without you in it.” 

 And he physically feels his heart stop and clench in his chest. The thought of meaning this much to anyone, to her in particular, is more than he knows how to handle. So, he doesn’t follow that up with a quip, no teasing laughter, no suggestive, exaggerated winks that only he can see. He only lets himself bask in the warmth of her honesty, lets her smile at him in that way only she does, the way that makes him freeze and ache and crumble.

He chooses not to talk after that, settles for listening to her tell stories about her childhood. Her voice is the purest thing he’s ever heard, he’d hear her talk till the world ended if he could, and the sweet lilt of her voice lulls him to sleep hours after she’s hung up the phone.

He doesn’t get to talk to her for almost two weeks after that. He misses her a little, but he keeps that to himself, and instead, tags her under dumb twitter memes and sends her pictures of cats that he’s saved specifically for times like these, and another video of two geckos fighting on a tree captioned ‘u and me’ .

There’s no place for me in a world without you in it.

The words wrap around his ribs like a noose, tightening by the second. Some days, when his heart is fast enough to beat out of his ribcage, it grounds him just as much as it hurts. But when she’d said it to him, it passed through him like a train wreck, distorting all semblance of control he’d convinced himself he had.

He knows it’s ridiculous, but he loves her. She’s only a voice through his phone and eyes on his screen and he has no clue what the rest of her looks like, but he’d be damned if he lets himself deny it one more time. He loves her. And that’s the most terrifying thought he’s ever entertained.

It doesn’t take long after that realization takes root, for him to send her a picture. He doesn’t let himself think too much about it. Taking pictures of himself is still new to him, but he tries his best. Don't think about it too much, he reminds himself, and unsurprisingly, it's her voice in his head that does all the soothing. He captions it something stupid, more out of habit than anything else (my hair makes me look like Dora the exploraH), with his name across his forehead and ‘Dora’ in brackets beside it. 

Momentarily, he wonders if he’s ever asked her if she even wants to see his face. (He has, and he distantly remembers her agreeing as long as he’s comfortable with it.)

He hits send before he has the chance to stop and think. 

Then he waits. 

Her response is quicker than he’s prepared for, her name flashing across the facetime request on his phone. He’s giggling before he even picks it up. 

“CORPSE, WHAT THE FUCK!” 

For a very long moment, they just stare, taking each other in. This is his endgame, corpse thinks, he’s never going to need to show anyone his face after this, nothing, no one will matter as much. 

With a jolt, he realizes that she’s not wearing her mask. He can see her, all of her, and that on its own should be enough to take him out.

And then she smiles. 

If there was any doubt in his mind before about how head over heels he is, she’s taken it out of his mind and stomped it to the ground. He’s not the poet in this friendship, but he’s assured he could write entire paragraphs about the way she smiles. And he tells her exactly that. 

“I’m curious to see how that would fit with fine lass nice ass cat ears and she uwu,” she teases, eye twinkling with mirth, “but I'm sure you’ll figure it out.” 

He’s both amazed and amused at how quickly they go from fawning to bantering. But perhaps that’s the thing about her that feels so familiar.

“I will write a song about you baby, don’t tempt me.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“It’s a confession,” he shrugs, suddenly shy, unsure of where to lead with this. Thankfully, she interjects before he has to say anything else. 

“That’s an awfully bold confession for a man called Corpse.”

“I’m also awfully alive for a man called Corpse, but you don’t see me complaining.” Awfully alive and not enough husband, he wants to say, but he keeps that to himself. 

“You complain about being alive everyday, Mister Husband,” she counters and Corpse groans, dropping his head into his hands. 

“I say that to you in confidence,” he grits out, playfully glazing at her.

“You also tell about a million people on stream, I’m not special,” she laughs. 

“You are very special to me.” His voice is soft, shy, almost afraid to tell her the things he’s saying, “I did say I’d write a song about you. Pretty special if you ask me.”

She hums, taking a huge gulp of water and nodding enthusiastically. 

“Correct, me, the cat girl and the e girl. What’s the next single, Corpse? Faceless Girls are ruining my life?” 

“You’re a rascal,” he chides as a familiar warmth settles around his heart, and grips. 

“It is one of my finer qualities, yes.” 

