#obviously tagging and whatnot is important

[babycharmander]

Weird folks: Vent art of any form is good and all but it should ONLY be between you and your therapist. Don’t share that stuff online or publish it!!!

Me, an artist/writer: *goes to therapy, talks about my trauma and mental health and how sometimes it’s hard to talk about it with others*

Therapist: Have you thought about using your art and writing to help you work through these things and share them with others?

#writing #I don’t know what to tell you man #when you go to therapy—at least in my experience—your therapist will tell you to share your art with others #obviously tagging and whatnot is important #but sharing vent works is healthy #you don’t have to always share it but it can be a very good thing #my therapist regularly asks me about my art/writing #I even brought this up to her—the fact that I see people claiming you should never post vent works #and she was BAFFLED #also like… man if I didn’t post vent fics #most of my fics would not exist

[the-kipsabian]

.

#idk if this is angsty or not so im just gonna throw it in the tags #but like. i fully know what my problem is. and how i could fix it. and literally the only thing making me sad and upset is myself #why? because my choice of medium is writing. because that makes it incredibly difficult to get anything out there and get people interested #in my creations. cause visual media is preferred so much over written anything cause its so much easier to consume #it doesnt help that i dont work with popular characters or ships (literally my current work im most excited about is for a ship only *i* #have contributed to so far. like.. we are talking that level of unpopular choices here) #and like. i dont say this to shame or blame anyone. this is obviously my choice. ive decided to do both of these things when i could have i #so much easier. i wouldnt be better at it if i did visual shit still. im way worse at that than writing. ive always been a writer first #but.. honestly seeing the difference with interaction and even in general interest due to these factors... #idk man. again i know this is entirely self inflicted like i chose this. i chose all of these things. and continue to do so #ive literally seen all of this. im not making it up. im not talking about just in general im talking this has happened to me personally #that rare time in june i made and posted art? do you understand the amount of ppl that said 'ive missed your stuff'? #the same people that dont consume my current works due to their form and have never went on the lengths to say the same thing about #my writing? when i took a two year hiatus from all of that basically? but a few months of visual arts? #idk fam im just. i understand all of this but im hurt. you know? #cause i know it doesnt matter. and its so much more difficult. i know there are people out there who love and appreciate what i do #and who understand how important this is to me compared to other stuff and before and whatnot #but at the same time the negatives (that are mostly in my head but they are still real things and they still hurt) are so much louder #i dont know where im going with this. im just thinking. excuse the brain barf #or dont. whatever. im just.. acknowledging my recent feelings. there is a reason i had a breakdown few days ago and yesterday was so rough #i should probably go to bed. sorry about this #its not gonna change anything in how stuff is viewed or how im gonna act about it but just.. you know. putting this out there #the inequality of how art is treated just has me thinking. that maybe im not made for this #maybe i should just be the below mediocre visual artist that does things that give them no happiness just cause it gets more attention #idk. just. yeah #good night #night is an absolute mess on main

[girlboysollux]

i just got a fantastic idea for a paranormal romance story gimme a sec to write it out

#ok so. these two people are dating right. one of em dies in some kinda funky way #dead person never believed in ghosts but the person who lived did (that could be sprinkled in throughout the story before they die) #obviously the person who lived wants to contact their lost loved one. so they break out the good ol ouija board and head to the place #where the other person died #amazingly the other person is now a ghost and managed to communicate with them (but pretty poorly cuz it was the first time doing that) #and so the rest of the story is a light hearted tale about the ghost learning to communicate with their partner using the fancy ghost #detecting tools and whatnot. #not sure how the story would end but its not like ill ever write it so i guess thats not all that important #personal tag #save. #<- might write a fanfic about that at some point who knows

[crystalflygeo]

Sinful voice. ft "Morax" + fem!reader (modern AU)

cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, uuhh fantasizing? petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, babygirl, darling).

notes: I literally had this sudden brainrot idea today at work (rip) and as soon as I came home I typed all this in a rush and bOI. That man's voice is just...... no words. Drives me insane, wild, crazy, feral.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You were starting a new chapter of your life, fresh into college, moving to a whole other city to dedicate to your studies and enter the “adult world”

You’d arrived a few weeks early to move in and start settling on your little space, it was barely a small room in a house you’d share with other new students. You’d even share a kitchen but hey, at least each one had a tiny individual bathroom for yourselves.

Tomorrow was the big day. Your first day. And although you’d heard many people say they would just take it easy or even skip the first few days (because “they were not that important” as schedules and teachers were still being organized) you’d heard just as many stories about how college was difficult and important and you gotta make good first impressions and familiarize and meet new people and blablabla…

It was pretty nerve-wracking.

So here you are, way past midnight, rolling over in bed unable to calm down.

You sigh and start messing around with your phone, bored. Maybe you can just skip tomorrow?

Or maybe…

You bite your lip. There’s a little something you can do to… relax.

Before you can even think, your fingers are already typing the familiar webpage name on the phone, already smiling mischievously.

In your search for a little “spice” for your solo pleasure sessions you often went for audios and ASMR content. The sounds and voices were much hotter than excessively raunchy lame crude run-of-the-mill videos in your honest opinion. All you had to do was get comfy, close your eyes, and immerse on the fantasy. It was bliss.

And so, a few months ago you had found him.

Morax.

Oh, that man had a voice to die for, deep and rich like syrup, making you shiver and whine every time. His content was absolutely top-notch and you’d been instantly drawn like a moth to a flame ever since you’d managed to drag out one of your best orgasms ever after listening and playing along for a few minutes.

And when you dug around and found his subscription page? Oh boy, you were a goner.

You can only imagine what your parents would say if they knew you spend money on something like this but hey, financial independence means you can spend your money (from part time-jobs and whatnot) on whatever you want.

And damn you want this sexy voice murmuring dirty praise on your ear.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing your earphones and getting rid of some of your clothes before settling down again comfortably, pillow propped against the headboard, almost giggling excitedly as you scroll around the page’s contents.

Morax was obviously an experienced dom. His content covered a myriad of different kinks and scenarios, many of which you had even only started to explore because of him. And though his voice was always calm and refined, with this sweetness and dominant tilt to it, his growls and groans could be just as wild. Morax sounded downright sinful when angry, scolding or degrading the listener. And his moans and soft chuckles? Oh, you could just faint with those.

Or come, probably. Yeah.

“Daddy fucks you in his lap” “Overstimulating my pet’s little clit” “Grind your sweet pussy on Master’s leg” “Waking you up with my big cock” “Making you my good girl” “Cum until you cry and beg”

You blush as you look at the titles, skimming around tags and descriptions looking for whatever strikes your mood tonight. Heck, anything would be fine if it was him though, you swore you weren’t even into the whole daddy kink before you heard Morax but now…

Oh.

Well lucky you, he’d just uploaded something new a few hours ago, you were one of the first views… ever the fangirl, huh? You click on it as you subconsciously lick your lips. Gods, your body feels hot and needy already, knowing what’s to come.

“Daddy spoils your little pussy” reads the caption, and you place your phone by your side, lying down, propping your legs and closing your eyes.

Oh, oh my god. Your breath catches as the audio starts off right away with some lewd wet noises. Usually, Morax would sweet talk for a bit first to set the scene and mood, but you sure weren’t complaining!

Your heartbeat speeds up as your hands start rubbing at your legs and over your panties, just trying to get your body up to speed.

“Hmmm… oh, there you are sweetheart.” Gods. Morax’s voice. You already wanted to moan at the deep baritone vibrating in your ears. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

How ironic that you couldn’t sleep yourself.

His voice drags, sounds a little tired and hoarse, it just adds to it and you picture him kissing and dragging his tongue along your skin “You like that don’t you baby? Feeling my lips… tracing your hipbone like this. I can feel the goosebumps blooming along your skin.”

Oh goosebumps alright, you shiver as you rub at your skin a little impatient, how you wish you really had his lips worshipping you right now.

“You don’t even have to do anything, you can even just go back to sleep, if you’d like.” He chuckles. “But daddy just needed you, he needed his… hmm… sweet babygirl.”

“Hng Morax yes… need you too, daddy.” You whisper softly, already shifting on the sheets.

He continues to kiss and whisper sweet nothings about how he wants to make you feel good, kiss you and pamper you and make you relax, and you melt. His soft breathing and wet sucking and kissing noises turning you on instantly.

“Alright sweetie let’s take these panties off.” There’s a slight rustle of fabric in the audio as you quickly strip off your own underwear along. “That’s a good girl. Hmm… look at your sweet little pussy, already wet and swollen for me.” He groans and you whimper and buck your hips.

“Oh god please…” You’re so keyed up already. Morax simply has that effect on you, and you wish he would hurry so you can start touching where you most need it.

“Hmm… just relax sweetheart. Lie down and let daddy take care of you… of your cute little pussy.” More erotic noises follow as you picture him slowly going down and down until he kisses and licks at your folds. “Oh, that tickles sweetie?” Another sinful chuckle.

His voice, his voice was just so good. You’d wondered many times what kind of man would have such a deep hypnotizing voice. Surely he was older, but maybe not quite a silver fox. Dark hair, maybe? A large frame, broad shoulders, lean muscles but still elegant, a proper gentleman to go with his personality.

You knew he had golden eyes, that was a fact. Well, at least what he’d mentioned in a couple of scenes, it could very well be a lie but you wanted to believe in that mysterious domineering golden glow, staring up at you like molten heat from above you or between your legs.

Morax’s voice keeps feeding your fantasy, commenting how wet you are, how your body twitches, how he drags, slow and languid around your hole and oh, it’s like your body responds exactly the way he wants, guided by him.

“Darling, let me just… hmm… suck on your cute little clit like this.”

“Ah!”

A shock of pleasure runs trough your veins as you start rubbing on the little nub. His voice muffled, moaning as he sucks and licks and sighs deeply, clearly enjoying this.

“So sweet, so good for me. Oh, it makes daddy just ache for you sweetheart.”  

You want Morax’s cock in you yesterday.

His voice turns breathy and strained, the noises and tension intensifying as you rub faster, legs shaking, your breath coming out in gasps to match his, back arching off the bed. It’s all so good, his praise, his dirty words, his gasps, his moans.

“Come on sweetie, I know you want my big cock but first… hng… first daddy wants you to cum hah… do that for me princess? Come for daddy, come on.”

“F-fuck… fuck… hnnng” You mewl. “M-Morax…”

“I got you darling I’m right here, you can cum baby I want to taste you.”

“Ah A-Ah!” Your mouth parts into a silent scream and your whole body tenses and shudders, pleasure buzzing in your veins and under your flushed sweaty skin. Your juices spill against your hand but you imagine them wetting his chin as his voice groans and moans in your ears. You picture those half-lidded sultry golden eyes glowering at you.

