#i hope all the ace folks out there are having/had a good day

[what-is-this-tomfoolery]

I’m a little late but happy ace awareness week!

<33333

#ace #asexual #ace awareness #ace awareness week #i hope all the ace folks out there are having/had a good day #y’all deserve it #even on days that aren’t ace awareness week #and if your not that’s ok! #this has gotten away from me #anyway happy ace awareness week

[rustedhearts]

crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.

a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"

The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.

Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.

But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'

Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.

You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.

"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."

A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.

"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"

"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"

"What is the state of your love life?"

"Dead!"

You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.

"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"

Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?

"And onion rings," you added.

Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."

✶ ✶

"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."

Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"

Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.

"Okay, I'm going in."

You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.

The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.

Until—

"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.

"I'm quite surprising."

He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."

You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."

Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.

The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"

Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."

Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.

"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."

He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."

Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"

You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."

Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.

"Maybe so."

You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.

"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.

Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.

"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"

Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.

"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.

He had you.

You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."

Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."

Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.

"See you tomorrow!" he called.

You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.

And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.

✶ ✶

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."

"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."

"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"

You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.

Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?

“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”

Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.

“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.

But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.

He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.

“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.

“Come on in, get comfy.”

You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.

“Thirsty?”

Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.

Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”

He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”

You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”

You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.

“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“

“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”

The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.

Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.

"W-what?"

Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."

Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.

The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.

You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.

“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”

“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.

Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.

"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.

"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.

Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.

"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."

Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.

"Th-thought you didn't know anything."

Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.

"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."

"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.

Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"

You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.

"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."

Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"

You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.

But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."

As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.

He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"

You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.

"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."

In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.

When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.

The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.

Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.

"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.

You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."

He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.

"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."

When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

"Steve, please."

Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.

"Shh, shh, 've got you."

Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.

Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?

“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.

“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.

But he was just that good.

The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.

When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.

But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.

When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.

You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.

“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”

Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.

“Harrington, what the fuck?”

#rolly! #steve harrington #college!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve the hair harrington #joe keery #steve harrington x female reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington au #stranger things

[kedreeva]

as someone who is ace and entering college years, how has your dating life been as an ace? what other struggles have there been that you have advice for? i dont know any aces or similar around me older or otherwise. thank you for your time and i hope you have an easy day!

Okay this will get a little long so I'll put it behind a cut

Honestly I'm probably not the best person to ask, since I never really...struggled? Not specifically with asexuality or with anything related to it. I can tell you my experiences, though, and you can decide if there's anything worthwhile to take away from it!

I grew up in a house run by science and math. I knew the prefix a- meant without/not and I knew there was heterosexual and bisexual and homosexual, so when young and, importantly, before really ever interacting with other queer folk, I went Ah ha, these are (prefix)(sexual) and so therefore I am asexual (without sexuality), and that was that. That was literally all the thought I gave to it. People had crushes on other people, I didn't have crushes on people, end of story. If, for some reason, I developed a crush on someone, I would deal with it then.

Maybeeeee midway through HS, a very good friend of mine asked me about it, and I said well, some people like everyone the same, and I dislike everyone the same. And she said well, then it sounds like you like everyone the same, that amount is just zero, so that seems like bisexual? (she didn't know the term asexual was an actual sexuality term either at that point, just the biological term for reproduction and, well, I could reproduce theoretically so couldn't be that) And I said well, alright then, and called myself bisexual for the next 6 or 7 years. THEN I found out asexuality is a sexuality not just a mode of reproduction and I said Ah Ha, I was Correct, and that was that again.

So I guess if I was offering advice it would be... you know you. Don't let someone else tell you about you if you think they're wrong. Make up a word if there isn't one. Use a new word if you find one that already exists and fits.

Also, that it's fine to not worry about it. Literally it's fine to just never think about it if you have better things to do. I think a lot of people get really wrapped up in finding the right label and/or "what happens if-" when like... you're not a canned good. You don't need a label. Worry about what-ifs when they come up, don't borrow anxiety if you can help it.

I dated a few people in HS, like... three people I think, and one Almost. One predatory mistake I thankfully recognized (HEY because I had older folks online I could talk to about it!) and got out of quickly, and one hot mess relationship that was a LOT of fun- my boyfriend, Sark, and then his ex-girlfriend, and then I stepped out so they could get back together, and then they said wait no, and invited me back in, and that went on for most of the end of HS, and nearly into college, when I stepped out again (and peacefully, I am still friends with both of them and I married Sark in the end). There was one guy whom I was always, perpetually, extremely fond of, and we hung out a lot, kissed once, and I think we would have had a lot of fun dating, but ultimately it was a near miss that became a fond memory, because we were never in the right place together. Sometimes life does that, and that's okay, too.

In college, I simply didn't date anyone. I had better things to do. I met my best friend, @idkfandomwhatever, online that year (and still talk to her almost daily, sometimes for hours, despite that we are on opposite sides of the world!!), and in person @mishapeep who was the best roomie I ever had (hi!!!!! i love you!!!). I had great friends, I went on a TON of adventures, worked a cool job where I had awesome coworkers, and just all around had a blast learning stuff and napping in sunbeams or on couches at the food court. A couple of guys made passes, and I turned them down because I just wasn't into it, and we remained friends. There was one coworker at my dispatch job that I got along with like a house on fire, and everyone ELSE thought we should be dating, but neither of us ever brought it up- I can't say why he didn't for sure, but I know I never brought it up because I was 85% sure he didn't swing for the right team to date me, which I ALSO never brought up until he found me on facebook years later to tell me about his husband running for local election somewhere. so. again, don't let anyone else tell you what to do lol there was ALSO another guy that I had NO interest in that spent a lot of time around me, but we mostly sat in my bunk watching Queer as Folk, which I KNOW was his first exposure to queer material. I never talked about queer stuff with him otherwise, but I heard from a mutual friend of ours that he's also happily married to his husband. Sometimes just being yourself, openly and without shame about it, does more than you think, even if it's not doing anything directly for you (but it is, it's good for you too).

SINCE college ended, I dated one guy I met through an online game and that was great in person briefly, but ultimately didn't work out because he couldn't be a nice person, another guy I met through the same online game and that didn't work out at ALL in person, and then I started hanging out with Sark and co again. I was on the phone with him driving somewhere, and I said something to the effect of someday you're gonna find a gf and she's not gonna want you to keep going on adventures with your ex, and we won't be able to talk anymore and I had a real recordscratch moment where I realized absolutely NOT on MY watch, I wanted that boy in my life forever actually, and we've been married now for... this is year 8.

I may have landed in a soft place, but I didn't seek it out. I just lived my life and didn't worry about my sexuality or about who I was or wasn't gonna date. When I DID date, I was up front about what I wanted from any of those relationships and part of the problem with the relationships that didn't work out was sometimes that I did not KNOW what I wanted, yet. But, it was IMPORTANT I think, that I gave the chances I did, because I did learn about myself and what I wanted. That's probably the hardest fucking thing to learn, that relationships sometimes happen not because they're likely to be permanent, but because it may be fun or be a way to learn what you do or don't want. Maybe alongside of that, the lesson that it's okay to go "hm, actually this is Not For Me" and exit peacefully whenever possible. But it's okay to give temporary things a shot and see how it goes, even knowing up front it may be temporary (honestly maybe that even takes some of the stress of it off? if you don't have to worry about it being forever, and you don't have to worry about "what if I never experience other things," and you don't worry so much about messing it up so it feels easier to take chances saying and doing stuff you might otherwise consider too risky to ask for etc).

I'm aware I'm lucky that things went pretty smoothly for my entire life so far, insofar as dating or sexuality is concerned. Part of that was definitely because even the worst of the people I dated weren't really all that bad of people. A lot of it was that I just didn't date if I didn't want to. I didn't care about sex, so I didn't have sex for the first time until a few years after college, and only one guy ever pushed the issue at all (the guy in HS I immediately dropped all contact with).

The thing is... I dated or nearly dated like ten people, flirted with countless others (because it's FUN), and the only one I still have regular contact with (not just occasional friendly hellos) is the one I kept at the end.

But the friends I made in college? I kept a lot of those. I still talk to several of my college friends on a regular basis. I have made other friends since, some of whom I talk to every day, some of whom have become irregular contacts I am still fond of. But those bonds are important and the ones you make with your friends from here out do have the potential to span at least huge chunks of your life, if not the entirety of it. If you only take away one thing from this little novel...take that knowledge.

also this has nothing to do with asexuality but for pete's sake find SOME kind of hobby club to be a part of, or make one if there isn't one, follow your stupidest instincts for adventure on occasion (like playing freeze tag frisbee in a lightning storm on the PAC lawn at 11pm until the campus cops show up to make you go home), and take at least one "fuck it this sounds fun" class. Mine was archery at 7am, the only early-morning class I ever took. Worth it, we were all TERRIBLE but god it was awesome.

Good luck out there!

#you are always welcome to come talk if you need to #asks or chats or whatever #I will not always have answers or advice but I can listen #asexuality #asks #stories about ked's life #I'm leaving this rebloggable because I KNOW there are older aces following me #and y'all have got stories to tell too if you want to speak up

[feathernotes]

Hello! My name is Krispy, and I’m the co-creator of the webcomic Ghost Junk Sickness (along with @spacerocketbunny​) It's story time!

GJS is a webcomic published by Hiveworks and features two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly bounty dubbed the Ghost The current iteration of GJS is about 9 years old (and wrapping up next year!) It’s been an incredible journey full of ups and downs. We’ve learned SO MUCH creating this comic, and I wanted to share some of it’s origins with you all in hopes of inspiring more folks to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy- and make that comic!

The origin of Ghost Junk Sickness came from our love for Magic Knight Rayearth and Final Fantasy 7. Vahn, the protagonist of GJS, was basically a mash up of Hikaru and Cloud from those two series. The very first version of this story has unfortunately been destroyed, and this map is the only piece I have left of that world. Character art still exists though, and it was pretty funny to see how obvious we were with our inspirations at the time.