Distantly, some part of his brain registers that this is the first time he’s seen her, but there is no sense of hesitation in his head about her. It feels just like it always has, with her on the phone saying the silliest things, and him responding with equal enthusiasm. This is the way they’ve always been. 

While she talks, hands animatedly moving around, Corpse allows himself a small moment of reprieve to think. He knows he loves her, but he wonders briefly if it’s too soon to be in love with her (he concludes that probably it is, given that she remains unaware of his feelings, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter)

Because while Corpse loves her, he’s sure he doesn't know how to love her. Doesn’t know her favourite flowers even if he knows her coffee order by heart, doesn’t know her ideal date even if he’s memorized every poem she loves. 

The meanest parts of his brain tell him she deserves better, and he knows they’re wrong. But a small part of him can’t help but dwell. He’d rather have her and her unnecessary hand movements in his life as his friend than not at all. So he pushes away his feelings for another day, and just listens to her talk. 

Corpse is perfectly content with that. 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #the ease with which we hurt #coco writes #friends to lovers #we love that trope in this household #if you reblog with stuff in the tags i WILL read it and cry #also if u reblog it with ur favourite part quoted i will cry #i just will cry thats a personality trait lmao #Sometiems i feel like the continuity of his chapter feels rushed #but idk i dont have the patience to fix it so i wont

[itsclydebitches]

Hey there! Admittedly I'm a little bit nervous since this is my first ask, but I'll try to not be too rambly.

So, recently the main subreddit, r/RWBY, made a ban on active users of the r/RWBYcritics subreddit. As a result there's been discussion around bad-faith criticism in the latter subreddit. What are your takes on bad-faith criticism?

For me personally, I think a bunch of people are misusing the term "bad-faith" and using it as a way to shut down criticism, but I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it.

Hey there, everyone! We woke up to some drama this morning, huh? And hello to you too, Tortoise! I'm so glad you decided to send in an ask, even if it's following some pretty tumultuous events...

Right, I'd like to start with a story. The story of how I personally don't spend time on Reddit, but I have plenty of friends who will occasionally cross-post something for me to see. Yesterday (or the day before? Idk time is meaningless) a friend told me about a post — which, significantly, I'm now having trouble finding — that covers RWBY's inconsistent writing and the fandom's tendency to try and explain away those missteps. They'd thought I'd be interested because I'd just had a conversation here on tumblr where I made that exact point to someone who, also significantly, vehemently disagreed with me, but in a very civil fashion. Given everything going on, I feel like this side point needs emphasis: we debated, we did so in a sometimes heated, but nevertheless respectful manner, it was clear neither of us was going to sway the other, and the conversation ended. The two "sides" of the community interacted without Armageddon coming about.

But back to the purpose of this tale. I went to take a look at this point and found that it no longer exists. There's just some vague message about it not obeying the subreddit's rules. "What happened?" I asked. "Why'd they take the post down?" "People were getting too heated in the comments," my friend replies. So, given that the comments were still visible, I proceeded to read through them, expecting personal attacks, slurs, harassment, etc. Any number of things that would justify deleting the post itself to put an end to such behavior. Instead, I found a thread of people having a conversation. Was the conversation heated at times? Sure. Did one or two individual posters edge into the realm of petulant, "No. You're wrong and stupid" responses? Yes. Was any of this remotely what I was expecting given the post's removal? NOPE.

"This isn't allowed?" I said. "Well then what is? People were being civil! Or at least as civil as hundreds of strangers ever get when discussing a series they're passionate about online."

Then, this morning, I hear that the entire critic subreddit has been banned.

So to answer your question, Tortoise, I don't actually think that "good faith" criticism exists. Meaning, it's not just that fans are misusing the term "bad faith criticism," but rather that there is no unified, agreed up method of writing criticism that will meet their standards. It's not possible and we know it's not possible because fans have been trying to meet those elusive standards for years:

A fan posts nothing but praise for RWBY until changes make them criticize the show as it is now. Their entire body of work is dismissed as the product of a "hater," despite the overwhelming gap between positive and negative reviews.

A fan posts a review that's a pretty balanced mix between praise and criticism. They're dismissed because it's still too much criticism.