“That’s a very good girl…” He chuckles, and your hazy mind can picture him nuzzling at your inner thighs. “Now, now get ready babygirl, give me your legs like this.” A noise of sheets shifting registers in your brain “Around my shoulder and let me just… hng… stroke my big cock ready for you.”

Oh you were floating, your head was spinning, you parted your legs, following his every command, fingers still rubbing at your oversensitive folds to simulate whatever he was doing. You moan at the slick jerking sound and vaguely lament not having something to fill you up as he would.

“Hmm… we’re just getting started, my dear.” He hisses.

The night was long and the audio not even halfway…

———————————————————–

Even though you ended up going to sleep way past any reasonable time you didn’t really feel tired. In fact, you slept wonderfully, warm and sated. And so, you headed up to class with a carefree skip and bright smile, excited to see what this new day and new year would bring you.

The classroom was rather big but looked pretty empty even though the professor was already there, you slid into one of the front seats and quickly checked the time. You weren’t late or anything, he was just… punctual and early, it seems. Which is more than can be said by the majority of the students… if they are even coming to the class.

Some general studies were mandatory classes, though you’d only had to take a couple courses before moving to subjects more in line with your chosen career. But for now, seems like you had to deal with… history.

The professor was, well… handsome, to be quite honest. And you found yourself quietly admiring him from afar. Prim and proper with long silky dark hair in a low ponytail, a perfectly neat and brown suit, and thin elegant glasses that only drew more attention to his striking gold eyes. Not a crease in sight, not a hair out of place.

He was rather meticulous it seems, with the way he organized his material, checking the time before starting the class on the dot.

“Greetings everyone, my name is Zhongli.” He smiles warmly. “I believe a welcome in is order as this is your first day of college, a new stage of your life.”

No way.

Absolutely no fucking way.

His voice…

“Seems like you’re stuck with me for your very first class.” He chuckles.

Low and deep and velvet.

Oh, you know that exact same sound.

Your eyes widen.

Oh shit.

Mr. Zhongli is Morax…

“Let’s hope this year shall be a good and prosperous one, hm?”

#genshin smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #crys writes #fem reader #professor zhongli #SIKE did you like that lil plot twist at the end??? #lmao it was hella obvious but I still didn't wanna ruin it from the start by putting it in the title #idk how to tag cw #LISTEN #ZHONGLI'S VOICE IS PURE SIN I CANNOT #SCREAMING AT MY OWN WRITING #MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA FOR A FOLLOW UP ALREADY HMMMMMM

[sapp-fic]

“vulnerable” | robin buckley

summary: robin gets her period and steve helps her deal with the pain (once he gets over being a dumbass)

tags: platonic stobin, robin buckley

a/n: hiii!! i stole this fic from my own ao3 to get this account going, so you can read it here on ao3 aswell.

Scoops Ahoy was close to being completely full, the line was out the door and on top of everything, Robin felt off. She knew she didn’t have time to dwell on her pains and whatnots so she tried to put her busy-ness to use and distract herself.

Steve, on the other hand, felt great. Getting all these customers meant more tips and more flirting opportunities. His eyes flicked back and forth between the line and the ice cream and measured roughly how many people it would take to finish it off. He craned his neck to see behind him while simultaneously scooping the front customers ice-cream (a middle aged man was not quite the flirting opportunity he’d be into) and noticed Robin holding her stomach discreetly under the counter.

Robin, however, did not know she was doing that - and assumed if the pain wasn’t at the front of her mind then it had gone. Subconsciously, she pressed harder, until it wasn’t so subconscious anymore. Shit. She knew this pain. She knew it like the back of her hand - how had she not have known before (or why had she ignored it, even). And she definitely did not have time to deal with this. There was a literal line up of people depending on her… to serve them ice cream, which she understood was not the most important thing ever, or that she’d ever done, but she didn’t want to cause a fuss.

Steve leant on the counter waiting for the next customer who did not take very long at all. Together, him and Robin could clear this 45 minutes - give or take - but Robin didn’t look like she could last 45 minutes. To Steve, she looked paler than usual and vulnerable. But what did he know, he didn’t even know she was a lesbian for gods sake.

“You okay over there, Robin?” he asked in the least sorry voice he could.

“Fine.”

Well, that’s new.

“You sure?” he masked his concern.

“I said I’m fine, Steve.”

He almost told her she wasn’t. He almost said that she looked unwell. He almost unmasked his concern. But he didn’t.

She did. With not a single thought, she was running. And crying.

That’s new.

Entering the first stall available, she realised how much pain she was in. The cold tiles comforted the muscles in her back, but her stomach stabbed at her.

Back in the shop, Steve was frozen. He went to run with her, but the line. The goddamn line. He needed a break. He picked up the megaphone Dustin had given him for his birthday which he carried everywhere now.

“Scoops Ahoy will be sailing again in 10 minutes.”

“What?” a confused voice from the crowd said.

“No more ice cream for 10 minutes.”

The disappointed and disapproving murmurs from the crowd hummed as he tore off his apron and headed for the bathrooms. He had no idea what he was going to do, but Robin was obviously not okay and being her best friend, he needed to help her.

“Robin?” The door burst open just in time to hear her vomit in the toilet. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

She fixed herself and explained how she was ‘obviously not fine’ in a mocking tone.

“Yeah, I see that. Goddamn, Buckley.”

Another wave of pain shot her whole body. She curled over into a ball.

“Shit, do I need to take you to the hospital?” Steve was clueless.

“No, no, I just need some painkillers”

“You sure, I mean, you seem-“

She just glared at him.

“Fine, fine, painkillers it is. But if you’re still in this much pain…”

“I won’t be,” she ushered him to hurry “just go.”

Steve walked to the nearest drug store and bought the medicine in quite a rush. He has two ticking time bombs - the customers and Robin. But Robin was more important to him.

He got back just in time to hear Robin throwing up again. “Deja Vu.” He knelt down rubbing her back and handing her the pills and a bottle of water.

Robin coughed and fixed herself as she thanked him almost silently. She took the pill and collapsed her body back against the floor. “Fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Clearly”

“Right…” he half laughed. “What do you thinks wrong?”

“Are you seriously that dumb, Steve.”

He just blankly stared.

“I’m…” She almost expected him to fill in the gaps. “…having my…” Nothing. It was getting embarrassing. “period?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t go all weird on me, Harrington, it’s normal.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” he felt accused. “Why would you say that!”

Robin felt a smile curve on her face, but as soon as it was coming, it was going. Steve held her hair back while she held her stomach.

“Right, you’re going home.”

“No, Steve, seriously,” she fixed herself. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Stop talking and get in my car.”

“Don’t we have a job to do?”

“Screw that, look at you.”

She started to get up and winced. Steve carried her to his car, and while she was super embarrassed about being carried in front of a mall full of people she knew, she felt it was kind of sweet, and maybe the only way she could actually leave that bathroom.

“Thank you.” Robin didn’t like being vulnerable, but this was kind of unavoidable now. She was just glad Steve was Steve and not anyone else.

#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fic #robin buckley fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #sickfic #period fic #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin friendship #stobin fanfic

[malinaa]

TOP 9 BOOKS

tagged : @hmsharmony ty jennifer this was SOOO hard oh my god like. genuinely agonized me for days to think about what to choose but it was SOOO fun tho <3 tagging : @rosesau | @evcndiaz | @pendrgcn | @gayarthur | @the-tenth-arcanum | @oretsev | @wherepoetsdie | @bellamyblakru | @ryekat & anyone else who wants to do it !!! rules : list your top 9 books obviously. i cheated a little and put series as as one option because that's just who i am as a person. most of these i chose at random from my 5 star reads from the past few years btw

1. percy jackson and the olympians (series) by rick riordan

i was never a big reader in elementary school—or at least not to the extent that my classmates had been. my sixth grade english class required us to bring a personal book from home for silent reading and i stole my brother's spine-cracked copies of pjo and brought them to class. i finished the whole series in less than a school week (i had to scramble to the library to pick up another series because the single novel should have lasted me at least three weeks). pjo literally kickstarted my love for reading as a hobby and i truly don't know how to state the importance it had on my little ten-year-old brain fr

2. on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

i have never read a book more beautiful in prose and so uncommonly human than this. there's just something so incredibly heartbreaking knowing this whole book is the narrator's letter to his mother who can't read! like what the fuck

3. alone with you in the ether by olivie blake

this came as a surprise to Me when i first read it. i meandered through the first quarter, loving the writing style but feeling disconnected from the characters until the Church Hand Scene™ and it was hook, line, and sinker at that point (i have since come to love the disconnectedness in subsequent rereads, knowing that the feeling was the Point). i have read this book four (4) times since i read it first last year. LAST YEAR!!! olivie has like... fundamentally altered my brain chemistry or something because i feel like everything i have written since having read this book has been somewhat influenced by it.

4. much ado about nothing by william shakespeare

what can i say! this is theeeeeee romcom ever. i have watched so many adaptations of this play, read it countless of times and can recite some iconic lines, and still the banter between benedick and beatrice is sooo elite. cannot be topped!!

5. a place for us by fatima farheen mirza

fun fact: seed rec'd this book to me and has been reccing it to anybody who would listen. the prose is so lush and melancholic. it's one of those books where nothing Really happens, but you feel Every Emotion Under The Sun and you're just like. altered by reading it

6. the song of achilles by madeline miller

obviously.... OBVIOUSLYYYYYYY this had to go here. if i had two nickels for every greek myth retelling i read during school that fundamentally changed me etc etc u get it. i read this as a junior in high school when we, yet again, had to bring a personal book to read durin class. i think at that point of my life, i've never read something that tragic yet so beautiful at the same time and now i am always looking at the beautiful and tragic in media. so! there u go! brain cells rewired and whatnot!

7. the grisha trilogy by leigh bardugo

this is funny because i . technically did not rate any of these books 5 stars i'm sobbing. but like, considering the fact that my url is what it is and the way i always have them in the back of my mind, it's no wonder that i put them here. i have such an odd attachment to these books and these characters. i had copies of these books since their release but didn't touch them until ... before the sab tv release which is so fucking funny. like i don't know what i would be like if i read this as a t(w)een. i would've been so fucking insufferable ngl

8. when my brother was an aztec by natalie diaz

i actually read this for an assignment and had to write a report on it and i had SO much fun doing it. diaz plays a lot with hunger and her imagery is literally unmatched. i think about the way she contructs sentences and am filled with such envy. my beginning sentence for my paper was a nod to her style (though i failed miserably). it was: "in a paradoxical sleight of hand, hunger feeds in natalie diaz's debut." she is just. so fucking good at words i need to CHOMP on it

9. sharp objects by gillian flynn

you know the thing where you see a really popular author for a really long time and they have their work adapted to the screen and it's so good but you still haven't read their actual writing? yeah, that was me with gillian flynn (specifically about gone girl). i read gone girl, i read sharp objects, i read her short story the grownup, i'm currently reading the last novel of hers that i haven't read, dark places, and flynn is just so... incredibly good at constructing harrowing stories. it's no wonder why all three of her novels got adapted to the screen! her prose is so grounded. vivid. there's this ease to her writing that, whenever i concurrently read another novel, i always find the other piece to be lacking. i slink back to flynn's prose and immerse myself in her awful, human worlds.