The original attempt at the story was called Crew, and my sister Space and I worked on it in 2002-2004. We sort of got lost in our own ideas after that, and weren’t as focus on making the comic (now lost). A few years later, I decided to try my hand at it and it looked like this:

This was all done on low quality paper, whichever I could find at the time and some pencil crayons. This attempt was over 600 pages long and had a pretty random story plot, much like the first version. I could not tell you what it was about haha 😅

My second attempt (then called Divine Ace) I wanted to look more 'traditional manga' and kept with just inks and tried my darndest to tone on the computer (it never worked out). This one lasted over 400 pages, and was more allinged with my liking to edgy action anime and games at the time. It was also Trigger's first appearance!

After experimenting and eventually wanting to change- I started to work with Space again, and we collaborated in full on our first fancomic for TF2 called "Be Efficient, Be Polite." It was a good lesson on how we could coordinate our shared skill sets and plan out who did what as far as the whole process of comics go.

All of these comics (save for the very first lost version) were hosted on DA the day we got our hands on a scanner. It was our first taste on being 'webcomic creators' back in the day, and it was very fun! We didn't much care for readers, only the process of completion at the time, so a page done was always a victory worthy to be celebrated (and back then, we had more time to make pages!)

And so, as the years went by and we decided to move on from our fandom roots, Space and I went back to the Crew/Divine Ace project and redesigned and overhauled the entirety of it. (You can see the full evolution here) We wanted to re-asses what the story, comic, and characters meant to us, and how we could convey some pretty important ideas and concepts to our potential readers. From that, Ghost Junk Sickness was born, and began pre-production in 2013.

Years after, we find ourselves reflecting on how much we've learned from the process of going ahead and diving in head first. There were certainly many iterations and years it took to get where we are today, but realising that it all began that day Space and I decided to scribble some pretty mediocire comics in our homework books and papers. Because that is the beauty of comics- The many skill sets, the hats, and challenges that come along with creating them. And how much we've become better at so many things along the way. So if you read this and feel nervous about diving head first into your first comic, I'm here to re-assure you that things will feel tough, but exciting. Things will feel really hard but amazing when you're getting your story out in front of you with such an incredible medium. Webcomics will always be my favourite because of how accessible it is to any skill set. And know in your heart of hearts that there ARE people out that that LOVE to see growth, they love to see the progression of your journey. So get out there and start creating that comic that's occupied your brain for so long, and start breathing that life into your OCs and your world. The only way is up with webcomics, and the only way to start is just by creating now.

#webcomics #webcomic #ghost junk sickness #hiveworks #feathernotes #me talking

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 22

Find the series masterlist

Here we are folks! Three more chapters after this. I will be posting one chapter a week until this is done.

Hopefully that's enough incentive to keep y'all from mobbing me. Hee hee.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, stressful situations, threats of violence, deceitful practices and language, swearing, injury.

Word count: 1.3k

John parked in front of the building, which looked as nondescript as ever. But it felt like it had been much longer since you’d last been here, longer than the hours that had actually passed.

Less than a day. Less than one full day you’d been gone, and your world had tipped sharply. 

Thinking about it made you nauseous, so you shunted the thought aside. Kate. You were here for Kate. Everything else would wait. 

“Stay behind us,” John insisted, handing you the gun again. He held your gaze, waiting until you nodded to release the gun to you. 

You followed the two of them up the stairs, for once itching not to run away from something, but towards it. You needed to make sure Kate was okay, get her away from Gray and home safely to her wife.

Anything else, you could handle. But not losing Kate. 

John slowed as the three of you approached the top floor. He shot you one single look, a very clear reminder to stay behind him. 

You didn't need reminding. You had no intention of acquiring more bullet holes any time soon. 

John and Roach went first, pushing open the door to the top floor and sweeping the space. You moved a little more slowly after them, swallowing hard. 

Find Kate and leave. That's all you cared about. 

The door to the conference room shattered with a gunshot from inside. John and Roach both moved, and you ended up being pushed into the wall by Roach. The second shot hit the wall harmlessly. 

The fire alarm went off, likely pulled by someone on a lower floor. You grimaced at the loud siren, the extra noise doing nothing to help the situation. But Roach just motioned you to stay put. 

What remained of the door opened with a crash. The mercenary had barely stepped out of the room before John shot him, the body falling in front of the door. 

“I see you are still alive,” Gray called through the open door. “A pity my men did not do their job.” 

“And they still won't.” John kept his fury leashed, voice cold. “Give up now and I might let you live.” 

Gray laughed, sending goosebumps up your spine. “Such bravado! I am not surprised. But you see, you are outnumbered. I have something you want, whereas you… have nothing.” 

Roach pushed you back harder into the wall, which was good because you had just opened your mouth to protest. Instead you made a tiny wheezing noise as half the air in your lungs was forced out by the soldier in front of you. 

Fucking rude. 

“That so?” John remained calm, staying out of sight of the open door. 

“Price,” Kate said from inside the room. 

You clenched your hands as tight as you could around the gun. Fuck. She sounded okay, but… 

“Laswell.” John, somehow, was still not audibly responding. 

“You see? Something you want.” Gray sounded far too smug. 

John was silent for a few long moments, shifting his position just enough to be able to look at you and Roach. He lifted one finger to his lips, holding your gaze, and waited until you nodded to look away. 

“I do have something you want,” John pointed out, calm but cold. He had a plan, clearly. 

At least, you hoped he had a plan. If he didn't, he was faking it very well. 

“You?” Gray laughed. “What could you have that I want?” Derision dripped from every word, his amusement clearly mocking. 

John didn't seem to care. “Ace. And a way out of this building alive.” 

“You think I won't kill you too?” Gray hissed, the still-screeching fire alarm only making him sound more unhinged. 

“You're welcome to try,” John ground out, voice lowering to an absolutely threatening growl. 

Silence from the meeting room for several long moments. If you had to guess, Gray was debating his options. Debating the best way forward to get what he wanted. 

You fidgeted behind Roach, swallowing back nerves as best you could. It was not in your nature to stand by and listen to people haggling over your life. 

Roach reached back and tapped you twice on the side. You weren't sure if that was supposed to be reassurance or a reminder to stay quiet. Either way, you drew in a deep breath. 

“What is it you're proposing?” Gray asked finally. 

John was quiet for a moment, and you could see his gaze flick to you. “An exchange,” he finally offered. 

If you trusted him any less, you would have been outraged. As it was, Roach's tap to your side was unnecessary. You weren't going to jeopardize John. 

“Intriguing,” Gray said, curious. “I do appreciate a man who can weigh the worth of two lives and choose one.” 

Your jaw clenched tight at that, a memory slamming into you, of Gray standing before you father. Something about the weight of lives… But it was gone again, shoved back deep where you'd buried it. You needed to focus. Not fall apart. 

“Then come out,” John goaded. “Get this over with before more people get involved.” 

As if to emphasize his words, the fire alarm screeched once more and went quiet. The sudden silence was almost worse than the constant noise. Almost. 

The silence stretched. Five seconds. Ten. Too long, much too long. Gray was planning something, he always was, John had to know–

Gunshots broke the silence, and Roach pushed you harder back into cover, obstructing your view as he did. But you could hear the gunfire continue, then a masculine shout. Two more shots, a little different sounding than the earlier ones. The sounds of a struggle - grunts and thuds. 

Then three more shots, so close together you almost couldn't hear the difference. 

“Do not shoot,” Kate barked.

You perked up, straining to try to see around Roach. He didn't move, keeping you covered for now. 

There was a brief choking noise, spluttering, another thud. The steady beat of boots against the floor. 

“Need help?” John asked, further away now. Glass crunched under boots. 

“Move,” you hissed at Roach. “Let me see–” You pushed past him with a little bit of a struggle, half-running past the bodies on the floor without a second glance at them. 

There were exactly two people you cared to see right now. The bodies weren't either of them. 

You skidded to a halt outside the shattered glass door, peering into the room. Two more bodies on the floor, blood slowly seeping into the thin carpet. John, standing over Kate and Gray, where Kate had Gray pinned face-down in what looked like a truly agonizing hold. 

Blood smeared from Kate's temple into her mussed hair and down her cheek. 

The floor next to Gray's head caved in under the bullet, bits of carpeting flying away from the impact. Gray shouted something indistinguishable, thrashing a little under Kate. 

“Ace,” John soothed, turning to face you. “We've got him. Give me the gun.” 

You didn't give him the gun, gaze trained on Gray. On the man who'd haunted your nightmares for years. 

“Ace,” John repeated. “Give me the gun.” One hand stretched out slowly towards you, careful not to spook you. 

He needn't have worried. You would never shoot him. 

Kate said your birth name softly, and your gaze snapped to her instead. She watched you, holding Gray down with little effort. The pain he was in likely helped with that. “I've got him,” she told you, steady and calm. “Steady.”

You blinked once, looking back down to Gray. He was no longer moving, breathing hard against the carpet. You hadn't seen him last time, when Kate had captured him that first time. You didn't know if this was quite the same. 

But you did know that this time, you weren't a scared little girl. 

“I'm sorry, Kate,” you said sincerely. “But you had him last time, too.” 

You pulled the trigger.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

[callofdudes]

Not the one that requested, but I think for the ace reader request’s wording, they meant the reader views the guys romantically but doesn’t confess as they are ace(not aroace) in fear of future rejection

Ooooh, oh that makes sense. Oops.... Well I might just write it all over again 🫣😬 that's my bad folks. That's my bad. So I'll just rewrite the prompt here and figure it out?? Same thing with the right prompt this time. I think I've got it this time.

It's literally almost the same writing of course I changed things, I just wasn't feeling trying to get creative all over again I'm sorry-

Telling them you love them... (Again)

Summary: Ace!Reader struggling to confess to the boys out of fear of not being sexually attracted to them.

Ghost 💀

You knew Ghost wasn't keen on love. He wasn't really keen on anything. So attempting to tell him you loved and appreciated him without being given a glare and a smack in the face was hard.

You usually kept to buying him gifts on the occasion, aiming to finish the paperwork he gave you early. But it all never felt like real appreciation.

You didn't want Ghost thinking that you were into him sexually. Yes you could admit he was attractive but it wasn't like that. That's where the struggles of your confessions lay... You were into him, so romantically swooned over him. And yet you wouldn't see him sexually if you were paid a million bucks. Because that just wasn't it.

It was easier just to write him a note, put down all your complicated emotions on paper and hope he would understand. And you dropped it in his office, worried he would freak out and yell at you for everything you said.