A fan posts a review that's 99% praise with 1% criticism. That's still too much, with fans focusing on the single problem they had with the work and using it as an excuse to dismiss the entire review out of hand.

(As an aside, the argument that critics are "obsessed" with only saying negative things and that the only problem here is that they're "too" negative ignores the argument that... RWBY has a lot of flaws nowadays. Few are willing to acknowledge the possibility that it's not fans insisting on making things up to be mad about/ignoring the good parts of the show, it's the that show is, as of now, legitimately more of a mess than it is a praise-worthy product. If I'd been writing recaps in the Volumes 1-4 days, my work would have been skewed far more towards the positive. The critics' stance is that RWBY has gotten worse, which yes, results a higher volume of critical posts. To say nothing of how criticism takes far longer to explain, likewise resulting in posts focused primarily on that side of the divide. I really enjoyed the image of a crying Jaune reflected in his sword. I did not enjoy that moment's context. Saying that you liked an animation choice is a one sentence thing. Explaining the complexities of Jaune securing emotional moments, the problems with Penny's second death, the hurt many fans experienced watching an assisted suicide, etc. takes a whooole lot longer. Hence, you get massive, multiple posts about these nuanced topics and fewer, smaller posts about the details that are working well.)

A fan talks about a topic that has been metaphorically banned by the fandom as a whole. They have something good to say about Ironwood. They dislike something about Blake/Yang. They enjoyed Adam as a character. They have a problem with Ruby's leadership, etc. There's a whole list of topics nowadays that will result in an automatic dismissal, regardless of the point the fan is trying to make or how well they make it.

A fan talks about the minority representation of RWBY — its black characters, its queer characters, its disabled characters, etc. — and as a result has something to say about the biases and missteps of those writing these characters. This is considered an attack on the writers and, therefore, automatically bad.

A fan talks about how they enjoyed RWBY as it was years ago and is having trouble reconciling the dark, complicated story with the simple, hopeful one we started out with. This is seen as an attack on Monty's vision and an unwillingness to accept that "everything is planned."

A fan does as asked and ensures that their post is meeting all the requirements of "real" criticism. They have an argument to make. They have a point. They provide evidence. They recommend a solution. They keep their tone respectful. They don't attack the creators. They provide disclaimers in every single paragraph about how they do not hate RWBY. It doesn't matter. They're considered too negative.

I have, quite literally, seen every one of the above examples on multiple occasions. I have had many of the above accusations leveled at my own work. When fans say that they're fine with criticism provided it's not "bad faith" criticism, they don't actually have a specific post-type in mind; a checklist of behaviors another fan can emulate and, provided they do that, no hate will come their way. Or, if an individual fan does actually go, "Yeah. That criticism I'm fine with" that response is in no way universal. One person's "They make a good, civil point" is another person's, "Omg stop bashing the show!" Because "bashing" has come to mean everything from curse-laden insults towards everything RWBY has ever done, to posts that just happen to say something other fans don't agree with.

It's a rigged game. There is no way to post criticism about RWBY in an agreed-upon, appropriate manner. This recent ban is proof of that. I think it's incredibly telling that almost immediately after I was going, "Wow. A pretty calm debate about the flaws of RWBY in the main sub. That's great to see," all posters from the criticism subreddit were banned. The main sub literally just had the sort of criticism that they claim to accept — people respectfully posting analysis-based arguments resulting in calm debate — and yet they implemented the ban anyway. I'm not going to pretend that I've never gotten too heated on my own posts, never made snarky comments when I'm frustrated, never used exaggerated reaction GIFs that can come across as insulting... but I'd say on the whole my RWBY work is precisely the sort of "good faith" criticism that other fans are supposedly looking for. I never make an argument I don't think I can back up with evidence. I try to allow for the nuance and differing opinions of complicated topics. I try — even if I don't always succeed — to write in a clear, respectful manner. Yet none of that work has stopped people from telling me I'm a "bitter... raging asshole," a "deranged, delusional psychopath," telling me to set myself on fire, threatening to smash my head in, or just messages to straight up kill myself. If someone like me who legitimately works hard to create fair, defendable criticism and who only ever posts on a personal blog that people can easily block, who never engages in debate until someone else starts it first, never seeks out other fans I disagree with to harass them about what they like... if someone like me is still a "bad faith" critic who "deserves" that kind of hate mail... then what kind of criticism do people want?