#tag games #book recs #text #tais toi lys

[professor-walten]

just a seventeen year old forced to save the world, again, you know how it is.

he/him only, don't let the tits fool you ✨

Lee's my real dad lol. If I ever say "dad" I mean Lee.

Owner of Motostoke's one and only Hop Walten Labs. Ireland's Pokémon researcher, rescuer, rehabilitator, and releaser. Giving every Pokémon a chance is my job and passion. I am a Pokémon rights activist and I believe in league abolition. You would know if you read my book. Nobody in Galar really has. Legally classified as a "shiny hunter," but it's just conservation efforts

Callaghan Psychics know all of the known universe. Not other universes, I guess. That's kind of why I'm here? The multiverse kinda needs us atm

DID system. There are ten of us here if that matters to you. If you want to ask questions about it take this guide. Not being specific on ages because like none of us are normal humans lol

🌨️ - Tori, she/her, adult | 🌌 - Janus, thon/thonself (they/them if that's difficult), adult | 🐐 - Tobey, he/they, teen | ⚾ - Marcello, he/him, teen(adult) | 🪙 - Auryn, he/him, adult | 🍀 - Ryan, he/him, adult | 🔥 - Rin, he/she/they, adult | 🐉 - Zabi(maru), she/he, teen(adult) | 👻 - Aoife, she/her, child

And me of course -(🐏)

The fate rests in the balance of a bunch of mentally unstable children. It always has, huh? My work is important to me, and so is understanding the multiverse, so you can always give asks about either. Cool 👍

[ooc under the cut :3]

pfp is a gift from bunnyhasaknife on instagram

disclaimer banner art is commissioned from littlebumblebe9

account banner is just dubwool from the anime

EDIT FOR CLARITY: The start of PULT takes place 3 and 1/2 years after the events of Pokémon Sword and Shield. Everything about the games is history. Leon isn't the champion, Hop is a professor, etc etc. Keep it in mind

EDIT 2: this will generally be lighthearted but the lore for hop in PULT is quite serious to certain topics like drugs miiiight end up being brought up. I'll tag each post with (tw __" so you can block it if you need to

HI, I'M HOP! Yes, my actual name is Hop too. He/him for admin as well. I've been wanting to make one of these for ages but only just now got the balls lolz. A little rotomblr/rotumblr based on my characterization of Hop for my Pokémon AU I've been working really hard to write, Pokémon Unown Legends Tale!! Read about it on my main @irlkisukeurahara I have a tag for it. I don't want to post it officially until the Unova book is done so I can provide weekly updates, so for now I wanted to make a little RP thing for it to kinda get people interested I guess

This blog 100% will spoil some aspects of it but I mean whaddya gonna do. I won't spoil major plot beats.

This is mostly just shitposting and talking about my character lore because I'm really attached to it. Having roleplays with stakes is fine but for the most part this is just silly behavior

Since the multiverse is canon in PULT I love the idea of other Hops/professor Hops/literally anyone interacting here and whatnot!! Who gives a shit about doubles I'm here to be silly

No explicit NSFW, sexual or self sexualizing jokes r fine but propositions or shit like that are obviously not

Hop has a bunch of ships in this universe (polyamory not a gay harem anime) - two OCs + two canons + one of his alters. Feel free to ask about em lol

The ships: Bede, Arven, Miles, Nico, Marcello

Feel free to ask DID questions here in or out of character, I just make Hop like this because I have DID too lol

I might say "fag" once or twice but otherwise no slurs plzplzplz but swearing is obviously fine because I will do it A LOTTT

If this gets any traction I'll make Leon and Arven accounts too

Pokémon teams: (some characters share Pokémon)

✨ = shiny

Hop

Doesn't have a full team because he isn't a trainer but his 3 main Pokémon are

Dubwool ♂️, elderly Pokémon he got from Leon as a birthday gift at 3, can use Electro Ball like a god

Azumarill ♀️, a chipper girl who saved his life

[✨] Saakash/Spoons (Alakazam) ♂️, reincarnated dead 7 year old boy with a major attitude problem, Hop's half brother (yeah.)

Tori

[✨] Kurama (Alolan Ninetales) ♂️

[✨] Toshiro (Glaceon) ♀️

[✨] Ryu (Kommo-o) ♂️

[✨] Ravenmore (Umbreon) ♀️

[✨] Saakash (Spoons) ♂️

[✨] Yukina (Froslass) ♀️

Janus

Cruinne (Cosmalenia) [Fakemon] ♀️

Supernova (Metagross) ♂️

[✨] Saakash (Alakazam) ♂️

[✨] Ravenmore (Umbreon) ♀️

[✨] Cosmo (Espeon) ♀️

Rukia (Clefable) ♀️

Marcello

Bucky (Crobat) ♂️

Doomshell (Cloyster) ♂️

Thunderstrike (Electrode) ♂️

Furyblade (Scizor) ♂️

Kickzilla (Hitmonlee) ♂️

Velvet Vogue (Lopunny) ♂️

Auryn

[✨] Goldbricker (Steelix) ♂️

Crypto (Gholdengo)

Ponzi (Corviknight) ♂️

[nickname incoming] (Alolan Raticate) ♂️

[nickname incoming] (Scrafty) ♂️

[nickname incoming] (Honchcrow) ♂️

Ryan

[✨] Kagome (Clefable) ♀️

Hawkeye (Decidueye) ♂️

Luffy (Infernape) ♂️

Aizen (Malamar) ♂️

[nickname incoming] (Weavile) ♂️

[✨] Kisuke (Mimikyu) ♂️

Rin

Sesshomaru (Houndoom) ♂️

[✨] Shippo (Ninetales) ♂️

Hashira (Blaziken) ♂️

[✨] Val (Delphox) ♀️

[half shiny] Usagi (Cinderace) ♀️

Helios (Volcarona) ♂️

Zabimaru

Hihiou (Vaporeon) ♀️

Nozarashi (Haxorus) ♀️

[✨] Hiei (Hydriegon) ♂️

Kommo-o ♂️

Harley (Garchomp) ♀️

[✨]Shenron (Dragonite) ♂️

Aoife

[✨] Kisuke (Mimikyu) ♂️

[✨] Seanchaí (Spiritomb) ♂️

Fomorian (Golurk)

Shadow (Hisuian Typhlosion) ♂️

Morrigan (Gengar) ♀️

Caelum (Cursola) ♀️

#pinned post #professor hop #rotomblr #rotumblr #pokeblr #pkmn irl #pkmn rp #pokemon irl #pokemon roleplay #pokeblogging #pokeblog rp #Pokemon Unown Legends Tale

[magicshopaholic]

Monza (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: You're in a pickle and, unfortunately, your ex-boyfriend is the only one around to help.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 8.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, heartbreak, injury, anxiety

A/N: Set approximately two months after In Time. The sarcasm is off the charts in this one so proceed with caution. Credits to the loveliest beta readers @meirkive and @jeoniius: thank you so so much Mei and Tannie for the feedback and the reactions <3

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

Listen to: “100 words” by prateek kuhad

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

There are bad people in this world. Terrible people, selfish people. There are people who head the most evil corporations in the world, taking money from hard workers and polluting the world; people who don’t believe in basic forms of human equality; and then the obviously terrible people - your serial killers and whatnot.

As she sneaks out of the idyllic bungalow in Monza at six am, Dilara reflects on this, and the fact that she was certainly one of these people in a past life. Maybe she killed someone. Maybe she started a war that killed many someones. She’d definitely done something, because as far as she’s concerned, it remains the only logical explanation for why she’s being forced to live, work and breathe in the same air space as her estranged ex-boyfriend.

It’s been less than two weeks since this ridiculous arrangement has been in motion. After the disastrous meeting in Yeongam, where she’d been ambushed with the news of this marketing plan, she’d gone to Seoul with her friends and proceeded to be the worst travel companion on earth. There had just been the race in Hungary after that before the month-long summer break had begun, and she’d scurried back to London to wrap herself in a blanket and wallow over her own bad luck.

For the first three weeks, she’d tried to block out any and every thought about the band and the impending arrangement, but the multiple discussions around logistics and travel made that impossible. She’d even tried her best to get out of it; she’d called Christian with a week to go, panicking at how close it was, nonchalantly mentioning if it wouldn’t be better that she could live close to the paddock, just to be safe.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be in the usual motorhome for most races,” he’d reassured her, as a dog barked in the background. “Take the win, Dilara. You get to live in the fanciest houses money can rent for the rest of the time.”

She didn’t know how to tell him that as the smallest driver on the grid, living in a luxury motorhome that’s bigger than many apartments was really not a problem for her. In fact, she’d be okay living in a secondhand car over sharing a fancy chalet with BTS, but the words died in her throat when he, once again, brought up just how important this was for Red Bull.

The first race after the summer break was in Belgium, last week. Spa-Francorchamps was a beautiful circuit, one of her favourites, set in the hills with the addictive air of excitement at the season resuming. However, she’d been able to enjoy none of that, having been asked to arrive on Wednesday for PR, four days before the actual race.

It had been hell. While Spa, as it turned out, was one of the locations where she’d thankfully been assigned a motorhome of her own near the circuit, it was still less than half a block away from the house BTS was staying at. She’d done everything in her power to ignore them entirely until she’d had no choice but to acknowledge them once the cameras had started rolling.

Max had been with her, fortunately, but it still didn’t dim the presence of all seven of them, particularly V, who seemed to be actively manoeuvring situations to try and talk to her. She couldn’t believe the audacity of him, which spurred her even more to try and avoid them at all costs, despite living in their backyard.

After Spa, Dilara had been asked to fly with them to Italy, for the next race in Monza. She’d ensured her cell phone, earphones and tablet were all fully charged, along with keeping two novels, her Kindle, and a bottle of sleeping pills to knock her out if none of the other tactics to ignore them worked.

A legendary race, Monza; she’d been hoping that this weekend, at least, BTS would not be the focus. Vicki, Red Bull’s press officer, had texted her the schedule on Wednesday; to her immense relief, there actually wasn’t any PR to do with BTS - or nothing that she had to do anyway. The group was still in Monza for press, but she was thankfully kept out of it.