You were looking at documents on your computer when Ghost came into your office, completely unannounced.

"Sergeant."

"Oh- lieutenant!"

He holds up the note, placing it gently on your desk. You look down, immediately feeling ashamed of what you wrote. You wanted to cower away, not knowing how he would react. Would he be mad?? He obviously thought you liked him by the way he came in.

"I'm not mad, I'd just like to talk."

You flick your eyes back up, still feeling ashamed of the things you'd written.

"But I don't... Well, y'know."

"It's not like that..." You mutter, suddenly afraid to look up at him. Ghost's stance softens, voice getting a bit calmer.

"I hope it's not." He steps forward.

You frown, looking up at him. "I love you... Just romantically. I just didn't know how to tell you..."

He nods a little, piecing everything together again.

"And don't think its because of you, no no, I just-" Ghost stepped forward, his eyes locking with yours and he nodded. " I think I understand."

You smile, feeling relief fill you. "You gonna say it back??"

He huffs. "Maybe one day."

"I'll take that." You smiled and squeezed his hand.

The man hummed and nodded, squeezing your hand back. "Thank you I guess... You're not too bad yourself."

You chuckle and stand, eagerly embracing him. "I love you, Simon."

He tensed, but patted your back gently. "I know." He smiled softly. Embracing you firmer than before, resting the fabric of his mask against your forehead where you could feel the warm breaths against your skin. You knew this would work out. You weren't scared anymore.

Gaz 🧢

Gaz was quiet and reserved. Not like Ghost, but he was a private person. He preferred most of his time alone and you often wondered how Soap managed to drag him into such a tight knit friendship.

But you'd also grown close to Gaz. He wasn't as good with expressing his feelings in words he thought fit, so he just tried not to.

But you knew him for him. The music he liked, the movies and the bands. You two would spend hours just laughing and talking together in the quietness of the base, the best of friends.

You have wanted to express to Gaz how much you love him for a while now. Because you truly had fallen in love with him. But considering both of you couldn't get a grasp for proper words, you were afraid he would misunderstand.

Especially since you only saw him romantically. Funny little thing, but all you wanted was that soft, gentle affection and to finally be able to wrap your arms around him without fear. And yet you could never say it.

You were waiting by the cargo station, knee bouncing as you waited for the plane to open. Their mission had been met with problems and there was a slim chance they'd all come back alive.

When you saw Gaz you immediately ran to him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him tightly. "Oh thank goodness."

Gaz was a little surprised but hugged you back. You both stood there like that for a bit until you said it, you didn't care. You'd bottled it in in fear for so long, and you'd almost lost him. You almost lost your best friend. "I love you so much."

Gaz didn't question it. Didn't dig into it. He only held you tighter, reassuring you he loved you back, and he wasn't going anywhere. There wasn't any need for clarification, there just was. You pulled away enough to look into his eyes, and the relief filled you both to the brim, you'd sort it out later, go through the details later. For now, you were here and he was alive.

"You should get cleaned up. I'll make you some tea as well."

Gaz smiles. "You're awesome, thank you." He leans forward and presses a soft, almost feather light kiss to your cheek.

"Don't worry, I know." He whispered, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. You didn't have to worry, he knew about your sexuality. And he was perfectly ok with it.

And without a second thought you both parted ways for a time.

Sure, you'd sort the fine details out later, but right now there wasn't a question about where this was headed.

Price 🥃

Price was a warm yet harsh soul. You'd known him for a couple years and he'd been amazing guidance for you. Always a light you could follow. In the darkest of times you could always reach for his hand and be assured you'd find it.

You'd recently found yourself swooning over him. You wanted to be in his embrace, feel those reassuring and firm hugs. His beard against your forehead when he kissed your head while talking softly.

And yet. Because of your ranks the scandelousness of a relationship was a bit tedious in the work forece. Sexual or not. But you didn't have sexual feelings for him. You were swimming in the ocean of love. But that was it.

After a recent mission you'd come back a little scratched up. You thought you were going to die and were in tears when you walked over to Price, feeling his arms wrap around you to comfort you.

He hadn't been there with you that time. But you were relieved to be back. Even when he pulled you into his office to clean your face you were still softly crying.

"It's alright sergeant, I've got you..." Price reassured as he pressed the alcohol pad to your chin.

You sniffled, wiping a tear from your cheek. "Price??"

"Yes sergeant. I'm right here."

You sniffle. "You know I love you right?"

He looks deep into your eyes, taking a moment to process your body language and fully understand. "I love you too sergeant. I'm glad you're ok."

You nodded a little. "You... You know it's not sexual right? I'm sorry if..." You said weakly. The earlier regret of the mission had made you slip your tongue, and now you felt more anxiety.

"I know kid, I know." He patted your shoulder. "Come here, you're still a little shaken up aren'tcha?"

You nod and crawl into his arms, feeling him hug you tightly. "It's alright. I'm here." He runs his hand up to the your nape of your neck, reassuring you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "This alright?"

You nod, clinging to him.

"Alright. We'll sort all these feelings out together in the morning ok? But I understand, and its ok."

"I love you Price." You choked out again. He softly shushed you, keeping you in his arms. "I know Y/n, I know."

Soap 🧼

Johnny was not unfamiliar with your secrets. He knew you very well and had come to learn of your lack of sexual attraction to others. Didn't change how he saw you, you were still his bestie.

He himself was conflicted in if he should tell you that he loves you. He didn't know how you might take it and wanted to remain respectful of you and your boundaries.

You laid on his bed with him, listening and joking as he told you a story about setting off a small bomb near the recruit bathrooms.

He was laughing so hard his face turned red, smiling wide as his hand brushed across yours while trying to find air.

You smiled back, gently taking his hand in yours. You watched his cheeks tint red and it makes your heart flutter. You were so in love with him. But knowing Soap... You were so scared to confess to him. Especially with your lack of sexual attracion and knowing he wanted kids in he future.

You'd bothed talked about your ideal future relatonship, and though you were almot perfect for each other, the differences were staggering to say the least.

But the way he was looking at you. With tha lost look of utter happiness as he talked to you...

"Soap??" You look up at him with a slightly less whimsy gaze, contemplating the heaviness of your next words.

"Soap, I just want you to know... You're my best friend and.." you squeeze his hand. "I love you."

He slowly calmed down and looked at you. "Oh... you do?" He could see the look in your eye and shuffled closer, getting slightly into your bubble without realizing.

You felt comfortable with him. So incredibly comfortable. All those years fretting and worrying what he'd think. All you saw right now was the smile of your best friend and how much you were in love with him...

Soap is a little quiet for a moment. "Not sexual right?"

His frown makes you worry as you rush to explain as best you could all over again. You just really love him and everything about him. Just not sexually.

It makes a smile spread across his face. He takes your hand and places it against his chest. "You are the most amazing person in the whole world y/n. I don't know what I'd ever do without you. I love you too."

"You're sure... but, our futures?"

He leaned in, cupping your chin. "We'll figure it out, promise?''

You smile softly, happy to have said it. He leaned in, warm breath drifting over your lips. "Can I kiss you?" He asked. You nod, and before you know it, his lips are sinking against yours.

König 🐙

You sighed, bouncing your knee in agitation. The thought of your first solo mission... You'd be lying if you said it wasn't daunting. You'd always gone on missions with König or different members from KorTac. But you'd never been assigned your own mission.

You started to question if you'd be good enough and could get home ok. It made you worry, if you'd ever come back.

You were wrapped up in your thoughts, not noticing the large figure who sat down next to you, leaning over to look at your face. "What has you looking like that y/n?"

You looked up at the sound of his voice and sighed. "I'm just nervous about the mission..."

He nodded understandingly and took your hand in his. "You'll be alright. I do not doubt your abilities one bit you know. You'll do it."

You chuckle softly. "You say that now but... What if I get hurt??"

"Then I'll come find you." He squeezes your hand. "But you will be alright."

Your heart clenches hearing him say that. You'd found yourself falling in love with Konig after a bit of time working with him. And now you were contemplating telling him. The only thing keeping you nack was well... You weren't sexually attracted to him. And you didn't want Koing to take it the wrong way.

You squeeze his hand a little tighter.

"König? You know... You've really been a good friend. And you've helped me grow so much since I've been here... I really don't know what I'd do without you here with me."

He tutted softly. "Do not start writing the words for your obituary, y/n."

You sigh, leaning against his shoulder, relishing the last hours you have with him before you'll be sent off. "I... I love you König... You know that? You're everything to me. I know it hasn't been two years but-"

"Shh" he squeezes your hand. "Take some deep breaths." He smiles softly. "I love you too, but do not expect you to be going anywhere soon. Ok?"

You relax, seeing how it wasn't a big deal. "It's not... sexual though, but It doesn't mean I dont love you, I'm very attracted to you, but it's not... Like that."

He hummed again. "We'll talk about all this in detail when you get back. And you will return, alright?''

You nod once more. "Thank you König. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand again gently. For reassurance. To tell you no matter what he was there. No matter what.

Alejandro & Rudy.

Alejandro sighed loudly, flopping down on the couch next to you and Rodolfo.

"Well well, welcome back Mr. Vargas." You chuckle, putting down your phone to see his tired expression. "How did it go?" Rodolfo asked lazily, eyes still trained on his book, curled up on the couch, his thigh against yours.

"I'm so glad to be off my feet." Alejandro sighed, grabbing the tv remote and turned it on, flipping through the shows before finding something to play.

He gets back up again and wanders into the kitchen, grabbing three ice cold drinks, tossing the other two to you guys who eagerly catch them and crack them open.

Alejandro huffs when he sits back down, taking a swig and finally relaxing. "Glad to be back with my two favorite people."

You and the boys were close enough and comfortable enough that you were ok with their physical touch, so you were used to Alejandro wrapping a respectful arm around your shoulder and you'd usually end up snuggled up, giving Rodolfo the room to join when he wanted.

Today was no different as you snuggled up to his side and felt his warmth. "Geez, maybe you need a bath. And you smell fuckin' awful." You snort.

Rodolfo chuckles and nods. "I can smell you from here Ale."

The man only rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Ya both better appreciate my presence. It's a gift."

"We do appreicate you Ale."