Nothing. That's the answer. No criticism whatsoever, of any kind, no matter if it's delivered respectfully, is making a good point, whatever. That's why "RWDE" was created. That's why the critic subreddit was created. The community at large has demanded a complete separation between Praise and Anything That's Not 100% Praise, which has now resulted in this ban. Any other explanations we see are excuses, which becomes glaringly obvious when you look at the mods' supposed reasons for implementing the ban:

"Constant arguments with r/RWBY users" - As opposed to the arguments surrounding things like shipping that never, ever happen?

"Vote manipulation and comment brigades" - The subreddit with 3,000 participants, with around 200 on at a time, is manipulating the votes of a subreddit with 155,000 participants, with over 1,000 on at a time? Those numbers just do not check out. If a positive post is downvoted, or a critical post upvoted, maybe that's because large swaths of the community actually agree/disagree with that assessment, not because the incredibly smaller group is somehow manipulating things.

"Attacking and harassing those they disagree with" — Again, as opposed to those non-critics that never, ever harass people? This is an individual problem, not a community problem. Both critics and non-critics have their sub-groups acting in ways they shouldn't. If anything, the main sub will have more individuals harassing other fans, simply by virtue of being so much larger. As the above examples attest, it's not other critics who have told me to light myself on fire and, just to be clear, the asks I've responded to are a miniscule number compared to the amount I've received. I delete the lion's share for my own sanity and to save my followers from reading the really graphic threats.

"Months-long NSFL spam brigades" — I am, admittedly, not sure what this is referring to. Spamming of NSFW content? If so, that's also an individual problem.

"Homophobic, transphobic, and racist attacks towards our users" — See the above points. Again. If someone is being homophobic, transphobic, or racist, then yes please, ban them. Don't ban an entire community for the actions of a few. It's like walking into a store and banning a customer for causing a scene... but then also banning everyone else who happened to be shopping at the same time. It's guilt by association.

The silver lining to all this? The community as a whole isn't pleased. At least according to the main subreddit comments and a few individual voices like MurderofBirds. Despite the increase (from my perspective anyway) of critical voices post-Volume 8, criticism of RWBY is still very much seen as taboo. As this ban showcases. But it's really reassuring to see so many fans, critics and non-critics alike, going, "This was a mistake." A community is meant to include all aspects of engagement: praise, criticism, and the gray area between. If anything, fans like the mods of the main subreddit should be creating a separate subreddit that is specifically for praise. In the same way that there should have been a tag for RWBY praise, rather than trying to eliminate any and all criticism from the main "RWBY" tag. The majority of fans, even those who claim to hate critics and all they (presumably) stand for, recognize that a blanket ban of all criticism is not the way to go, especially when "criticism" has come to have such a staggeringly broad definition. If you want your RWBY experience to be nothing but sunshine and roses (ha), then cultivate your own internet experience to reflect that. Create your own pockets with rules about how this is the space for praise and if you're not up for praising RWBY right now, don't interact with us in this particular space. Don't try to make the entire community — the main tools used to discuss the show online — conform to your preferences. As established, there is no "good" criticism that everyone in the fandom will accept, which just leaves a fandom with no criticism at all. I'm glad to see I'm far from the only one who, when presented with that extreme, is going, "Nope. No thank you."

#rwby #mymetas #suicide tw #rwde

[ao3theskyisblue]

We are lost (and we’re falling)

Summary:

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

A sound of a bag dropping to the floor. Keys being returned to their rightful spot. Slow footsteps moving closer, but TK didn’t take his eyes off the offending piece of paper, glaring holes through the thin material holding insurmountable value.

“TK-”

“When.”

Written for Day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek : Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?” 

Read on AO3 

“When were you going to tell me?”

TK didn’t get up from his spot on the couch, stock still since he found a certain piece of paper reciting words he wasn’t sure he had read correctly for the 10th time that night. So, he sat, staring blankly at the muddled words on paper, waiting for his husband to come home to get the answers to his innumerable questions.

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

A sound of a bag dropping to the floor. Keys being returned to their rightful spot. Slow footsteps moving closer, but TK didn’t take his eyes off the offending piece of paper, glaring holes through the thin material holding insurmountable value.