However, this was also one of the locations where her motorhome would not be functional. Given how small the town is, even the hotels were not approved by Big Hit for their precious idols, and she’d found herself being graciously offered a bedroom in a fancy bungalow located fifteen minutes away from the track, with BTS and Max as her roommates.

It hadn’t occurred to her until then, amidst the haze of heartbreak and fury, that underneath everything, Dilara actually liked those guys. Despite everything her ex had pulled, the rest of them remained… nice, even if she was reminded every now and then that they were and always would be on his side. They weren’t forcing her to talk to them, but they weren’t ignoring her either. Of course, the scope for either was low, for she avoided staying inside as much as she could, returning only to sleep and use the gym.

The only time she’d attempted anything else had been yesterday afternoon, a bright Thursday, when her hunger had overtaken her humiliation, and she’d ventured into the kitchen to try and put together some semblance of a meal. So far, since Lexie hadn’t been able to join her due to a family emergency, Dilara had been surviving on microwavable salads and energy bars. Yesterday, though… she’d been starving and Monza had failed her when it came to food.

As it turned out, all it took to finally acknowledge one of the members outside of work was an attempt at cooking. One burnt egg and an overturned frying pan later, she’d found herself sitting at the kitchen island in silence while Seokjin made her a sandwich, tactfully leaving her to eat it alone.

He’d asked if she wanted to join them, though. She’d hesitated for a fraction of a second and glanced out of the window into the backyard, where the rest of them laughed and slurped ramen. The sight had made her feel incredibly lonely, and she’d simply swallowed and shook her head, quietly thanking him before retiring into her room.

However, even the first nice exchange she has with a band member can’t do much to improve her overall situation. She’s still avoiding them, her chest still hurts being in their presence, and the crushing humiliation still exists to the point where she can’t bring herself to look them in the eye.

On Friday morning, Dilara has had enough. Even yesterday at the paddock was painful at best; a few organisers from the Italian GP team actually came over to the garage to meet the band, gushing and going on about what an honour it was to have them on the paddock. The band responded graciously, thanking Red Bull for their hospitality and whatnot, while Dilara stood in the corner and tried not to throw up.

She leaves the house at six am. Since it’s free practice day, she figures she should ideally do nothing but some basic cardio to pump her up for the rest of the day. If there’s one thing the village of Monza has, it’s good weather; with nothing but her phone and earphones, she heads out for a run.

It’s a nice, empty path she runs along, and the quiet is refreshing because try as she might to avoid the band in the house, one thing she can’t get away from is their noise. They aren’t bad roommates per se, but as musicians, they have a tendency to keep playing music and singing… a lot. There have even been moments when she’s heard Jungkook or Jimin’s voices absently sing something and it’s taken her a few moments to remember that she’s supposed to hate it. When she’d heard V singing in the kitchen one time, though, she’d turned up the music in her own room until it had drowned out his horrendously hypnotic voice.

Now, as she’s running, she hears a beep amidst the playlist she has going on. She realises what it means belatedly; all of a sudden, the music stops and she groans, for she’s sure she’d charged her earphones last night. When she checks her phone, however, she realises that while she did charge her earphones, she forgot entirely about her phone.

It’s the icing on the cake. All of a sudden, she starts crying - no, sobbing. She flops down on an empty bench and covers her face with her hands, crying out every single emotion, the constant heaviness of being around the band all the time and generally just how unfair the world is for making her go through this. It’s a reasonably long self-pity session and she’s sure any remaining kohl from yesterday has now been successfully smudged, making her face an attractive and splotchy mess. 

Dilara stands up, her legs slightly wobbly, and starts slowly jogging again. She passes a small self-serve gas station and ducks through a short stretch of brambles into a blind turn, just catching a horrified face and the sound of an engine revving before she feels the wind knocked out of her and loses her balance. She feels her head hit the ground and her phone tumble out of her hand onto the road and she winces, hoping the screen hasn’t shattered. It’s only when the engine stops and a male voice starts worriedly cursing in Italian that she realises she’s been hit.

She tries to stand and lets out a gasp; a stab of pain shoots through her left ankle. She swears, an unfamiliar sense of fear going through her, realising that if she’s injured, she can’t drive today. “No, no, no…” she mutters, biting her lip and trying not to cry. A hand is placed on her shoulder.

“Scusa, scusami tanto! Mi dispiace!” 

Dilara looks up, brushing her bangs out of her eyes to see a Caucasian man - no, a boy, who literally can’t be older than fifteen, peering down at her. His blue eyes are wide and he looks afraid. He continues blubbering, his voice clearly still going through puberty, cheeks red with worry and shame.

The moment he sees her face, though, he suddenly frowns. “Komyshan?” he asks, sounding partly shocked and partly starstruck. “Sei Dilara Komyshan? Red Bull?” When she nods and raises a hand for him to help her up, he suddenly lets go and looks truly terrified, before picking up his Vespa and driving away.

“What the -” She can’t believe this. “Hey! Help me! Aiutami!” But the fucker doesn’t stop. She sees his stupid blue vehicle disappear behind a turn, guessing he’s a kid who took an adult’s bike out without permission. She doesn’t know if he thought she��d snitch on him to his mum or something; either way, she’s stranded in the middle of nowhere with an injured ankle.

She struggles and gets onto her knees before crawling up to her phone, ready to call for help, when she remembers it’s out of charge. Trying hard to ignore the rising panic, she crawls across the rest of the street and sits on the pavement next to the gas station, panting from the run, the shock and the pain. She doesn’t have any choice but to wait for someone. She looks around for a payphone when she realises she has no money, cursing the picturesque towns of Europe for being so sparsely populated.

Finally, some fifteen minutes later, a small car pulls into the gas station and starts filling it up. Dilara can’t walk so she waves, and a dark-haired woman in a beret notices her. When she starts walking up to her, she sighs in relief. 

“Lei parla inglese? Do you speak English?” Dilara asks hopefully.

“Si, I do,” she nods, noticing her situation now. “Are you hurt?”

“Um, yes.” Dilara realises the woman doesn’t recognise her, and she can’t help but be glad. “Can I - can I please use your phone to call a friend? Mine’s dead.”

She nods and hands over her iPhone, the screen already on the keypad. As she heads away to bring her car out front and Dilara’s about to start typing, she realises she doesn’t know Max’s number. In any case, he hadn’t even slept at the house last night, staying instead at a friend’s. In fact, apart from her mother’s, there’s only one phone number in the whole world that she has memorised. Her heart thuds against her ribcage when she realises she still remembers it.

Thumb paused over the screen, Dilara takes a deep breath, concentrating on the pain in her ankle, making sure it’s bad enough that she really needs to resort to this. Finally, she types out the number and holds the phone to her ear, holding her breath and half-hoping he doesn’t pick up.

After three rings, he answers. “Yeoboseyo?” His voice sounds unsure, and she knows it’s because it’s a call from an unknown number. She lets out a shaky breath, her throat suddenly tight. “Hello?” he repeats, before something seems to click. “Lara?”

The moment he says the name, Dilara hangs up, suddenly certain that she would rather be found dead at this gas station than turn to him for help. She turns to the Italian woman who drives up to her in her car. “Grazie,” she tells her, handing her back the phone.

“Did you call your friend?” she asks, frowning and taking it back. “I can drop you?”

As much as Dilara would like to take her up on the offer, she knows she can’t take someone back to where BTS lives. She can’t stand them right now, but she knows she can’t do this. Besides, the last thing she needs is for their location to get leaked and for Big Hit to panic and ship them all off to some remote island somewhere. 

“That’s okay,” says Dilara, smiling tightly. “My - my friend should be here soon,” she lies, trying not to panic at how she’s ever going to get back home. “Do you - do you think you could lend me a charger? I’ll send it back to your house.”

She shakes her head apologetically and Dilara’s heart sinks. “Don’t have one, sorry.” After offering one more time to drop her back, she drives away. Watching the black car disappear, Dilara swallows. She looks back at the gas station, hoping to see someone, anyone, maybe a payphone, maybe Max’s car magically passing by…

She starts to feel dizzy soon. She hasn’t had caffeine or anything to eat, and it just occurs to her once again that today is free practice day. She calculates that she probably has around four hours at best before she needs to be at the paddock and she suddenly begins to regret hanging up on V when she realises she could be stranded here for hours before anyone finds her.

She closes her eyes and lies back on the pavement, groaning when her head throbs slightly. She imagines someone finding her, and Italian headlines looking ridiculous when they report a Formula 1 driver found with a twisted ankle on some random street in Monza. She squeezes her eyes shut when the sun comes out from behind a cloud, just when she hears the unmistakable sound of a car.

Max max max super max max… The annoying fan chant plays in her head as she sits up, hardly daring to hope that it is indeed him, returning from whatever friend’s house he was staying at. When she sees an unfamiliar black car approaching, though, she frowns… until it gets closer and her heart stops when she sees who’s driving.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Dilara’s gorgeous ex-boyfriend, dressed in a grey hoodie with black joggers, and literally the last person she wants to see, hops out of the car and rushes to her side. She hates how her heart leaps in relief, partly because someone’s found her, partly because it’s not a random rapist or murderer… and partly because of the familiar scent of lotion.

“I’m -” She’s about to say fine, but it’s fairly clear she isn’t. “My ankle,” she says in a slightly strangled voice, adjusting her position so she’s sitting a little straighter.

His fingers ghost over her skin but he hesitates, clearly not wanting to put any pressure on the joint. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He cranes his neck to peer up at her while she deliberately avoids his eyes and shakes her head. “Wait, is that -” His hand brushes her bangs back and she shivers; he doesn’t notice as he retrieves his hand with wide eyes. “Lara, you’re bleeding.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, pretending not to notice how his face falls, and reaching for the same spot on her forehead to feel the sticky blood that, until now, she thought was just sweat. “How did you find me?” she finally asks him when the silence becomes too much.

“I called the number back,” he mutters, going back to examining her ankle. His blond hair, messy and unbrushed, looking darker and longer than she remembers, falls gracefully down the sides of his face, hiding his expression from her. “A woman picked up and said some girl with long black hair injured herself at a gas station. Said she’d already called a friend,” he adds, now looking up at Dilara with narrowed eyes, and she can detect a hint of reproach in his tone. 

She glares back defiantly, and for a moment she forgets the larger reason she’s not speaking to him.

“I need to get back to the house,” she states, refusing to ask for his help outright. “I have practice today…” She remembers, and she knows he can sense the worry in her voice. "Actually, I should go straight to the paddock - I need medical clearance. I don't have my stuff with me, though," she matters, mostly talking to herself at this point.

“Come on,” he says, sounding gentler. Without invitation, he reaches around her and helps her stand up, his right arm resting securely just above her waist and his left hand clutching hers, steady as a rock as he helps her limp back to the car. She tries to ignore how her heart speeds up at his touch. There’s nothing sexual about it, but the familiarity and security of it is so overwhelming that she finds herself leaning into him slightly, suddenly so relieved that he’s here - although she wouldn’t admit that to him in a million years.