Considering how romantically fallen down the stairs you were for these two you were surprised you hadn't confessed yet. Always relishing the times you got loving physical contact with them. But knowing Ale as the flirt you always hesitate confessing your romantic attraction. Especially as it wasn't backed by sexual attraction.

You snuggled closer. "You work really hard for us Alejandro. You deserve all the rest today." You smile and hug his waist. You really did appreciate him. The fear and the worry of what he might think, of how he'd feel if you ever expressed it... But you went for it. You wanted him to know how much you appreciated him. You really did.

"You know... I love you, Ale. Like I said, you're amazing and you support us so much. Working your butt off like this just so we get a few hours off."

But they both were aware of your sexual preferences. That being none, so hearing this from you, they knew it was nothing but soft affection you had in your heart for them...

Alejandro smiled softly, his arm wrapping a little tighter around you. "Is that so??" He chuckled. "Not even you could resist falling in love with this eh?"

You roll your eyes playfully as he pulls you closer by the shoulder and kisses the top of your head. "I love you too y/n."

You stick out your foot, bumping your feet against Rodolfo's. "You too mister!" He looks up and smiles. "You are good y/n, it's a blessing to have you with us."

"Then come here you, get in on the cuddles."

Rodolfo huffs and puts down his book, but curls up with you two as you all watch the show. He leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck, kissing your jaw briefly. Soft affection. Nothing better than spending time with your two favorite people.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #captain john price #alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig cod #i fixed this out of anxiety #so i did try but it might not be the best

[pancake-breakfast]

I always forget to do stuff for ace awareness days, but I've remembered today, so I'm gonna take a second to talk about some of the struggles I've had being ace, and heteromantic grey-ace in particular.

Erasure: Oh, you want to be in a relationship? Surely you're not really ace, then. You're grey-ace? Sounds like you're just picky. You go for people of the opposite gender from the one you were assigned at birth? Not queer enough. I don't mean to say someone like myself doesn't face fewer problems with their queerness than others; there's no way in hell I deal with the level of shit some of y'all put up with. I "pass," especially when set in US purity culture. But this does not mean I experience sexuality the way most people do, and pretending I do causes all sorts of issues for both me and any partners I might pursue.

Realizing One's Ace-ness to Begin With: To the best of my understanding, this is incredibly common in the ace community. We're told we'll grow into it, that we're just late bloomers, that we haven't found the right person, and for AFAB people, that "women are just less into sex than men." All of this means it's not exactly uncommon for people not to realize they're ace until their mid-20's or later, often after they've been through a few relationships where they allowed things to go past their comfort levels because that's what's expected of someone in a relationship.

Loss of Meaningful "Friendships": I'm sure this happens to everyone to some degree, but it seems particularly cruel that a number of close friendships I've had pretty much evaporate overnight when it finally sinks in to the other person that I will not have sex with them. Usually, I'm completely unaware that all the time we've spent hanging out and chatting and bonding was them trying to build to a sexual relationship in the first place. I thought we were just really good friends and deeply valued what I thought was a platonic relationship only to have a rude awakening when all the times I said, "I'm ace," finally sink in. This is why I usually leave of the "grey" part when describing my asexuality. Anything else usually implies there's more hope to people than there generally is. Of all the "friendships" I've lost this way, the number that have gone on to become something healthy and platonic is... one.

Society isn't Built for Ace Folk: I'm a pretty strong introvert. I like my alone time. I like my space. But it's INCREDIBLY difficult to live on one's own, especially these days. It's not just the expectation that any household needs to pull two full-time incomes to stay afloat. It's the little things. If I'm sick, no one else is around to help keep the place clean or do the groceries or pick up medicine or drive me to the doctor's. A lack of platonic social spaces mean there's no one I can rant to in person about my patio birds or this Cool Thing I found while out and about. Who do I go to when I need a shoulder to cry on or a hug or just not to be alone with my anxiety for a bit? This is not to diminish my in-person friends, but they have their own lives and few of them live close by, so sometimes even when they want to be there, they can't. And if I do reach out to them too much, people are quick to question our relationship. That can interfere with any romantic relationships the friend has, or put either or both of us in an awkward situation. Sometimes, it leads to a closeness that the other person feels, but I don't reciprocate. It is hard to know that your life will always be more difficult because you refuse to take a sexual partner.

One of these days, perhaps I'll write something up about some of the nicer things about being ace, but today, this is what I want to share. May it help those of you who are on the ace spectrum feel a bit more seen and a bit less alone, and may it help those of you who have ace people you care for in your lives understand things a bit better.

#asexuality #international asexuality day #pancake thoughts #oversharing

[miko-but-twisted]

Magic Eyes!Yuu HC part1

Ok folks , as promised, here's the Magic Eyes!Yuu stuff you asked !! Hope you will enjoy, it might be one of my favorite homemade AU so far! Don't forget this is only my interpretation. As long you give me credit, feel free to use this AU as you like. I will also use a gender-neutral Yuu . Let's cut things short first: here's the link for the very BASIC IDEA/DRAFT. Today I will add more stuff . Still basic info , but with more context (I hope)!!

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

First of all: I will use the last point I mentioned in my previous post-> The idea of Yuu/Mc's lineage being from Twisted Wonderland, but because of stuff, they were yeeted out into a magicless world where their magic eyes were dormant and have no idea they have it for their whole life until they got yeeted back into TWST

Whatever happened and who their family is is something I will reveal in the near future, don't worry ovo

What's really important rn is how they reacted the first time their Magic Eyes activated

For the sake of this exemple, and also because i really like the idea, I will name those eyes Magic Eyes of Magic Perception (remember Lucario's aura sensing powers in pokemon movie 8 ? That's basically it) They can see people and everything else just fine, but everything magical has an aura around it. AND THEY ARE CONFUSED A HECK

Magic Eyes!Yuu: Ok , do you know you have a ... reddish aura around you ? Ace: I have no idea what you are talking about. Unless that's your way to say I am dashing ? Magic Eyes!Yuu: Not at all, but thank you for confirming I may have become crazy.

Note that each person's aura has a different color, but as long they don't have blot, it stays bright .

At first , they couldn't control it properly. It always activates on its own and when it does, it makes their eyes itch and burn to feel Not even eyedrops from good ol' Sam shop can help them ;;;;; Hopefully, with time (between Azul OB and chapter 4), they fixed the issue and can control its activation anytime they want.

Long story short, Magic eyes are a concentrated amount of nerves/circuits in the retina that produce energy/light, then become a sigil in the person's eyes. However, it leaves a burning/itching sensation. In Yuu's case, it starts like a little dot in the pupil and then grows bigger and more elaborate every time it activates until its final form

They keep it a secret from everyone, not even Grim, Crowley or the Ramshackle Ghost knows they have it. It's only after Riddle's Overblot they split the milk to the Braincell gang

Because OH BOI Yuu SAW WEIRD THINGS BEFORE IT ACTUALLY HAPPEN Such as Riddle's Aura becoming darker every time they see him. At first, Yuu thought it was only their imagination (like this whole aura thingy to be honest) But when Riddle's aura darkened during the duel in LIVE, they had cold sweat

Anyway I digress

Of course, no one knows what's going on with theirs eyes. And no one is smart enough to ask a teacher of course. Trein would have been a good choice in the matter...

Lilia and Malleus, however, seem to suspect something...

But the ones who seem to REALLY know what's going on are the little fairies👀

TO BE CONTINUED....

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

AND done! I hope you liked it! I must say that out of the MANY AU I have made so far, this one is my favorite. Close next to Janitor!Yuu After this I have planned a whole lore: starting from the origin of the Magic Eyes, to the event that led Yuu's in the non-magic world and even more! My brain is bubbling with ideas! Until next time, have a nice day/night!

PS: sorry for any grammatical error!

#twisted wonderland #Magic Eyes!Yuu AU #twst #twisted wonderland au #twst mc #twst yuu #magic eyes go brrrr

[jadethest0ne]

Just wanted to day that I really love your work!!! And Aldo was wondering if you'd be able to talk through the process of how you make your comics? You get them done so quick!! And their always so good from backgrounds to expression their amazing!!! Loving your aftermath comic BTW, I look for it constantly even tho I know you post mostly on Tuesday lolol.

Also- Ace solidarity unite!!! ✌️

Hey there! It is possible that you have me confused with @happyfoxx-art who is the one who does the Aftermath comic, so maybe she can say a thing or two about her comic process.

The comics I'm more known for are "The Brains and The Brawn", "Puppet on a String", and "Mikey Bakes a Cake."

In case you are asking about me specifically, I'll talk about my comic process. I usually start with lots of brainstorming in the form of daydreaming and occasionally scribbling out ideas. I often switch between creating a script and sketching out rough scenes depending on how visual the moment is. If there's more dialogue or I want to note down the events panel-by-panel, I'll script more, if the scene is more action-y and I have a specific idea for the layout that I want to visualize, I'll sketch it. I already talked about how I figure out posing in my sketchwork on a previous ask.

Often I create the scenes out of order and write/draw whichever comes to mind first. For example, these are an assortment of drawings I did on my first concept sketch page for "The Brains and The Brawn".

These are from pages 3, 4, 8, and 10, and while they have nothing to do with each other, they represented the main ideas I had for the comic overall.

After that I'll essentially finalize my written script to make sure everything flows well story-wise, and then go about adding or subtracting panels to lay them out in a proper page-like format. It's kind of like slotting puzzle pieces together to see what fits. This is how I get more dynamic action paneling in my comics. Below you can see some of my more disjointed initial sketches (left) become a bit more finalized (right):

From there I block in all the panels with lines, then trace over the sketches with lineart, and fill in the lines with color. Those stages involve a little less thinking on my part, since a lot of it is just filling in what I already have planned out.

I would personally like to get a bit better with color since I tend to color-pick from other source material a lot. I'm hoping in my next comic project to get a bit more trippy and abstract with the coloring. I make sure to keep each color on a separate layer, and group the layers by character to keep things organized. I usually fully color a character at a time.

After that, I add in lights, shadows, and any special effects. I think the shading and lighting is where it really comes together because it adds a nice sense of depth to everything.

Eye shines are very important to me.