“TK-”

“When.”

TK looked up sharply, and felt his chest tighten at the way Carlos stepped back slightly. But they were going to have this conversation, because he had gone through the various stages of shock, disbelief, fear, anger, and now…nothing.

He wanted to understand.

“A few days before our one-year anniversary.” Carlos said quietly, and TK clenched his jaw, lifting a hand to run through his hair roughly.

“Our one-year anniversary when we were dating, or when we got married?” TK knew the answer to that when he saw Carlos tense, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Were you just never planning on telling me? Until what, I find out myself eventually? When it would already be too late?” TK bit down on his lower lip, hard, tasting the bitter tang of blood as his teeth broke skin. It wasn’t nearly enough to distract him from all this. He could see from the corner of his eyes as Carlos slowly took a seat on the ottoman in front of him, but still keeping a semblance of distance.

“I promise, I was going to tell you,” Carlos’ voice was still quiet, as if he knew the moment one of them raised their voices, it would only further escalate the conversation. “I just never found the right time.”

The right time.

TK couldn’t help a scoff at that, standing up sharply from his spot on the couch to pace the wooden floors of their living room, his steps arrhythmic.

“Tyler-”

TK let out an ugly sound, shooting Carlos a glare that could cut through glass.

“Don’t you dare. I am not in the mood to hear my name right now, especially when you decided to put it in a place where I absolutely object to.” He tore his gaze away from the coffee table, hands clenched tightly by his sides.

“How do we fix this?”

“Oh, so now it’s we?”

“TK-”

“No. I can’t–I can’t do this right now.” TK abruptly stopped his pacing only to violently slam his palms down on the kitchen counter, the skin of his palms stinging with a certain pain he couldn’t feel over the bleeding wounds of his heart. He could feel the tears burning like acid in his eyes, knowing that they could spill at any fueling word.

“Sweetheart,”

Clenching his fingers inwards towards his palms, he felt his nails digging against the soft skin, no doubt leaving deep crescent indentations in their wake.

“TK, look at me.”

The sound that ripped out of his throat was immediately covered with his hand, and TK furiously blinked back the onslaught of tears. He felt a gentle hand on his bicep, and forced himself to take in a few shuddering breaths before turning around, facing his husband. Carlos’ own eyes were red-rimmed, but he still had a small, albeit sad smile on his lips.

“Talk to me.” Carlos’ grip on his arm tightened, and TK swallowed back the sob that wanted to break free, instead taking in another deep breath and closing his eyes.  

He could feel the anguish filling up the room in suffocating waves, but he had already found it hard to breathe the second he had accidentally found the will. His name was printed neatly underneath a paragraph of writing, taunting him.

TK stares at the space between them, knowing that there was a hand on his arm, but not quite feeling it.

He couldn’t really name anything he was feeling right now.

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

The words came out quiet, subdued, and TK wasn’t sure if Carlos even heard him. But then there was a warm hand trailing up his arm, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re my partner. My better half, the love of my life,” Carlos stresses, as if that would somehow alleviate the pain currently tearing him to shreds. “There is no one else I trust with this more than you.”

A hot wave of fury washed over him. TK stepped back from the gentle hold to level a glare at the man standing before him, who looked stricken. TK hardly ever pulled away from Carlos’ touches, feeling a pit growing in his stomach at the hurt in his husband’s gaze.

“You-you have no idea-”

“I trust you-”

“I don’t trust myself, Carlos!”

TK felt the man in front of him reel back at that, but still refused to lift his gaze. He knew what he would see – concern, confusion, but what he couldn’t bear to see was the ever-present softness that never disappeared no matter how bad their arguments got.

Swallowing thickly, TK twisted the gold wedding band around his finger. Ever since the day they promised each other forever, the ring had become one of his grounding sources. Not stopping his administrations, TK tried for a smile which only turned into a grimace.  

“You are asking me to be the bridge between your life and death,” He started, clenching his jaw at the last part. “A single word, a signature, and I have the power to take your life. Don’t you dare make it seem like this is an easy decision for me, you don’t get to do that.” TK waved a hand towards the papers scattered on the coffee table, hearing Carlos suck in a sharp breath.