When he opens the door and helps her in, her foot accidentally touches the doorframe and she gasps in pain, squeezing his hand automatically. “Fuck,” she mutters when she finally settles into the seat, already exhausted, and V helps her pick up her leg and move it inside.

“Is it fine?” he asks, looking up at her. His wide eyes make her heart stutter unexpectedly and she simply nods, looking away. He closes the door and climbs in from the other side, checking on her once more before starting the car and reversing. The stereo starts automatically and when Don't Know Why by Norah Jones starts playing from the middle of the second verse, she scoffs without meaning to. His hand appears from next to her and immediately turns off the music, and she can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

“What was your plan?”

Part of her can’t believe he has the nerve to make conversation. The other part is just afraid that if she engages, she'll start crying. But she can detect a mild annoyance in his voice, which immediately riles her up for if he didn’t want to come, there was nothing making him. “Excuse me?”

“Your plan,” he repeats. “You hung up on me and you’ve never fully charged your phone in all the time I’ve known you so I’m guessing it’s dead,” he adds, and her heart skips a sad beat at how casually he’s referencing the past. “So how were you planning to get back to the house?”

It’s a good question with an answer she thankfully did not need to think about since he arrived anyway, but she doesn’t want him to know that. “I was going to wait for someone else… and borrow a charger.”

“And this person was just going to wait for you while you charged your phone?”

“I was going to borrow it,” she explains snippily, not at all impressed at the accusatory tone in his voice. “And then probably… send it back.” When all he does is roll his eyes at what she imagines is her immense stupidity, she snaps. “You know, you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to. If I remember correctly, I didn’t even ask.”

All that does is make him sigh and shake his head, his tousled blond hair making him look like a modern prince on vacation. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

It’s infuriating. “Excuse me? I travel by myself all year, you know? I would’ve figured it out.”

“That’s a lot of talk coming from someone who injured herself in two places on a jog.”

“You think I tripped over my own two feet and split my forehead open? I’m an athlete,” she reminds him hotly. “I know how to fucking run, thank you very much. Jesus." Dilara scoffs. "Some idiot knocks me down with his bike and of course you think it’s my fault. I should've just asked that lady to drop me at the paddock,” she mutters snidely, realising at only this moment what a missed opportunity it was.

He ignores this dig and turns to look at her in shock. “What idiot? What bike?” he asks immediately, the car swerving slightly.

“Eyes on the road, please,” she says through gritted teeth, reaching over and straightening the wheel, her fingers brushing his. “And hell if I know. Some stupid kid on a Vespa knocked me down, recognised me, and scarpered for the fucking hills before I knew it.”

When V speaks again, he sounds livid. “Wait, he saw that you were hurt and still left you there?”

“Yeah. Maybe you two could start a club or something."

He sighs. “Dilara, I’m so sorry about -”

“Okay, no, just… forget I said anything, okay?” she interrupts, already regretting her words. She deliberately continues looking out the window and winces as the car turns and her ankle touches the side of the door.

“No, but I have to say this. I never meant to -”

“No.” She says it forcefully this time. “I don’t want to talk to you, especially not about this, alright? And you’re not going to use this situation to keep me hostage and make me listen to you when you know I can’t go anywhere.”

He falls silent. Then -

“Everything that happened in March was not -”

“What the fuck, Kim? I just said I don’t want to talk about this!”

He goes abruptly silent again. She tries to savour it but it doesn’t last nearly as long as she’d like it to.

“Did you just call me -” He doesn’t finish his sentence and doesn’t look at her either. She looks at him, however, silently daring him to ask. He doesn’t; he just looks out the windshield, knuckles white on the steering wheel while she rolls her eyes and looks away. They drive in silence until they reach the paddock.

“Is anyone even here this early?” he asks, unbuckling his belt. “It looks empty.”

“Yeah, it’s barely eight,” she mutters, unbuckling hers as well and moving to open the door. “But the medics are always here and they’re the ones who decide whether or not I can race on Sunday.” She turns to look at him uncomfortably, not sure if she should be thanking him or asking him for more help. “Anyway, I’m gonna -” She pushes open the car door with one hand and gives him an awkward wave.

He raises an eyebrow, looking like an arrogant burnout in a high school chick flick. “You’re going to get up there yourself?”

That same challenging tone is what does it. “That’s right. Goodbye.” She hops out gracelessly, hanging onto the doorframe and balancing on one foot. From behind her, she hears his door open and close.

"Dilara, how are you going to walk all the way in there?" he asks again, his amused yet concerned tone grating.

"I don't know, Kim. Why don't you go ask the idol you fucked?"

Without sparing him another glance, mostly so she doesn’t have to see his expression, she manages to limp her way to a fire hydrant at the entrance of the medical enclosure, even the slightest contact sending a shooting pain up her ankle. The distance can’t have been more than ten feet but even that’s taken her an exhausting minute. The actual medical room is much further ahead inside, up a flight of stairs… she closes her eyes, terrified to even touch her foot to the ground.

Dilara needs his help. She hates everything about it, she absolutely loathes it, but she needs him. She hopes desperately that after everything he’s done to her, he won’t humiliate her further by making her beg for his help while she's hurt. Ten seconds later, she hears the car beep, followed by a quiet “jinjja”, followed by quick footsteps before the same steady arm appears around her waist again and another grips her left hand.

“Come on,” he says softly, and he takes her inside, patient with her snail’s pace. She bites her lip, feeling more and more certain that she won’t be able to race on Sunday. The pain, coupled with the fact that the medics and the team always err on the side of caution, makes it frighteningly obvious. Twenty-five points… her face screws up as she swallows a sudden sob. Everything she worked so hard for this season could come completely undone because of a stupid, stupid mistake.

“Where does it hurt?” He lowers his head to look at her, and while her immediate response is where do you think?, she just doesn't have the energy to fight with him anymore. “Are you worried about the race?” he asks after a moment, quieter. 

She don’t know how he knows, but she's not nearly ready enough to open up to him about this. “Oh, shit,” she sighs defeatedly when they reach the foot of the stairs, trying somehow to gather enough courage to make it through what feels like her Everest. 

“Dilara -”

“Let’s go,” she interrupts, her heart jolting at the sound of her name, how the L sound is rounded… She takes the first step but finds that she has no idea what to do next. Her eyes start filling up with tears, realising that this is so much worse than she'd initially thought. Before she can think of what to do next, however, she feels an arm go under her thighs and her feet are suddenly swept off the ground. Her arms automatically go around his neck before she realises what’s happened.

“What do you think you’re -”

“You wait any longer and you’ll just make your injury worse,” he murmurs, interrupting her. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you. I’m…” He pauses before sighing quietly. “I can use both hands,” he says finally.

Dilara doesn’t say anything for a moment. “You being ambidextrous isn’t what I was thinking about,” she mutters, looking away but not arguing. His arms are strong and steady under her as strides up the stairs. She glances discreetly at his shoulders; they’re broader than she remembers. The thought makes her stomach flutter unexpectedly.

When the stairs finish, he gently lowers her, taking care to make sure she's steady before giving her his hand again so they can get to the medical room. The Italian doctor on call immediately recognises her and dives for her ankle, while an assistant puts her phone on charge so she can call Christian and inform him, should he have to start making decisions. The doctor asks her question upon question the entire time, though, until he finally deems it slightly sprained. 

“Can I still drive on Sunday, though?” Dilara asks, hearing the hope in her own voice.

He gives her a rather pitying look but before she can question him further, he frowns. “How did this happen? Did you injure yourself while running?”

“Not -”

At that moment, Christian Horner enters without invitation and, with one look at her foot which is elevated on a cushion, he turns to look at the doctor, face white as a sheet.

“How bad is it? Can she still drive?”

“We’re waiting for the X-ray,” says the doctor, taking off his gloves, “but I was just asking her how it happened.” Both men turn to look at her expectantly.

“I was - I was running, and -”

“This was a gym injury?” Christian interrupts, and she can’t help but hear reproach and reprimand in his voice already.

“No, not - not exactly -”

“She got hit by a Vespa.” All of them turn; Dilara had almost forgotten he was here at all. Even Christian, startled, jumps to see him standing near the door. “Someone hit her and drove off. She cut her head, too,” he adds, and the doctor seems to suddenly notice her forehead, brushing back her bangs to examine the cut.

Christian frowns. “Did you bring her back?” When V nods, he immediately shakes his hand. “Can’t thank you enough. She’s so lucky you were there.”

Thankfully, V doesn’t respond to this apart from a nod. As Christian and the doctor start talking, she continues looking up at him while he looks at the ground, as though respectfully staying out of the way. His tone when he interrupted Christian was… familiar, but she can’t tell why. It sounded like he was annoyed and normally, she would’ve assumed it was due to the fact that he was forced to pick her up and drive her and help her walk, but his words seemed… almost defensive? 

Suddenly, his eyes snap up to her. It startles her but she holds his gaze, not sure if she should be curious or thankful or what. Before it gets too intense, however, she hears Christian say her name.

“... want to press charges?”

Dilara doesn’t want to admit that she hasn't been paying attention. “I - against the Vespa person?” She shakes her head immediately. “Not really. I don’t even know the plate number or anything.”

“We can find that out,” says Christian. “But this was wrong. We can do it if you want.”

“It was a hit and run, dear,” says the doctor kindly. “You can get the person reported at the very least.”

“No, I - I mean, yes, I get it, but -” She swallows, feeling herself start to panic again, “I don’t care about that. I just want to know if I can drive tomorrow. Or even Sunday.”

Both men fall silent, Christian looking calculating. Then, he turns to V. “Thank you so much for your help today,” he says again. “I don’t know how we can thank you.”

“I’ve known Dilara for a while,” is all he says, face smooth and impassive, hands in the pockets of his joggers.

Christian nods. “However, we need to discuss some… internal matters, if you…” He trails off with a tilt of his head, indicating quite clearly what he means.

V gets it immediately. “Oh, of course,” he mutters, nodding. “I’ll…” He looks at her. “I’ll see you later.”

Dilara nods slowly, watching him leave out the door, suddenly registering the absence of the scent of lotion. Trying to ignore it, she turns back to Christian and the doctor, both of whom have already begun discussing what to do next.

“Okay, look, we need to wait for X-rays in any case to tell what can happen,” says the doctor after a while, applying a bandage to her forehead after having thoroughly cleaned it out, accompanied by a comment about her not being upfront about all her injuries. “And you, signora, need to rest.”

“I don’t -” But her words are ignored as she's helped onto a bed. The moment her bandaged foot touches the ground, she hisses, having forgotten how painful it is. 