I do dialogue and sound effects last. Yes, there is a basic dialogue I put in the script, but honestly, I struggle most with dialogue (I am shocked folks think that the lines are so in-character), so I put the most time and effort into finalizing that. I will make sure to keep space for where the dialogue bubble should go, but it's often filled with placeholder dialogue until I finalize it on the last step.

I'm aware that this is rather rare for comic artists - often the dialogue comes/is blocked in first for most from what I hear, But for me, the final drawing helps me figure out the right mood/tone for the dialogue in the end anyway. That's just what works for me.

Anyway, that's at least how my comic process goes. Thanks so much for asking! And if you were looking for @happyfoxx-art, then maybe she'll add onto this post. I, for one, would be interested in her process as well :3

(also, heck yeah! Ace solidarity baby!!! [shakes your hand])

#comic #comic process #art process #ask #jadethest0ne

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Tumblr Sexywoman Poll: Final Roster

Alright folks here's the final roster for my Tumblr sexywoman poll. Other people have done this but I want to see what kind of drama I can stir up this time. This will be a poll on which sexywoman is the most Iconic TM. What that means - if she's actually sexy, if she had cultural impact, if you just like her character, etc - is up to the individual voter.

Polls for each round will be up at 8 AM PST, with round 1 starting on February 7. Rounds 1 and 2 will last for one day each, rounds 3 and 4 will last for 2 days each, and round 5 will last for three days. Just to build dramatic tension. (EDIT: I checked and Tumblr is lame, unfortunately, so my only options are to keep the poll up for a day or a week. I will keep the first three rounds up for a day each. I'll probably have the last two rounds up for a day too but if enough people thing keeping one or both of them up for a week is good for dramatic tension I will do that.) I will also have a one-day buffer between each round to prepare for the next one. (Please bear with me - I'm a student.)

A disclaimer: I don't know almost half the franchises on this roster. I only know them from the sheer volume of horny fanart of said characters that crosses my dash via osmosis. I am aware some characters on here are minors in canon, and there may be more in the franchises that I don't know.

The inclusion of canonically underage characters does not reflect my values, only that I've seen a lot of people on Tumblr sexywoman-ify them. Regardless of whether it was right in the first place, I've seen people on Tumblr be horny about all the characters on this list. To not include them on this poll would be disingenuous.

This post will be pinned and updated with links to the polls for each round. All polls will be tagged "tumblr sexywoman poll" on my blog in case I don't get around to updating the links right after the polls are up. While I LOVE to see people arguing over their blorbos this poll is just one elaborate shitpost on my end so I hope everyone keeps it lighthearted and fun. May the best Tumblr sexywoman win!

Pandora

EDIT #1: Polls for round 1 are linked here. Sorry for the delay, everyone!

Katya Goncharov Vs. Vriska Serket - Winner: Vriska Serket (59%)

Catra Vs. Bowsette - Winner: Catra (61%)

Sally Vs. Queen - Winner: Queen (69%) (nice)

Malfina Vs. Ianthe Tridentarius - Winner: Ianthe Tridentarius (54%)

Loona Vs. GLaDOS - Winner: GLaDOS (77%)

Marceline Vs. Cassandra - Winner: Marceline (74%)

Doc Ock Vs. Princess Luna - Winner: Doc Ock (67%)

Jessie Vs. Riza Hawkeye - Winner: Jessie (54%)

Hornet Vs. Eda Clawthorne - Winner: Eda Clawthorne (58%)

Rouge the Bat Vs. Shego - Winner: Shego (66%)

Zarya Vs. Hatsune Miku - Winner: Hatsune Miku (66%)

Monika Vs. Lord Dominator - Winner: Monika (63%)

Ena Vs. Franziska Von Karma - Winner: Franziska Von Karma (55%)

Isabelle Vs. Lady Dimitrescu - Winner: Lady Dimitrescu (85%)

Lusamine Vs. Junko Enoshima - Winner: Junko Enoshima (69%) (nice)

Lapis Lazuli Vs. Yor Forger - Winner: Yor Forger (68%)

EDIT #2: Roster for round 2. The polls will be up at 8 AM PST on February 9th.

EDIT #3: Round 2 polls are up!

Vriska Serket Vs. Catra - Winner: Catra (56%)

Queen Vs. Ianthe Tridentarius - Winner: Queen (50%) (holy shit)

GLaDOS Vs. Marceline - Winner: GLaDOS (69%) (nice)

Doc Ock Vs. Jessie - Winner: Jessie (58%)

Eda Clawthorne Vs. Shego - Winner: Eda Clawthorne (64%)

Hatsune Miku Vs. Monika - Winner: Hatsune Miku (60%)

Franziska Von Karma Vs. Lady Dimitrescu - Winner: Franziska Von Karma (51%)

Junko Enoshima Vs. Yor Forger - Winner: Yor Forger (73%)

EDIT 4: The age of Junko, Vriska, and Resident Evil big lady ends now! The classic Tumblr sexywomen have been massacred this round. Special shout out the Ace Attorney fans for getting Franziska Von Karma to just barely beat Lady Dimitrescu. It can't have been easy. Also special shout out to Deltarune and Locked Tomb fans. there were 127 votes on that poll and Queen barely just beat out Ianthe. I did the math and if the votes were split 50/50, then Queen only got one more vote than Ianthe. Every vote counts, people!

Roster for round 3. The polls will be up at 8 AM PST on February 11th.

EDIT #4: Round 3 polls are up!

Catra Vs. Queen - Winner: Catra (52%)

Jessie Vs. GLaDOS - Winner: Jessie (59%)

Eda Clawthorne Vs. Hatsune Miku - Winner: Eda Clawthorne (70%)

Yor Forger Vs. Franziska Von Karma - Winner: Yor Forger (53%)

Also, nominate someone for my Vriska poll coming next week!

EDIT #5: Roseter for round 4. Polls will be up at 8 AM PST on February 13th.

It is with a heavy heart that I announced that Franziska Von Karma has been defeated. Kudos to the Ace Attorney fandom. You tried your best. I've been told that since like 50% of my followers followed me for The Owl House, that this poll was rigged. Maybe I should have made this poll on a side blog to distance it from all the TOH stans for a fairer poll. Guess we'll see if Eda likers or Yor likers come out on top this round. On the other side, I didn't expect Catra OR Jessie to make it this far. Props to Catra for defeating Vriska AND Queen holy shit.

EDIT #6: Round 4 guys. Sorry for the delay:

Catra Vs. Jessie - Winner: Jessie (64%)

Eda Clawthorne Vs. Yor Forger - Winner: Eda Clawthorne (52%)

EDIT #7: Roster for round 5. This is the final round, so I'll put the poll up for a full week. The poll will be up at 8 AM PST on February 15th.

EDIT # 8: Final Round! This poll will be up for a week. I'll probably unpin this post in favor of the Vriska poll roster when I have that up. Probably around the 18th. The winner of the sexywoman poll will crown the winner of the Vriska poll when that ends.

Jessie Vs. Eda Clawthorne

Thanks for voting, everyone!

Pandora

#tumblr sexywoman #tumblr sexywoman poll #i hope this poll kills another old rich fuck like the twitter sexyman poll did #hope its henry kissinger #elon musk isnt that old but killing him would be very funny #or just take the easy route and kill king charles #polls

[not-poignant]

I remember reading some asks that when you were in Guardians fandom, people were always correcting some stuff too, that they though is wrong or smth. And I feel like especially after so long writing your own universes, those very "smart" anons are really annoying. I just hope that they won't suck any wind from benith your wings and you don't spend much energy on answers to their asks and that you know always know - your writing is your own and we are fucking blessed for reading it <3

Maybe I just have forgotten so that I can mostly remember the good things (haha) but aside from people always having a bone to pick with me calling Pitch's daughter Seraphina, Rise of the Guardians was generally pretty chill!

I think back then there were a lot more 'why are you depicting Bunnymund this way?' or 'Why are you making this choice?' which as open-ended questions I really don't mind answering!! Even when it's obvious that the person who's asking the question doesn't agree with my depiction, then I can explain myself, vs. someone just anonymously coming in to go 'hi you are wrong' when... I'm not O.o

Different fandoms have different feels to them, kind of like visiting different countries! DnD / FR as a fandom seems to have a pocket of vocal people who want to prove they know more than me about DnD / FR to which I'll just say - you all know more than me, you win, here's your trophy, now let me write my fic the way I want thanks and learn how to read tags/author's notes :D That being said, the folks who don't care about that shit and just want to enjoy Astarion being railed / living his best-worst life have been the BEST and I really enjoy how thoughtful they are and how cool their comments are. There's some super engaged folks in this fandom who have really great takes on things, and I enjoy that side of it a lot.

Rise of the Guardians was incredibly creative. Like, to this day, I know one fanartist who went to work at Dreamworks, one who does official art for Hearthstone and works for Blizzard (her dream - and I still have her fanart of Gwyn in my house!), plenty more who went on to become professional artists, comic writers, writers, animators etc. I think the visual art and style of that show attracted so many people who love art, which was fun. We also had antis, but whatever, I feel like every fandom has those if you're active in the fandom.

Stardew Valley is mostly very mild, because it's intermittently very quiet and there's so many different pairings, and I've always written rarepairs. Generally people who enjoy that game are pretty low-key, and they're some of the nicest folks I've met in like anon asks and in comments! Love SDV peeps and it's been a pleasure to come back to the fandom.

Dragon Age: Inquisition was... lol. Lol. Well, look, I made some amazing friends through that fandom who I still know today. It attracted actually a surprising amount of older fandom folks who brought a lot of knowledge about how to write fic, so the fandom is drenched in really good fic, really good art. There was a ton of fucking drama, and some of the most acephobic rhetoric I've ever seen came out of this fandom, including asexual block-lists where people hunted each other down on Tumblr with things like 'have you blocked this person yet they're asexual' in anon. So like... DAI was a RIDE. The people I met in that fandom as friends I'll treasure. The actual fandom itself was a trash-fire depending on where you were. There were definitely a couple of BNFs in this fandom who made it their job to just hate other people, especially if they were ace and liked writing an ace Dorian Pavus. That was the first time I learned that blocking is good for the soul.