The ticking of the kitchen clock sounded louder than he remembered, and he tried to focus on the rhythmic ticking to try and calm his racing heartbeat.

It wasn’t working.

Carlos didn’t move closer, but his next words hit him like a bucket of ice water.

“You think I don’t know you put my name down for yours?”

The words weren’t accusing, nor were they harsh. Instead, they were stated as a fact, something TK couldn’t deny.  

That didn’t mean it was the same thing.

“That’s different.” He says icily, but Carlos didn’t so much as flinch. His gaze never wavered.

“How so? From where I’m standing, you and I seem to be thinking the same thing.” One thing he’s found to be a little frustrating and also endearing was how logical Carlos was with his arguments. TK didn’t know whether it was something that came from working in law enforcement, but he found it hard to argue with reason.

They didn’t fight often, but when they did, it was a brief fuel to the fire, something that both of them knew that would be worked out in the end and that at the end of the day, they were just two men who fiercely loved each other.

“Because you-” TK trailed off, the sudden heaviness of his thoughts weighing him down like lead. Carlos frowned.

“Because I’m…?”  

There were a few beats where they just stared at each other. TK could see that Carlos was itching to reach out towards him, but he knew that he had to be the first one to close the distance between them.

He wasn’t ready.

“When people leave, they take pieces.”  

His dad took the first piece. It had been a small piece, but a piece, nonetheless. Something he couldn’t grasp – just watching from a distance as it slipped through his fingers.

His mom took the next piece, and a 7-year-old’s memories were surprisingly vivid. He still remembered the colour of the moving truck parked outside their house, the sound of the spluttering engine as it came to life, the look on his neighbours’ faces as they not-so-subtly watched through the window as his parents argued.

The pieces kept chipping away as the years went by. His stepmom. Enzo. Every new friend he made and grew to never speak to again, his first overdose, the dinner with Alex.  

All those pieces left scars that he learned to bear better with time, but they never fully healed. He would never completely get those pieces back, but building himself to always strive for a better life created new ones he could nurture and protect.

And the person who carried the biggest piece of all, was the man standing right in front of him.

TK closed his eyes, knowing that Carlos could see the tremble of his lips as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “You have all of me. If I have to watch you-if I’m the reason you leave this world-” A single tear slipped down his cheeks, and he quickly lifted a hand to wipe it away roughly. “I won’t be able to let you go Carlos, don’t ask me to.”

Carlos remained silent. TK didn’t know how long they had been standing in the little area between the living room and the kitchen, but from the way one of his knees had locked, the dull ache pulsating through his leg in waves, it must have been a while.

He still couldn’t bring himself to sit down.

“You think it’s easy for me to think about letting you go?”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and TK warily lifted his gaze from the floor to Carlos’ eyes, which were filled with ripples of love and pain. He took a small step forward, but nothing more than that.

“Because let me tell you, it would be the single hardest decision in my entire life.” He says shakily, and TK feels his heart shatter at the tears that broke free. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that he would see Carlos cry, but it never changed the fact that every time he did, something in him died a little with every tear that slipped down his cheeks.

He hadn’t realized his hands were trembling until he lifted them to gently cup Carlos’ face, thumbs slowly moving to delicately wipe the tears away. Two warm hands covered his own, and TK leaned up to press his lips gently to Carlos’ forehead. The hands covering his tightened when he leaned back.  

“I thought the single hardest decision were those adoption papers we filed a few months ago.” TK says lightly, feeling the first genuine smile grace his lips since the start of all this when Carlos let out a wet chuckle.

No matter how many years have passed, TK feels himself melting all over again at the signature warmth in Carlos’ gaze that was surely mirrored in his own as they looked at each other.

“They’re on different meters.” Carlos responds, and TK’s eyes crinkle at the sides. His hands move to his hips, pulling him in closer.

“We can’t see the future,” Carlos says softly, and TK’s smile dims. “There will be many more uncertainties down the road, obstacles we’ll face. But I’m sure, with every fiber of my being, that I want to face them with you– to be the one to hold your hand until the end.”

TK forcefully swallows past the bitter tang in his throat.