“Si, and morphine,” says the doctor in his stride, brandishing a syringe that he taps and places in the crook of her elbow. “Flex,” he commands, and she clenches her fist, sighing when the pain dulls slowly.

“Alright, I think he’s right, Dilara,” says Christian, sounding business-like and tapping away on his phone already. “Get some sleep and I’ll let you know about Sunday…” He trails off, giving me a sympathetic look before patting her shoulder and heading out. She wants to ask him one last time what he thinks, whether she can drive, whether her ex-boyfriend is still out there… but her eyelids feel heavy and before she knows it, she's asleep.

When Dilara wakes up, for a moment she can’t remember where she is. When her eyes fall on her bandaged foot and she reaches up to feel her forehead, she remembers the hit, the car, the sprain… She looks around for her phone, finding it on the bedside table and instantly checks the time. Her heart thuds. It’s almost noon… Two and a half hours to FP1. 

She feels a hole opening in her stomach, a slow build-up of fear. She knew she wouldn’t be able to drive today no matter what, but the fact that no one woke her up means that there’s no news… which means she's probably not driving at all. She can’t see the doctor anywhere, but she can hear noise down in the paddock.

Dilara leans back against the pillow and notices something on the bedside table to her left, the one closer to the door. It’s a transparent Starbucks cup with something pink inside it. Without picking it up, she's pretty sure it’s the strawberry and banana muesli and yoghurt cup. Next to it is an iced black coffee, the condensation still sparkling on it in the sun through the window. She wonders if it’s Max or Daniel who’s sent it; it’s something she's had at the airport with both of them many times, but that would mean they know about her condition… and that they actually found a Starbucks in Monza.

The doctor’s assistant comes in then, a blond girl who’d helped Dilara charge her phone and dress her head wound. She notices her awake and her blue eyes widen.

“Hey, how do you feel?” she asks. Her accent is American and she looks vaguely familiar.

“Bit of a headache." Dilara answers hoarsely, before clearing her throat. “And famished,” she adds, hoping the girl will clue her in as to who sent the muesli, and if it’s actually for her.

She doesn’t disappoint. “Oh, well, your friend brought that for you a little while ago,” she says on cue, pointing to the cups. “Visiting hours don’t start till noon but he dropped that off, saying you hadn’t eaten anything all day.”

There’s something about the way she says it that makes Dilara doubt it’s Max Verstappen she’s talking about. “Um… which friend?” she asks casually, knowing that if it’s a driver, she would mention him by name.

She frowns, though. “Oh, um, he was wearing a grey hoodie… had blond hair. He looked, uh… he was...” She trails off and licks her lips, clearly trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Handsome?” Dilara guesses, waiting for her to confirm her suspicions.

The blond girl sighs, two pink spots appearing on her pale cheeks. “I think he was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my entire life," she says, a slight longing in her voice. "I didn’t know a man could look like that.”

“Yep, that’s him,” she mutters, her heart jolting weakly. She picks up the coffee gingerly; it’s still cold. She finds herself strangely calm with the knowledge that he’s probably not far… just in case she needs a ride back. After a sip, she realises it’s an iced Americano and she scoffs quietly; how could she forget the number of times they'd met with her holding two empty Starbucks cups?

The doctor arrives then and when she asks him the only question on her mind, he shakes his head slowly. Dilara's heart sinks, even though she'd somewhat expected it. Both he and the assistant leave after that, leaving her alone on the bed. She places the coffee back on the table, the constant chant of twenty-five points twenty-five points going on and on in her mind. 

The door opens a crack and for a moment she thinks it’s Christian, but the first sight of the dark blond hair wipes that image away. She looks at the clock on her phone to see it’s exactly noon.

“Hey.” His voice is deep and soft, almost a rasp. He enters cautiously, taking off his round black sunglasses. He’d worn the same ones in Suzuka… “How do you feel?”

Dilara shakes her head slightly, not trusting herself to speak. 

“Are you hungry?”

She looks up to see him glance at the muesli and yoghurt. She's about to say no when her stomach rumbles. “I don’t feel like eating,” she mumbles, before she realises that it probably sounds like she's being petty. She picks up the coffee and takes another sip, feeling a little better as the cold liquid hits her throat. “Where did you find a Starbucks? I didn’t see any near the house…”

He shrugs nonchalantly, hands still in his pockets. “There’s one around here,” he says vaguely.

She nods. “Was it far?” she asks, only partly to distract herself.

He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no. About fifteen minutes,” he answers after a moment.

She nods and take another sip, feeling a lump in her throat as she tries to think of something else to ask - but she doesn’t know how to talk to him anymore, and she doesn’t know if it’s harder to pretend she can make it through this weekend or to pretend it’s not affecting her that out of everyone that could be here right now, it’s Kim Taehyung.

As though reading her mind, he takes a small step forward. “What did the doctor say?” he asks softly, and she knows he isn’t referring to her injuries.

Dilara shrugs, feeling her lower lip tremble. “I can’t race this weekend,” she murmurs in a matter-of-fact tone, as though she’d been expecting it all along… which she had. She just hadn’t expected it to feel this horrible. All her hard work, getting over her initial slump, spending hours training and going over data, doing whatever PR they wanted… No one can say that missing this race is her fault, but when the season ends and she’s trailing behind Max in the points, they aren’t going to remember why. She’ll just be another Red Bull driver that lost to Max Verstappen, swiftly getting demoted to AlphaTauri while another one of their wonderkids gets a shot at the Red Bull seat.

Dilara doesn’t realise she’s crying until a tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away immediately, trying not to look at Taehyung but there’s no hiding it. He doesn’t say or do anything, not even when she sniffles and feels another tear fall, and she’s relieved for it. He doesn’t leave either, and she doesn’t ask him to.

The doctor comes in after about five minutes, once she’s done with her crying. He tells her kindly to go home and rest and to please call “Mr Horner” the first chance she gets. 

“And eat, per favore,” he says finally, gesturing to the muesli and yoghurt. “You need your energy.”

Dilara nods as he leaves, sighing and texting Christian the news. She doesn’t think she can talk to him right now; she’s too exhausted and she’s afraid she’ll start sobbing if she hears his voice, begging him to let her race somehow, even though she knows she won’t be able to.

She places her phone on the bed and looks up at Taehyung, still standing in the same place, hands in his pockets, as though waiting for a cue from her. “I should… I should call a car or something,” she says, her words still slurring slightly with the aftereffects of the morphine. 

He frowns. “I can take you home. The car is right here.”

She sighs, expecting this response. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he stayed here all this time if it wasn’t to wait for visiting hours, or to take her home after. What she can’t understand is why? Why is he doing all this for her? Rescuing her off the side of the road… that’s just human decency. He’s not a monster; it’s not unexpected that he’d save her from dehydration or assault. But the rest of it; the coffee, the comfort, the offer to take her back home… she doesn’t understand it.

Or maybe she does. His guilt is quite clear; like she said, he’s not a monster. He feels guilty for what he did and is possibly trying to make up for it. She doesn’t know how she feels about it. She should be glad he’s sorry, but somehow it doesn’t make what he did hurt any less. She also doesn’t know whether to feel like a charity case, like rich people who donate to NGOs when they’ve cheated on their spouse or their taxes.

She shakes her head. “That’s… that’s okay. You’ve done enough,” she says honestly, raising the coffee in her hand slightly.

“And I can take you back home. I live there, too,” he adds, which she’d sort of forgotten until now.

“There are photographers and stuff here,” she tries to reason. “If they see you with me…”

He shrugs. “So what? You have a bandaged foot. What are they going to say? V of BTS helps his injured…” He trails off, looking at her expectantly, like he always does when he’s searching for the word… except this time he isn’t searching for the word. He just doesn’t know which word to use.

“Colleague,” she says, softly but firmly, holding his gaze.

He nods, swallowing slightly. “Helps his injured colleague get a ride home,” he finishes. “It’s not a headline. And it’s not one I care about.”

Of course it isn’t. Dilara doesn’t say it out loud but apparently something in her expression says it for her, for he backtracks immediately.

“I just mean… I don’t care if they photograph us. They know we… know each other.” He sighs. “Dilara,” he says softly, and her heart jolts in her chest, “let me take you home.”

Finally, she nods, exhaling. “Alright, fine.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and he immediately strides over, hands hovering, ready to catch her if she needs it. She manages to stand on her own and take a couple of stumbling steps before her hand reaches out to grab his arm.

“You should eat,” he reminds her, and she picks up the yoghurt while he does the same with the coffee, and with his other arm securely around her waist, they head downstairs.

“You want to wait here while I get the car?” he asks when they’re outside near the exit. This area is far less crowded, with only a few staff members walking around purposefully. Dilara nods and takes a seat on a narrow parapet, watching him walk away, begrudgingly admiring how incredible he looks even from the back even in nothing but a hoodie and joggers.

Shaking her head in mild disbelief, she opens the yoghurt. After the first bite which hits her like a cold, sweet, crunchy train, she begins to devour the contents of the cup. She doesn’t even notice Charlotte, McLaren’s press officer, come up to her, smiling in greeting and sympathy.

“Hey, you,” she says, stopping next to Dilara. “I heard. How do you feel?”

“Like an idiot,” she answers, rolling her eyes. “Have they already put out a post on social media?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” Charlotte tilts her head a bit. “But it’s just one race. Rest up and you know you’ll be back in no time for the next one.”

Dilara nods, the yoghurt suddenly becoming difficult to swallow. “Just want to get to bed, to be honest. And get something else to eat after this.”

She notices the cup and frowns. “Hang on, is that Starbucks?”

“Yeah, apparently there is one here somewhere.”

“No, I know, I searched for it last night on Maps. I was planning on getting a morning coffee from there but it’s like an hour away,” she laments, shaking her head, not noticing how Dilara freezes mid-bite. “Don’t think anyone’s got the time to go all the way there and back.”

Even after she leaves and Taehyung brings the car around, helping her climb into the passenger seat with a little more ease than before, Dilara can’t help but run Charlotte’s words through her mind again and again. Clutching the empty yoghurt cup in one hand, she looks out the window as he drives them back, trying once again to understand what the hell goes on in his mind.

She should be grateful, in a way, or maybe even flattered. But all it does is create a low, uncomfortable pressure in her stomach, the thought that he’s willing to inconvenience himself just because of what he did half a year ago. She feels like the source of her discomfort is hovering just within reach, but she can’t put her finger on it. 

When they reach the house, he helps her inside with the same arm around her waist. Once they’re in the door and passing through the kitchen, she gently wriggles out of his arms, holding onto the kitchen island to signal that she’ll make it inside by herself.

“Will you be okay?” Taehyung asks. “I can get you something else if you want.”

Dilara shakes her head. “No, that’s alright. I just need to sleep.”