The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle is a tiny fandom made of people who all love Felix and Mildmay very much :D

Detroit Become Human was a weird experience and it felt like a weird fandom. It was I think Korean or Japanese fanart that actually inspired Eversion, since that's where the first reverse!AU fanart (at least that I saw) began. But the comments could be weird, the anons were sometimes weird (not always, but sometimes! Especially in the beginning - and I just think first impressions really count lol), and I remember joining a Connor/Hank Discord where the most active folks were very quick to tell me how I should write my story, which was like - I like that they liked the story, but I've never had people try to show how much they like something by trying to change it into something they like more in quite that way before? I didn't really feel like staying in the fandom, tbh, it's extremely cliquey, especially all the folks that have like 400 names for the different versions of Connor, and it feels like it has a steep learning curve if you want to join the 'club.'

It was also the story where I had to do the most heavy lifting on BDSM education. Like, this fandom felt very BDSM naive *overall* - there's obviously exceptions, but I had to literally change how I was writing the story to explain more things than I normally would have done in a fic like that, because I was just getting so many 'why would Connor want to be humiliated during sex' anons and comments which was like okay, okay, let's actually do some 101 brochure stuff with this (the chapter where Connor calls Luuk and they talk about Connor liking being humiliated was not meant to be a whole chapter dslkfjas).

In fandoms like Thorki I could assume that the majority of readers would sort of get that even if it was a kink they didn't like - it was still just a kink that people can like and/or help others out with explanations. So it's possible D:BH skewed young and/or just not BDSM experienced! Which is fine! It's just I've noticed it here the most of all the fandoms I've been in. There were folks who knew kink really well who didn't need any explanations there at all, because I tend to over-explain a character's reasoning at the best of times, but yeah.

These are all like... deeply personal experiences influenced by the pairings I'm writing and how deeply I'm going into each fandom! I was tag-tracking in RotG / D:BH / DA:I, so I saw a lot more stuff, I think.

There's other fandoms I've been a part of but not really written for much or at all, like Thorki (love it there) and Sebaciel re: Black Butler (love it there too, but we lose a lot of writers because of antis), and also Murderbot (really weirdly cliquey in a 'oh... I see' kind of way, which might explain why a small pocket of people are writing most of the fics - because they're the only ones allowed in their Discord lol). Murderbot fandom is why I didn't end up writing Murderbot fanfiction sdalkfjdsa

Anyway, fandoms are weird, personal spaces that should be heavily curated! But I can't stop anons coming into my inbox with certain 'flavours' of question per fandom unless I turn off anon and honestly where would be the fun of that :D :D :D

#asks and answers #personal #pia on fandom #DA:I was vicious because i remember realising i was ace at the time #so it was a pretty damaging fandom to be in #some of my favourite fanartists and writers got blacklisted #because they were ace + had written ace-spec Dorian Pavus #and my god the amount of cis gays who were like 'that's homophobia' while simultaneously #spouting the most acephobic shit you can imagine #was wild

[kmhnsecretexchange]

Title: shared secrets 

Author: @toomanysongsrae 

For: @/nyajimehinyata 💖💖 

Pairings: Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime 

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Cramping Hajime is bedridden and Nagito helps and comforts him during the tough time and they cuddle together 

A/N: I can never just write the prompt, there needs to be a silly little backstory lmao I hope you enjoy it, even though I took my liberties with the prompt! This was so much fun to write

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52563106

Hinata groans, pulling the thin covers over his head. It’s useless — it’s simply too loud in the Hope’s Peak infirmary, too bright, the bedsheets too starchy and itchy, the mattress too thin. He can’t get comfortable, and that means he stays tense, which does not help the matter.

He swallows down a wave of nausea, not wanting to throw up again. It always leaves him feeling even grosser than before, the slimy sensation of sickness on his tongue that makes his head spin and his stomach twist even harder.

This is stupid. This is why he decided to go on testosterone as soon as his doctor allowed it — well, this and the need to stunt any more of his stupid premature puberty that left him with curves in all the wrong places when all the other children still looked like, well, children.

He had always known he was a boy, much to his parents’ confusion and embarrassment. Thankfully, they wrapped their minds around it when they realized it wasn’t a phase and Hinata was not going to change his mind, and have been supportive of his journey ever since.

Japan, however, is not the most accepting of places for LGBTQ folk, so when he got into Hope’s Peak, an Academy renowned by being open-minded and accommodating to all students, Hinata made sure to tell the Headmaster that he wanted all of his records to state that he was male. Full stop.

Which is why he is hiding under that stupidly thin blanket on an uncomfortable bed in the school infirmary, a can of lemon soda on the bedside table — because he had to say to the uncaring nurse that he had a stomach bug of some kind. Stupid, he knows, but it gave him such a thrill to be able to pass as a cisgender male, that it was all worth it.

Just as Hinata resigns himself to spending the rest of the school day in pain, he hears a familiar, breathy voice.

“Komaeda?” He peeks his head out of the cover of the blanket to blink at the white-haired boy sitting on the examination table by the infirmary door, getting his hand bandaged by a very frazzled Tsumiki, with the bored-looking nurse observing over her shoulder.

“Hinata-kun!” Komaeda’s head whips in his direction, a genuine smile spreading across his pretty face. Hinata’s cheeks grow warm. “What are you doing here?”

Hinata shifts nervously. Him and Komaeda had recently gotten over their differences and began talking (…and other, more intimate, things), but Hinata hadn’t come out to him yet. It felt too awkward to mention in passing conversation, but there was also the chance that Komaeda would lose interest in him once he knew. And that… Hinata wasn’t sure he could deal with that just yet.

“Stomach bug,” he mumbles, lowering his eyes to Komaeda’s hand. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, nothing important!” Komaeda exclaims, waving his free hand dismissively. “I scratched myself, nothing major. You know how clumsy I can get!”

“W-w-well,” Tsumiki stutters. “It was ac-actually a b-b-big cut, K-Komaeda-san! And it’s r-r-r-risky, with y-your cond-conditio—,” Komaeda shoots her a dark look, making her squeak in fear and drop the roll of sterile bandages.

“It’s fine!” Komaeda lifts his bandaged hand, moving it around to show Tsumiki, Hinata and the nurse that the bleeding had stopped and the wound was properly covered. “See? I’m all good. You can go back to class, Tsumiki-san!”

The nurse nods and goes back to sit at her desk, whipping out a gossip magazine, featuring their senpai, Maizono-san, on the cover.

“A-alright, Komaeda-san,” Tsumiki bows deeply to him, then turns to bow at Hinata as well. “R-rest a little, p-p-please! And get better soon, H-Hinata-san!”

Hinata nods goodbye at her absent-mindedly, ignoring her fumbling exit and choosing instead to watch Komaeda as he jumps off the exam table and makes his way over to him.

“So, stomach bug?” Komaeda sits himself on the edge of the bed, facing Hinata. He wrings his hands in his lap for a moment before extending one to carefully push a stray lock of Hinata’s fringe away from his forehead. It’s an intimate gesture in a semi-public place, and Hinata’s eyes dart towards the nurse, but she seems too focused on the magazine to pay them any attention. “My poor Hinata-kun…”

Hinata flushes, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. He’s considering pulling a hand out from underneath the blanket and running his fingertips along Komaeda’s delicate knuckles, asking him what happened to his hand, maybe entwine their fingers if he feels brave enough, but another cramp hits him hard, and all he can do is curl tighter, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to stave off the newest wave of accompanying nausea.

Komaeda’s fingers comb through his hair sweetly, and all Hinata wants to do is melt into his touch. “Sorry,” he eventually says, wincing internally at how frail his voice sounds. “I’m not the best company today.”

When he opens his eyes again, Komaeda is frowning at him with concern in his silvery eyes. “Hinata-kun,” he murmurs, “you should probably go home and get some proper rest.”

Hinata shakes his head, then has to close his eyes for a second as the room tilts dangerously. “No, it’s fine! I gotta go back to class anyway.”

“You’re definitely not going back to class,” Komaeda says, a pale eyebrow lifted. God, Hinata loves how expressive his face is. He watches as the pale boy whips out his phone and taps the screen a few times before slipping it into his pocket again. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”

“Ah,” Hinata winces. He doesn’t want to go back to his room. It’s a shared dorm, and his dorm mate, another boy from the reserve course, is the loudest, messiest, boy-est person he’s ever met. “It’s— it’s okay, I’ll just stay here.”

“You misunderstand me,” Komaeda smirks, helping Hinata sit up and grabbing his shoes. “I know you share a dorm room, so — I’m taking you to my place.”

“A-ah.” Hinata repeats, flushing again. They haven’t been in each other’s rooms yet, so this feels more intimate than anything they had done before — even more intimate than making out in the hidden corner of the reserve course library, apparently. “What— what about your classes?”

“We’re not graded by attendance in the main course. And don’t worry,” he says faux-casually, kneeling next to the bed and slipping Hinata’s shoes onto his feet, neatly tightening the laces before tying them in a pretty little bow. “Nothing has to happen between us, it’s just so you have a more comfortable space to rest in.”

Komaeda glances up, and Hinata notices his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. He has pale, faint freckles on his nose, Hinata realizes — it makes his heart race to notice such a tiny detail.

“Unless you don’t want to?” He asks, head cocked to the side as he stands back up, holding his hand out to Hinata.

“No, no, yeah, it’s…,” he fumbles, taking Komaeda's extended hand and standing up. Hinata looks up those two inches Komaeda has on him and meets his eyes, sees the tentative hope in their depths — his pulse stutters at how close they’re standing. He smiles through the dull, constant pain in his lower back and stomach. “That sounds… really nice.”

——

They ride to Komaeda’s home in a sleek black car, with tinted windows and a privacy screen separating them from the driver — the driver, who wears a black suit and hat, as well as white driving gloves, just like you see in those Hollywood movies, and who opened the door for both of them with nothing more than a polite nod. It’s fancy and foreign, and Hinata sits stiffly, hoping he doesn’t bleed onto the obviously expensive cream leather seats.

Komaeda sits by the opposite window, his tie and top button half undone. He’s watching the world fly by outside the car window, but his hand rests on the seat between them, palm up in an obvious invitation.

Hinata breathes through the sharp pain of a new cramp, and places his hand in Komaeda’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees the other boy smile.

——

After the shock of the fancy car and the polite driver, Hinata shouldn’t be feeling the way he is — and yet, surprise and wonder flows through him as Komaeda leads him inside his home. Well, inside his mansion.