The words wash over him in a dizzying warmth. Death was inescapable, and a constant presence in both their lines of work. It was one of the reasons they treasured every minute they got with each other, never knowing when their clocks would abruptly stop. And although the mere thought of the possibility of Carlos leaving his world tore him raw and hung him dry, he knew that if it truly came to that, he would want the exact same thing.

For better or for worse.

Lifting a hand to run through Carlos’ curls fondly, his other hand drifted to his pulse point, feeling the rhythmic pulsing against his fingers.

“I love you.” TK says instead, pulling Carlos into a tight hug that was returned with equal fervor without hesitation.

“I know. And I love you.” Carlos murmured, tightening his arms around him. TK closed his eyes, pressing his face into the slightly rough material of his husband’s uniform, absently remembering that he hadn’t gotten a chance to change when he got home.

Pressing a kiss to Carlos’ shoulder, TK looked up to see brown eyes already looking at him affectionately. He slowly trails a hand down his husband’s arm, smiling at the trail of goosebumps left behind in their wake.

“I’m never letting go of your hand,” TK whispers, his hand having travelled down to intertwine with Carlos’, lifting it up to press a lingering kiss to the back of it. He stares at the ridges and scars with teary eyes, every indentation – every mark ingrained into his mind.

“I’m going to hold onto you for a long, long time.”  

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #911lsangstweek

[vanillann]

busted lip kisses (steve rogers x reader)

a/n: i love steve rogers with my whole heart, it’s so sad!! also this is kinda a college au! because i’ve been obsessed with them lately

word count: 1.5k

warning: mention of fighting, blood, swearing, implied smut (nothing graphic), and TALK OF A GUY BEING A REAL CREEP

marvel masterlist entire masterlist

I knew Steve Rogers never backed down from a fight, it was a simple known fact, but when I swung open my door accepting Wanda and found a bloody Steve I was definitely in a state of shock.

Rightfully so.

“What the hell!” I reached for his arm on the door frame, wrapping it lightly around my shoulder. Steve tried to get my name from his lips but instead came a small drop of blood.

“Holy shit!”

“L-languag-e,” his words were spaced out, the single word sounded like a whole paragraph falling from his lips, yet he still had the tiniest smirk on his lips.

I didn’t say anything about his comment, normally I would be making fun of his outburst as he would say “a sailor couldn’t curse as much as you” but I brushed it off and moved him deeper into the apartment.

Wanda and Shuri were supposed to be here by now, but after bar surfing, you knew better than you assume they would be home before three in the morning.

Steve stumbled deeper into the apartment, making it to one of the stools at the kitchen island. His head rested on the cold surface and I could tell by the way he hid his face from the light he had a headache.

I flipped the overhead light off, using the smile night light Wanda bought and the little lap on the counter for light.

“Did you fight a biker gang?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, running past him and my homework that definitely wouldn’t get done now, into the little bathroom. I heard him yell my name and him begging me to come back but my fingers were reading over the different bottles.

Once I found the last set of badges I closed the cabinet, shocked to find Steve leaning against the door frame with a little pout on his busted lip.

“I don’t need t-that,” he stuttered out, his body suddenly going limp in the doorway, sending him to the floor of the doorway.

“Shit Steve,” I moved to sit on the floor beside him, studying his face as she shook himself from the little trace.

“I drank too much.”

I rolled my eyes, readying to get him comfortable so I could get my phone and call either Bucky or Sam, praying they weren’t the ones who got him in this mess and then left him on the doorstep. While it didn’t sound like them I couldn’t help but question.

“How much did you drink?”

“Actually not a lot, just feels like it. After he smashed my head into the table I started feeling like this,” she spoke absentmindedly as if his words weren’t making me worry more.

My hands shaky grabbed the alcohol wipes, opening a pack and pulling out the whip.

“This might burn,” I didn’t get him time before I wiped the cut on his lip, which earned an overdramatized win and I knew he was either drunker than he says or he did hit his head hard, Steve Roger wasn’t a whiner.

“I’m sorry, you have a test tomorrow,” he was suddenly coming back, placing his hand on the floor as if he was going to leave but I placed my hand over his, stopping him immediately.

“You aren’t leaving.”

He didn’t question me, slowly sitting back to the floor of the bathroom as he watched me clean up the blood in his eyebrow and trying to avoid the black eye.