“I can cook you something. Ramen or…”

She turns to look at him, still standing where she’d left him, and raises her eyebrow. “You can cook?” she asks, deadpan, knowing the answer.

His mouth twitches. “I can try. I know how to make rice and everything,” he says, and she can hear a note of pride in his voice. It makes her heart do a backflip - in a good way, for the first time in a long time.

“Well, that’s - that’s great, but… I’m not hungry.”

“The doctor said you should eat, baby. If it’s not -”

“Don’t call me -”

“Yeah, I - I know,” he says immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. Just… habit.”

Habit? Dilara didn’t know if she wanted to say anything to him about this display of generosity all day but that one comment - habit - pretending as though they haven’t been broken up for longer than they were together, gets her pulse racing.

“How far was the Starbucks?” she asks him after a moment, point-blank.

His face doesn’t move, but the fact that he doesn’t answer immediately makes it clear that he knows he’s caught out. “Does it matter?”

Goddamnit, Kim Taehyung. “It does to me. How far was it?”

He continues watching her, eyes unwavering, until he finally looks at the ground before looking back up. “About forty-five minutes,” he answers eventually, sounding a bit resigned.

“One way?”

“Sounds like you already know.” When she simply scoffs, he frowns. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem,” she begins with a massive effort, “is that I don’t need you going out of your way for me, okay? I don’t need -” She breaks off, realising she’s not making sense. “Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. So… thank you for today. Thank you for picking me up and getting me coffee and - and bringing me back here…”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says softly.

“Yes, I do,” she says forcefully, frustrated at how she’s unable to put this into words. “I would’ve thanked anybody else, because it’s just the right thing to do. But you’re not doing it because it’s the right thing, you’re doing it because -” She breaks off again because he’s basically confirmed it now.

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Because?”

“Because you feel guilty. Because you’re sorry.”

“Of course I’m sorry!” Taehyung exclaims immediately, eyes going wide. Dilara wonders briefly if there’s anyone else in the house hearing this. “Dilara, I am so, so, sorry for what I did -”

“But that’s my point!” she interrupts him, feeling a prickle at the back of her eyes. “You’re sorry. But I don’t care about that anymore. If you’re looking to assuage your guilt or you’re looking for absolution, go adopt a puppy or - or donate something to charity. Don’t make me your charity.”

He looks stung. “How can you say that? I’m not trying to -” He frowns, suddenly looking like a child. “What was the word?”

“Assuage,” she repeats in a low voice.

“I’m not trying to assuage my guilt,” he says, stuttering slightly around the new word. “You’re hurt and I wanted to help -”

“Do you think Max Verstappen would’ve driven an hour to get me coffee?” she interrupts him again. “Even Lexie probably wouldn’t have done that. If you think this is going to make us even, it’s -” She scoffs, shaking her head.

“I don’t think this is going to make us even,” he says scathingly, but his voice trembles. “I know it’ll take a lot more to do that, and I will do whatever it takes to do that, Dilara, because I’m so fucking sorry. I had no intention of -”

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about this,” she says immediately, turning around as the familiar lump in her throat reappears.

“Cheating on you was the worst thing I -”

“Fucking hell, you think that was the worst part?” Before she knows it, her empty muesli cup hits the wall behind him, four feet to his right. He shuts his eyes immediately but doesn’t flinch, for he has to know that if she wanted it to hit him, it would have.

“Come on, you won’t even let me apologize?” He sounds more frustrated than anything. “We have to talk about this some time. We can’t just not -”

“Yes, we can.” Dilara glares up at him, forcing herself not to look away. “Or do you think you’re the only one who gets to decide when we stop talking?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker with something, but he doesn’t say anything. He runs his hand over his jaw, looking more troubled than ever. It looks a bit much to be just for an apology, but she doesn’t care. He’s an actor; this is something he does, something he’s good at.

“I don’t owe you a thing, Kim,” she tells him finally, picking up the cup and limping towards her room, the pain in her ankle suddenly not so bad. She intends for it to sound firm, but her voice trembles as well and she has to look away just in case she starts crying. “Thanks for the coffee,” she mutters, before closing her bedroom door behind her.

~

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#taehyung x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #btswritingcafe #ficscafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtaninn #bangtanwhq #52hertz #bts v #bts v fanfic

[honeybeewhereartthee]

•❅───✧❅Once Upon a fairy tale❅✧───❅•

╭─ ⋅ <<⋅xx ─ ✩Tale One: little mermaid─ ⋅NEXT>> ⋅ ─╮

"thank you very much. Your really kind!" Cold yet warm embrace of the happy fish boy envelope you, not caring for ones personal space as he happily show his gratitude towards you.

For saving his life. Through its more of his carelessness to not understand the way of the fish people-- the fact merfolk would die when they are too dry out.

"oh goodness! Your gonna dry yourself again! Pls be careful, Amagi!" Head spinning as your heart beats quite too loud and quite too fast for your poor soul, as you succomb to your embarrassment.

You never knew his such person who's doesn't know another person would not be open to such affection, at least from a stranger you barely know for a day --awake.

"oh! You can call me, Hiiro! Since you and I will have to stay together!" He beam still circling his arms around you. His slimy form that slowly covered your dry cloths( which you dried through the burning hear of the summer sun of this unknown world.

"pardon? Stay together? Why did you say that? Do you not know, I'm a Producer? I told you before. Producer with an idol is nothing good for new one like you! Neither will it be for me." You cannot believe he forgotten what you said earlier today, at least earlier the day back in your world. You don't know how time work in this world of fairy tale as he told you.

"won't it be ok? In This place. No one is an idol or a producer ! Ahaha ~ only Hiiro and ... Ah! I don't know your name yet! I don't want to call you producer since we're outside work!" He laughs your worry off as he look up to you, while he clings in your side, his blue eyes captivate you, a view of beautiful vast sky and the sea reflected in his eyes.

"ah. Do you really have to..." You look at his innocent blue eyes, unable to say more. You sigh. Defeated by those gaze. "It's MC." You introduce yourself.

"MC? MC... MC... MC! Hmm!" He keep repeating your name, your ears start to warm up with how your name being called by him multiple of time is slowly effecting you.

"c-can y-you please S-STOP t-that...! My name isn't a poem or whatnot to be repeated such passion... This aren't an ASMR tagged fairy tale right?" You covered your ears, or else you might lost yourself from such pure torture of a merman calling your name.

Surely his not a siren trying to drag you to the depth, as this is a little mermaid! Or-- or merman and siren tend to share same lore or almost same lore as one another, hence it cause such effect on you?

Many thoughts comes in your mind, finding logic to things, that's already so illogical the moment you wake such place! Obviously it's make your beating heart, calm as it should be. With how fast it is. You pretty sure, your sick!

"but your name is nice to say! It's very pretty and unique! " He honestly says, beaming you a smile that almost shoot an arrow through y your heart.

"AHHHHHHHHHH. PLEASE MY EARS AND HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS TORTURE." you turn bloody red as you try to move away from him.

" MC! MC!? MC!" He called out to you. he quickly swim to follows you, quickly as you both are still out on the open water.

"yes!? I am indeed, mc! Pls stop carelessly calling me with your siren like voice!" Embarrassed to even look at him, he chuckle at your words. You very interesting.

"ahaha~ mc your so funny! Let's be close friends!" ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧

"No way!No way! I'll die if you continue to act so affectionate to me! We barely know each other! "

"it's ok! We will get to know each other or else we can't go back home!"

"say what? Pardon?!" You most be hearing things. So you two aren't totally stuck in this none techno world at all? You still able to go back to your home? To do the overbearing overtime to get money to buy food in weekdays?! Surely his not just saying that to applauses you!

"oh! I forgotten to tell you! " He pause as he realize he have failed to tell you an important information. "We need to make sure the fairy tale find it's happy ending! Or else we'll be stuck in this place!"

" I see! That's seems logical--" you nodded in understanding --not. " sorry I am too dumb to understand it clearly. " You admitted. There's no point to hiding such thing.

"oh! Don't worry! I'm more dumb than you are! Ahaha. If we're two dumb people, then surely we get along very well! " His optimistic as he down grade himself shocks you.

You sure don't meet such guy in your life before. Such optimistic and happy personality is either causing you to stress or melt your problem away. After a moment of silence, you thought of something.

"I have to ask. Are we the main character?"

"that... Is something I'm not sure. Dad never told me much about the process of entering a fairy tale! Since he probably thought it be my big brother who will experience it! After all, my big brother would become the monarch one day! I am but my big brother loyal aid!" He proudly says.

Through he notice how you swim away even further away from him.

"monarch? Aid? What type of timeline is your village stuck into?" Your very intrigued about his village but alas that's not the problem at the moment.

"Do tell me, quickly how to escape! You did says we need to get along. Is there more to such information? Happy ending is a goal but do we need to interact with the characters...? " You tried to mentally noted all the thing you learn so far about your situation. Wonderland what's the plot hole or a way our of this place, of course there's already a plain solution, but alas. There aways that is hidden through the context of the each rules and lore.

"woah. Your very into this! How nice! Ahaha~ I'm glad your interactive!" He quickly swim towards you again.

"... Keep your distance pls." You quickly made sure you and him have a five feet distance causing him to frown.

"Ah? Why? I will not harm you! I swear. I'm harmless." He try to reassure you.

"it's not about being harmless or not. It's about your presence is doing to my system. Your alluring fish ability, ahem a siren or a mermaid is known to have alluring voice that would help them drag their victims to the depths of the sea." Your an honest child when being force into the corner by a very captiviting person, your just a human being easily be tempted by such treat, through you refuse to succumb to such things.

"oh...!? Did you mean, you like my voice? I'm glad then!" He felt so happy that you think so. His beaming smile that can Rival the sun, almost melting you. "I mean.. your are an idol, you need to have a amazing voice or face or both to gain fans. You have both."

"ahaha. You think I'm good looking? Thank you for the compliment! Your also very charming!" Taken back from his compliment, you are not able to swim away and now he have his hands around you for embrace yet again. " Please don't run away, were being watch. " He whisper to your ears causing you to cower in fear, shaking like a leaves in windy season.

"Excuse me... Did you mean...." You dread to even look around the place, bur he nodded his head as he rest of against your right shoulder blade.

"it's the [ kraken ] ."

You sure hope he doesn't mean a literal one and just mean the sea witch!