He kicks off his shoes in a daze, gawking at the wide expanse of white marble floors and tall ceilings, the walls decorated by expensive paintings. As Komaeda takes him by the hand up the lavish staircase with an ornate handrail, he can’t help but feel like he’s in a museum, not a home. It feels too performative, too impersonal. Hinata wonders what Komaeda’s parents do to have such an opulent home.

Finally, after it feels like he just took a tour through the Louvre, Komaeda rushes him into an actual, lived-in space. “Stay here,” he says, ducking into what has to be the en-suite bathroom as Hinata looks around the potted plants, filled bookshelves, and piles of magazines about Hope’s Peak Academy. He’s such a fanboy, he thinks fondly, pretending the walls of his own bedroom at home aren’t covered in posters of Hope’s Peak alumni.

“There, change into these — hopefully they’ll fit alright,” Komaeda smiles, handing him a set of pyjamas that are softer than anything Hinata ever touched before. He sheepishly hopes he doesn’t bleed through — everything here is worth more than his own existence. “I’ll be right back.”

Hinata changes into the soft, comfy pyjamas, his heart just as soft for a short moment. Who could have told him that Komaeda — harsh, sneering, uppity Komaeda, the who teased and taunted him for being a mere reserve course — that this Komaeda was the same as that Komaeda. He smiles, touching the lapel of Komaeda’s signature green jacket, and then something inside him clenches — literally— and he has to hold onto the desk chair. He feels so sick so suddenly that he’s unsure if he can stay upright for much longer, so he half-shuffles, half-stumbles to the bed, cradling his stomach, dark spots at the edge of his vision. Even his thighs are cramping, the muscles winding themselves so tightly into knots that he falters and tilts forward, collapsing onto the bed in a moaning heap. Fuck.

Of course, Komaeda choses that moment to walk back in the room, arms full of items he haphazardly drops onto the desk. “Hinata-kun!” He exclaims, rushing over to a curled up Hinata and placing a cold hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

Hinata groans into the plush comforter, embarrassment creeping over him.

“Hmm,” Komaeda hums sympathetically, rubbing his hand over his spine, up, then down, then soothing circles on the small of his back, right where it aches. “Get under the covers, will you, Hinata-kun? I’ll help.”

Hinata nods, feeling grateful, if a little pathetic, and shuffles into Komaeda’s bed. The mattress is nice, without any springs pushing through and poking him in the ass, and the bedsheets slide over his skin pleasantly, cooling his feverish skin. His eyes slide shut without him thinking about it, the quiet, shaded room doing wonders to his nausea, and even though he’s half-sitting, slouched uncomfortably forwards, he feels closer to falling asleep than he did in the two hours he spent laying down in the infirmary ward at Hope’s Peak.

Komaeda touches his shoulder gently. “Ah, and, Hinata-kun,” he says, fingertips touching the cropped hair at the nape of his neck, “you should take off your binder before laying down.”

Crap.

Hinata freezes, his eyes staring unseeing at the light grey duvet. Crap, crap, crap! He hadn’t come out to Komaeda yet, not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because… Well, truthfully, because he’d been scared. What if Komaeda lost interest in him? What if Komaeda felt… betrayed, lied to? Or, worse yet — what if Komaeda didn’t care, because he wasn’t actually that into Hinata, because this was just a bit of fun to him? All of these, and worse, had made Hinata’s insides shrivel in panic, and so he hadn’t told him. And now… Now Komaeda knows, somehow, and must be feeling so disappointed in him.

Hinata bites his lower lip and reaches behind himself for the binder clasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Komaeda politely busying himself with the items he had dropped onto the desk, and shame overflows from his pores, from his bloodstream, from his eyes. He rips his binder off and throws it somewhere close to the rest of his clothes, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before laying down in a foetal position, facing away from Komaeda’s tall, slender figure.

Fuck. He should have said no to Komaeda back then, should have stayed in the uncomfortable infirmary cot and suffered, in silence, all alone, like he deserves for continuously failing to meet even the lowest of other people’s expectations of him.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda murmurs, brushing Hinata’s hair back with gentle fingers. “I have some tea for you.”

“S’okay,” Hinata murmurs moodily. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll be out of your hair soon. Sorry.”

Komaeda shuffles behind him, then places the mug on the nightstand. Hinata hears him step away from the bed, and smiles bitterly. There, just as he deserves.

But Komaeda walks back towards him. The bed shifts behind Hinata’s back, and then there’s a hand on his back again. “Alright, no tea,” Komaeda says quietly. “How about a hot water bottle, then? It always helps me whenever I’m cramping.”

It takes Hinata longer than he’d like to admit for the words to register in his brain. Does Komaeda mean…?

Pushing through the debilitating pain, Hinata sits up and turns himself around to face Komaeda. “You mean…?”

Komaeda smiles at him. “What, you thought you were the only trans kid at a school like Hope’s Peak?” He chuckles, not unkindly, and touches Hinata’s hand again, his thin, pale fingertips curling around Hinata’s thicker, tanner ones. “Half of my class is trans, Hinata-kun, myself included.”

“Oh.” Hinata licks his lips sheepishly, then curls up again. “Ow…”

Komaeda passes him the tea with a quirked eyebrow. “Drink. I’m getting changed and then I’ll rub your back while you rest.”

——

Hinata thanks whatever higher power there is that his cramping hit him on a Thursday, because it lets him spend the rest of the weekend at Komaeda’s. That Friday he’s practically bedridden, fighting back a migraine and waves of horrible cramping that leave him silently weeping in pain — thankfully he has Komaeda taking care of him, getting him cold patches for his forehead and hot water bottles for his stomach, rubbing his back and petting his head and kissing him all better. Hinata feels pampered, loved even, and he recovers quicker than ever.

By Saturday afternoon, he’s able to have lunch with Komaeda on his balcony, holding his hand and gawking at his view of Hope’s Peak campus. They share a lot about themselves on that weekend — about their families (or lack of it, in Komaeda’s case), about coming out, about their hopes for the future. Hinata learns about Komaeda’s health issues, about how bitter and hopeless he had felt when he started at Hope’s Peak, about how he is now starting to see a glimmer of hope in his future, and thinks about how lucky he is to be close to someone like Komaeda.

They learn about each other that weekend and find themselves falling harder for the other. On Sunday evening, when Komaeda’s driver takes Hinata home to his dormitory, they cuddle up on the backseat, sharing quiet laughs and quick kisses. Unwilling to let each other go, it takes them over thirty minutes to part ways, and only after a promise to meet for lunch on Monday does Hinata leave the car, slipping into his dorm building without looking back so he wouldn’t give into the temptation of going back into Komaeda’s arms.

He steps over the carelessly discarded books and chocolate wrappers on the floor and quickly changes into his pyjamas, still on cloud nine. He crashes onto the bed, the springy mattress poking his back, and pulls the scratchy covers over his head. He smiles at his phone, at the new photo of himself and Komaeda that he had just set as his wallpaper, pink-cheeked and squished together to fit into the phone camera, and then smiles wider as a notification from the other boy pops up.

Even though his body aches from two days of cramping, even though the bed is infinitely less comfortable than Komaeda’s, even though he’s alone in the middle of someone else’s mess — Hinata feels like he’s never been happier.

#kmhnsecretexchange #submission #fanfiction #sfw #suggestive #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #sdr2 #dr3

[paxesoterica]

Mer-Mer-Mercury![1]

There rode a certain witch, from Mercury it's said She was big and strong, and her hair a flaming red Some haters came at her, with anger and with screed But most Gundam fans, saw in her a charming lead She's oft the most memeable of creatures Bringing laughter and joy to most But her strength and kindness are the features More would do well to host

Mer-Mer-Mercury! Partner of Miorine! Succeeded beyond expectations! Mer-Mer-Mercury! Ace pilot and Coven's Key! That's not up for interpretations!

"Tomato's gotta go", declared her enemies But her fanbase begged, "A few episodes more please!" A dork (affectionate), she'd garnered much goodwill Though she had her flaws, Suletta was well-liked still Then one day a poll of M.C. scoring Challenged her, it's not to blame "Come, prove yourself", the thread was imploring And the witch was game

Mer-Mer-Mercury! Partner of Miorine! They beset her with all the downvotes![2] Mer-Mer-Mercury! Ace pilot and Coven's Key! She was unfazed, more scared of the goat!

Mer-Mer-Mercury! Partner of Miorine! They exclaimed she'd earn no higher place! Mer-Mer-Mercury! Ace pilot and Coven's Key! And so they shot her off into space![3]

Oh, those Redditors[4]

***

Sung to the tune of "Rasputin" by Boney M.

I'd originally used the word 'upvotes', due to the rules of the poll dictating that you upvoted the person you wanted out, but I figured this version would better preserve the sentiment should it be voided of context.

No lesbian space tanukis were harmed in the voting of the poll; Suletta was recovered safely from the vacuum of space and has forsworn revenge. Now, her sister whose a literal ghost in the machine that can hijack WMDs, on the other hand...

Context: There's been a protagonist elimination poll on the Gundam subreddit for the past couple weeks. Suletta was doing very well, but her winning streak finally ended and she was voted out at 4th place. I didn't think the poll was supposed to be particularly serious, since the first elimination, Judau Ashta from Mobile Gundam ZZ, was due to a meme[5], so to pay tribute to Suletta's valiant struggle, I wrote a parody song. Unfortunately, some folks took the poll and their beef with fictional teenagers Very Seriously[6], so it got a mixed reception. Still, a few folks enjoyed it, and I think I did a good job, so I decided to preserve it and share it with folks here as well.

The opening song for Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ is "Anime Ja Nai ~Yume o Wasureta Furui Chikyūjin yo~", which apparently translates to "It's Not Anime (You Antiquated Earthlings Who Have Forgotten Dreams), so it's a fairly common meme in Gundam fandom that ZZ 'is not anime'.

Considering the show ended 9 months ago at this point, which as far as the modern entertainment cycle goes might as well be 9 years, the longer The Witch from Mercury continues to live in haters' heads rent-free, the more I'm impressed. Here's to hoping folks are still living mad about it 9 actual years from now.