Shuri was the doctor in training, not me.

“Just tell me what happened?”

Steve stopped looking at me for the first time since he sat down, his eyes trained on the hinges of the bathroom door.

“Steve, please.”

I hated the way my voice was begging, but this was Steve we were talking about. Like I said earlier, Steve didn’t back down from a fight, but he never fought because he got bored.

There was always a reason, a real reason.

“You didn’t hear them,” he spoke under his breath, his voice far away like he wasn’t on the same campus as me.

“Who?”

I gently moved to sit shoulder to shoulder with him, placing his hand in my lap while I cleaned up his bloody knuckles. The bruises were already forming and I wonder how long ago he was beating someone up before he walked into my house and gave me puppy dog eyes.

“Rumlow,” I rolled my eyes at hearing his name. The jerk was a grade A ass who just happened to be captain of the football team.

What a cliche.

“What did Rumlow do this time? Did he say something about Bucky again?” I could only guess what stupid name he had given Bucky or Same this time, as he normally stuck to Bird Brains and Robobitch.

“It wasn’t them, he was talking about you.”

I dropped his hand in my lap, turning to study the side of his face with a frown. He still didn’t look at me but I saw the look in his eyes. He was reliving as we spoke.

“Why?”

“He was talking about having a class with Wanda-” he stopped, taking in a sharp breath and I watched him bawl a bit with my sweatpants in his hand, “talking about how he was going to partner with her to get closer to you.”

I knew that wasn’t it, Rumlow would have to get nastier than that for Steve to snap like this.

“What else Rogers?”

“Said he was going to sneak into your room and take your undergarments.”

I felt the vile build up in my throat, I suddenly felt small and the thought of him being on the same campus as me.

“So you punched him?”

“Not exactly, I smashed a glass over his head.”

I gasped, turning to look at the side of his face better. I was in shock for sure, he wasn’t one to do things like this. No matter what it was always a view, punches, and once he choked a dude for like a single second, but smashing glasses over someone's head?

“What the hell Steve?”

“I told you (Y/N), you didn’t hear ‘em,” I knew better than to ask who else saw, his eyes were already filled with rage just telling me around Rumlow.

The only thing he hated more than bullies were bystanders.

“I understand that Steve, but smashing a glass over his head!”

“Did you not hear what I just told you?” Steve finally looked at me and it took everything in me not to back away. He looked like he could slap someone in half at this point.

“I get that Steve, it’s fucking gross but I’m not some girl that you need to defend my honor! I’m your friend-” his hand slammed into the tile of the bathroom, his eye looking deep into my own.

“Don’t you see, I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck!”

Suddenly I was more scared of his words than him because I could have sworn he just said he wanted to kiss my neck.

“You must be concussed,” my words were barely above a whisper as I spoke.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

His harsh jaw was softer now, his lips frowning as he looked at me. That was the scary part, how he looked at me. You don’t expect someone to look at you like a siren until they are.

You don’t expect someone like Steve Rogers swinging at a stupid boy because he apparently wants to kiss your neck.

“I think-”

“Unless you're going to tell me to fuck off or fuck you I don’t wanna hear it.”

I slowly brought my finger up to my lips, trying to think over my words before I spoke. I couldn’t believe how forward he was and I don’t think he sounded either by the way his face fell.

“Shit, sorry (Y/N)-”

“Language.”

He looked back at me, his eye wide as I slowly had a little smirk growing on my lips. I felt myself shift around on the floor, smiling wickedly when he started to stutter over his words.

“You wanna kiss my neck?” I asked, my hand slowly moving up his arm.

“I mean, yeah, but without the busted lip and-”

“You wanna wait till your lip heals?” I titled my head, liking the way he watched my hand and my words were making him fall around like a fish outta water.

“What? No, I uhm-”

My finger finally reached the back of his neck, my body slowly moving closer to his own. Once my forehead was touching his he leaned in, his lips so light against mine it felt he was there. When I went to push slightly hard, still worried for his lip, I felt his hand grab my wrist.

I slightly pulled back, smiling at him with my eyes closed. I just kissed my best friend and liked it, a lot.

“I can’t wait for my lip to heal now.”

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