#parody #mobile suit gundam: the witch from mercury #suletta mercury #fandom #my writing

[aemxnd]

hi there! long time no see, how have you been? have you had a great summer?

after accidentally stumbling on my email i used to set this up (to be honest i forgot it even existed, i despise gmail with a fervour i cannot describe), i realised i’ve not explained why i just disappeared without a word.

the short version is i had a blip. i looked back at my work here and felt first- and second-hand embarrassment for myself over my own writing, reading my own work and cringing so hard i could’ve turned inside-out. i guess that’s what happens when a hesitant ace writes smut — my conscience kicks in and i realise i’m not the best equipped to write things i don’t know all that much about.

tmi? i don’t even know her.

on top of that, i felt like something of a fraud because even though i’d watched hotd a thousand times over, i hadn’t seen a single episode of game of thrones. i took my embarrassment blip as motivation to actually watch all 8 seasons (with deep regret and self-loathing sinking in around season 7) and now i’ve come out the other side, i feel better placed to understand what hotd even means. i understand there’s a few of us in the same boat, considering hotd could easily be considered a stand-alone show and knowledge of got isn’t essential. however, i still felt like i needed to know why the fandom spoke about various things in the targaryen future post-hotd before i could give an informed analysis and consider myself a “fan.”

as i’m sure a lot of you know from personal experience, hyperfixations come to a natural end whether we like it or not. don’t get me wrong, i still adore aemond, fanon!aegon and daemon the same as the first day i posted here, but my interest in the hotd world waned after watching got and that pains me because i loved it so much, particularly as i hadn’t started reading any got fics as no characters caught my attention in the same way aemond had. but it turns out my feeling of inadequacy in the fandom was also my downfall, in suitably informing myself about the got world, i found myself lost with hotd and i’m not entirely sure if i’ll be able to make it back until the new season airs. trust me, i recognise the irony of this all coming from an ahs stan who wrote about her favourite season 3 years after the hype had come and gone, but i’m here to be honest about when to expect me back.

opening those 800 emails to see just how many of you lovely folks have followed me and kept me in fandom conversations since i last wrote was a bittersweet revelation because i knew it was going to take me longer than i expected to come back and write more, but i know i can’t force myself in fear of writing substandard content.

again, you can’t predict hyperfixations and i may just make a sly return before the new season, but i’m managing expectations because you’ve all been so lovely to me in my short time here and i don’t want to let you down.

personally, i’ve found the first step to returning to writing is re-reading my content, so i’m hoping a good binge of my works and wips will motivate me rather than disgust me this time.

my requests remain open and will not close, as any inspiration to return might be the turning point i need to get back here full time.

until we meet again, thank you for your support, kindness, generosity, understanding and love. this fandom is beautiful and i can’t wait to find the impetus to return where i belong.

valar morghulis, folks.

#ally speaks

[everafterfrisk]

Here we go again Folks and today I'll be dissecting the popular topic of "Ruby isn't affected by anything across the volumes"

-I'm gonna be honest and say this claim is pretty much BS

Volume 3

- Ruby falling to the ground in sadness after seeing Penny's Dismantled Body

> Was mortified by Pyrrha's Death at the hands of Cinder

Volume 4

In the DC Comics(which take place during the events of Vol 3-4)

Ruby showcases alot of uneasiness and self doubt

▪︎I.E being worried about how Yang felt back at the end of Volume 3

▪︎Believing that she herself can't go on without her team backing her up

▪︎Questioning if she can truly make the right choice

"No One is truly alone".

"What you can do and Who you are-- These are Two very different things".

"No Person is Lesser for Being Alone,

You miss them but You aren't incomplete without them"

"They may bring Forth the Best in You

But the Best still Belongs to You".

- Episode 2 - Ruby is shown having Nightmares about the events of Volume 3

Vol 5

-After the battle with Tyrian, Ruby was upset that she indirectly got her uncle poisoned as well as not being so welcoming about team JNR joining her as the Problems got increasingly worses

"I should've never brought you guys into this"

But the Most powerful scene in this Volume for Ruby is her talk with Oscar

Where she tells him that how distraught she felt about Pyrrha's and Penny's Deaths & wished she could've gotten to know them better

Proclaiming that if she were have died, Pyrrha and Penny would try to keep fighting no matter the obstacle

As she then says that moving forward is what she has to do in order to protect who she cherishes left

Which parallels Issue #6 of the Comics

"Even When it's Hard---

--Just Live".

Which leads to the 2nd Strongest scene for Volume 5 Ruby

The Letter Scene

"Believe me when I say I know it can feel impossible. Like every single day is a struggle against some unstoppable monster we can never hope to beat. But we have to try…"

As Ruby is writing a letter to Yang about how although the World may seem bleak and while things may be painful in the long run, With the right people working together for a good cause can make an extraordinary change no matter how small it seems at first

Also Ruby LITERALLY TEARS UP DURING THIS SCENE

The Silver Eyes Activated after Ruby had a PTSD flashback of Pyrrha's Death when Jaune was going to clash with Cinder in the battle of Haven

■ Ruby was seen shocked by Weiss's fatal injury from Cinder's Spear strike

Volume 6

■ Felt a little Betrayed by Ozpin's Secret after Jinn revealed the Truth

■ Her Silver Eyes Activated When Blake was almost at death's door against the Apathy

■ Confronted Qrow about his lack of willingness to keep moving forward during "Lost" & "Stealing from the Elderly" Episode

Wanting him to view Team RJNR as people who can fight alongside him instead of just being a bunch of children who needs to be protected

"Just because you don't have an idea, doesn't mean we're out of options! Oz hasn't been here to tell us what to do, but we still managed to get this far anyway. We've been in bad situations before, and we don't need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do. We just did it our way! And I say we do it our way. And if you think you can keep up with us "kids"... we'd be happy to have you"

"We're all in this together, and we're all going to do the best we can. That's all anyone can do. And I know it's what you've always aimed for. We would've come whether or not you'd let us, so stop talking like we're your responsibility! We're not! But we could still use Qrow Branwen on our side"

Volume 7-8

■ Immediately felt guilty about lying to Ironwood about the Other stuff that happen with Ozpin

■ During Her Talk with Qrow, She even questions if she even knows what she has been doing was the correct decision

■ Ruby pleads Harriet in the "Ace Ops vs Team Rwby" to stand down and join her team in saving the citizens

■ Stood in Confusion and shock after witnessing a Silver Eyed Grimm Hybrid

■ in Volume 8 Finale,

Ruby is seen shedding a tear during her fight with Neo(Supposedly as a result of Yang's death)

---> in the Vol 9 sneak peek it showcases Ruby's POV where she was having constant anxiety attacks throughout the fight against Cinder

And in the Volume 9 Chapter 1 Sneak Peek Clip

Ruby breaks down and Cries to herself reflecting upon the events that have transpired

So Yeah I think this pretty much sums up how much these events have had an Impact on Ruby's emotions

(She ain't just Happy all the time and Ignores all the tragedy, if anything she tries using it as a Coping Mechanism of some sort in order to move forward & keep her mind away from the Darkness)

Hope yall Enjoy

#rwby analysis #rwby ruby #ruby rose #rwby

[angelsndragons]

oh luis, it is a relief to know that ace folk like me aren’t the only ones who completely miss the undertones when we’re producing stuff. also i am punch drunk tired because it has been a long day over here.

but also i’m just going to sit here and laugh at the fandom for a good long time because i was so annoyed at how many bad takes on my boy zerxus are floating around (and how one in particular feels like a dig at me, if you know, you know, if you don’t you don’t) but now it’s just not as annoying anymore. my reading on zerxus is so much closer to where luis’ head was at than the vast majority of people that i ain’t even mad anymore at the people saying zerxus should have had the wisdom to know when to walk away, very pointedly using the mechanics as a sort of gotcha instead of understanding that it’s not hubris to try to make a difference, even a seemingly tiny almost imperceptible difference to the world. when mortals are but ants to the cosmic giants running around, margins matter. it’s not hubris, it’s compassion and anyone who’s yelling at zerxus for trying and failing needs to stop liking the everlight for doing the exact same thing knowing that someone else had failed before her. please, enlighten me as to the difference between their attempts. and don’t say it’s because she’s a goddess and he’s a mortal, the raven queen already proved that the line between the two is much thinner than either would like to admit.

i need to people to recognize that the instant zerxus realized that asmodeus wasn’t serious, he immediately went into damage control and mitigation. when asmodeus actively rejected zerxus’ attempt, as opposed to passively in that one vision, zerxus made it his mission to mitigate as much of the fallout as he could. this man took the first arm of the betrayer, knowing the contract it held, and came back to fuck up asmodeus’ plans as best he could. and he succeeded! he succeeded so hard that eventually, because of him and the ring of brass, the calamity will end. asmodeus gave zerxus the chance to save the world and zerxus took it, hook, line, and sinker.

i need people to understand that zerxus choosing to go to asmodeus in the end is not borne of arrogance or a lack of wisdom on his part. it’s borne of faith. he’s not going to asmodeus because he is still trying to save asmodeus, he’s taking the contract to save himself and to make whatever minuscule difference he can in between the floggings, the slaughtering, the whatever that asmodeus will force him to do. he’s taking it out of the hope that one day he will get to see his husband and son again.

i need people to understand that death does not equal redemption, death just equals death. being alive will always accomplish more, good and bad, than being dead. death just stops everything; it doesn’t fix it, it doesn’t leave you the room or opportunity to make amends. it just makes people dead.

i also need people to understand that your line is not zerxus’ line. i, personally, could not do what zerxus does here. at all. i probably couldn’t even play it in a game. that doesn’t make zerxus wrong because if we talking grand cosmic scale the likes of which even we as nearly omniscient audience members cannot see, the only way to “balance” the scales (and lord i hate that notion, that a good thing done cancels out a bad and vice versa) in the end is for zerxus to live, to be able to one day add good to the world again.

tl;dr: stop saying that zerxus does not know his oaths and that his fatal flaw is his low wisdom and high arrogance. his fatal flaw, if it can be called that, is his high charisma and his unyielding faith.

#cr spoilers #exu calamity #exu spoilers #exu calamity spoilers #my ramblings #not quite meta #gonna regret this in the morning #zerxus ilerez #also can we please leave the disparaging comments out of the main character tags #please #manners matter people