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

(if want to be tagged pls comment or Send mail) Tag List : @vixxine

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstar x reader #enstar #Once upon a fairy tale #Hiiro x reader #hiiro Amagi x reader #Hiiro Amagi #Amagi Hiiro x reader

[randomnameless]

I've been meaning to ask this for a while but tbh I was hoping it'd stop before it became a regular thing, but that didn't happen... so anyway, I'll just cut to the chase, why do you keep calling the nabateans lizard people? This just feels wildly inappropriate tbh, to give a *fictional* group a label that carries such heavily antisemetic qualities. You are full on calling a group of shapeshifting dragons, one of which is head of a continental institution of power, and who hide their ability to shapeshift, an antisemetic label, and you are missing how this is actually worse. It has been exactly 0 weeks since I've seen people calling the nabateans 'lizard people' and then turning around saying they're jewish coded, and then calling people who don't like rhea antisemetic. Bc theyre 'lizard people' and therefore 'jewish'. This is literally so fucking offensive. Can you please at least come up with a different thing to call them? Bc this shit is just blasted in the main tags literally every single day and tbf it's extremely draining to see people constantly throwing that term around like it's nothing

I was debating whether I should reply to this given how I received a similar ask a little over a month ago from a notorious troll, but for the 1% of chance that this ask isn't another troll, and because I feel like it's important to put words on things, I'll give a complete answer -

under the cut, because it's long!

First of all, unless I missed a post after checking on the archive, I do not think I ever used the words "lizard people", except when it is to talk about the varying degrees of "weird" and "yikes" some takes in the fandom smell like.

If I did, however, I apologise, it was obviously not meant to make an antisemitic statement or whatever it is you think it was, as you might now I am not an english native speaker, so some idioms or association of words don't immediately lit a red light, I made some blunders some time ago and immediately corrected it when someone pointed it out (like, the word "bamboula" refers to an african dance, but the second you say "bamboula" in France you're immediately suspected of being racist, because it was used as a common slur in the 1910s and is still used in some, uh, far right conventions, I guess). If you have a post in mind, then feel free to share, and I'll edit it accordingly!

The tag I use for general Nabatean content is "lizard family time?".

Now, as you can guess after, I supposed, reading this blog and especially, content tagged with this, well, tag, I use it to tag cute/warm/random/fluffy artwork, headcanons, shitposts and whatnot. As the name suggest, I use it to tag content I like about Nabateans acting like a family.

As for, I supposed, the "lizard" mention that might make people confused, Nabateans are a race of fictional people in a fictional game who can turn in giant beasts, all beasts we have seen so far have reptile-like qualities or are, generally speaking, from the reptile family (a dragon, a turtle, and a... bird/griffin thing). Now, calling them "reptilians" felt a bit too close to a slur, but there were harmless jokes around about Rhea, because of her draconic form, having cold blood thus liking to sit on warm rocks, and I found it cute, thus I adopted the "lizard fam" denomination, and ended up with the "lizard family time?" tag.

Short story, long story : this tag is obvioulsy not meant to convey anti-semitic theories and thoughts about real people in real life, but to tag content about a fantasy race of shapeshifters who sometimes shift in giant reptiles who act as a familial cell.

Which brings me to my second point -

(and one I already developed a bit in the previous post)

Fire Emblem is a series who always had fantasy "humans" interact with another fantasy race of people being able to turn in other creatures, mostly dragons.

Fire Emblem Fodlan's take on those creatures is :

People who were genocided,

People racially profiled by their enemies who had a hand in said genocide,

People who hide those traits,

People who are religious,

People who are depicted by someone as ruling over the world in secret,

People who are depicted by the same someone as "hoarding money" and deceiving everyone,

People whose blood, according to the same someone's rhetoric, corrupts humanity and is the reason why the World sucks,

People who are constantly othered by their enemies, who cannot see them as being able to live with them, nor having "human feelings" because of their race,

+

The someone mentionned above comes from a country that names its people with names and surnames (and evern particles!) kind of similar to a real world country.

I do not think the developers of this game wanted to make a "Godwin Points : the Game" version of Fire Emblem, but there are a lot of clues someone who knows even very little of the recent World's History might catch and compare to, well, some events that happened.

As such, I do not think me calling Nabateans "lizard family" is an antisemitic label or calling them "lizards" is the only reason why, to some people, Nabateans are "jewish coded", to borrow your own words. I just made a bullet list of other "reasons" who might lead some people to believe this.

Anyways, I always advocate against insulting people or giving them labels based on their opinions about a bunch of pixels from a fantasy universe, so you can dislike Nabateans and not be called anti-semitic, just like you can not vote for a female character in a harmless poll and not be called a misogynist, just like you can like a bisexual character and not be called a homophobe, etc, etc.

Racism, homophobia, sexism, ableism, antisemitism... are real-life legal concepts and notions that exist and encompass real situations, with real people, and real consequences.

Suggesting I might be anti-semitic because I quote Zephia call the Divine Dragon Alear a "lizard" is ridiculous, when we all know, even you, who sent this ask, what anti-semitism is and what it entails in real life for real people who are subjected to it.

Using real life notions and legal concepts to defend a bunch of pixels is puerile and ultimately says more about the one who is using those notions, thinking they can be easily distorted and used to talk about fantasy characters from a video game made by devs who forgot to hire a continuity guy, than whatever point he wanted to make.

As such, I do not think calling fantasy men and women who can transform in dragons/turtles/griffins-bird things "lizards" is offensive, but bringing up real-life discriminations and situations people are experiencing as we speak, to win an internet argument over fictional characters, is, imho, offensive.

If you do not agree, then you are free to block this blog and the contents I post (curate your Tumblr experience, the block button is here for that!), you can even report it to whoever is in charge of moderating this platform ; I do not think I breached any ToS and if I did, I would much prefer the Tumblr staff to tell me how and why, than someone who sends a message via anon asks who is, from what I can deduce from your ask, annoyed at seeing opinions - as smelly as they can be - about a video game.

#anon #replies #fandom woes #is it a bait? but if it isn't I'll take it just for the 1% of chance this isn't a bait #who could have guessed to jokes about rhea sitting on warm rocks would have led to this #hint anon : it's not calling nabateans lizards that make people see a parallel it's everything else around them #I made a bullet point list ! #sometimes getting a taste of your own medicine hurts #idk if that thread is still burning or fuming but OP was called names for saying something about demographics being different on Tumblr #and redshit? Really? #pro tip for browsing the internet anon : don't hope just block #if you do not like the content then block #weird content in the tags? Block the users #ça me fait penser aux dernières élections si t'aimes pas lfi t'es un facho lol

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

a long thing about fanfiction writing and my future spidey fic specifically

so i watched some tasm content on youtube, just to get some *vague gestures* you know for the plot of the fic

and it's...

questionable

the plot and pacing and decisions that these writers made are extremely questionable.

(I really loved the rewrite from troyoboyo17 on youtube! don't always agree with him but he did a great job with his TASM rewrite so I would recommend checking out his channel. Very well-spoken and funny guy.)

anyway I wanted to say that what I'm planning has Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone in mind, with a few keypoints to his plot that I will keep, but overall his story might change drastically

Obviously it would have anyway, since we're introducing very new concepts and characters to his story, but the difference is clear :

I'm not just inserting my characters and plot into his movies and making the appropriate changes according to that. No.

This is simply a project where the spider-man and the peter parker I want to write about is just fundamentally the same as Andrew Garfield's. Gwen Stacy is also included in this, as my issues don't lie with her, her character or her chemistry with Pete, but some elements will definitely have to go, and there are some things I want to explore with her too.

Sorry for the long post! I know that not many people are interested or will read for now, but just in case some people stumble across my account and are curious about this project I'm starting, it's an important disclaimer I have to make!

so here it is :

THIS IS NOT A FANFIC IN THE WEBB-VERSE. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT ANDREW'S PETER AND SPIDER-MAN.

As for the reader/oc that I'm still working on, the decision is tough but I think I'll make it into an OC. Obviously it makes my job easier, but there are also a few things I want to talk about :

Reading xreader fanfics, for me, a person who is VERY different from the usual target demographic of these, is difficult. I have a lot of trouble seeing myself anywhere or identifying to anyone in media and fiction, wether that's about appearance, gender, ethnicity, or deeper issues i have to deal with and general inner workings of the mind

I get frustrated easily scowering Ao3 and Tumblr tags for something that might be a little like me, but it's... difficult. And hasn't happened yet. I have never found anything that fits me or makes me feel included in any way, because there's always an important detail that sticks out and "ruins it"

And by writing about a character in my head that would not apply to everyone, I feel almost selfish because I feel like I'm closing the door to an opportunity to make everyone feel included. So I feel genuinely sorry. And I know that it's impossible to have a character that everyone identifies with in all aspects, because it would just be a blank slate and there wouldn't be a story to tell, but I still feel sorry in some way.

So yes, this will be about an afab oc, and there are aspects of their personality and character that I'm already sure of, so that's that.

I talked at first about a gender-neutral reader spider-person fic but that's easier to achieve on a smaller scale, like in ficlets or headcanons and whatnot

And why I wanted to do that originally is because I read murdock fanfics for example, works like "Bound By Law" by @1rsoldiersince2012 , or "Chaos Broke The Devil" by @lunarrule on AO3 or even obviously OBVIOUSLY @pastafossa's The Red Thread that i've mentioned before,

they're all WONDERFUL AND AMAZING AND YES I'M ALSO TAKING AN OPPORTUNITY TO SHOUT THEM OUT

but these three fics are still centered around a mostly original character that you can IMAGINE as yourself. And because the people that want to read matt murdock fics are USUALLY MOSTLY women, it's normal that this "y/n" ends up a woman

so ofc, as you can guess, and because the DD fanfic land is so small and petite and skinny and small, there is no long, plot-centric x reader fanfiction that is ready to commit and explore the consequences involved with choosing a "reader" that isn't just some skinny woman.

And, I think, it's maybe also because Involving more diversity would also mean talk about these issues without which it'd feel unnatural. For example, it is a little weird to read stranger things fanfictions where "reader" is trans or nb or something, and as soon as they meet everybody they all are accepting and use the proper pronouns and it doesn't have consequences on social or family life within the 80s little small town world that is Stranger Things

But talking about that is tricky too. You wouldn't want people going through discrimination or exclusion or any kind of familial or social issues to have to endure that in their safe place too. Fandom, and fanfiction especially, is an escape. It's self-indulgent, and wonderful, and probably not realistic (at all...)

i mean come on. it's alternate realities, vampires, wizards and superheroes and whatever. come on.

but still, accurate representation is important too, maybe even more than complete escapism? Maybe it depends on the person.

(I'm the kind of reader that gets jealous and frustrated when it's too soft or too happy or too perfect in fanfiction, but maybe that's exactly what someone else needs??)

ugh.

This whole issue is complicated. For some reason I wanted to get it all out, I needed some kind of vessel for my thoughts.

so

to sum up the important parts :

- my fanfic (maybe will include some artwork and comic strips) will be about andrew's spidey but not the webb-verse

- the main character will be afab, but I will, because I can't help it, include tidbits about queerness and stuff

- I'm sorry to everyone who will be a little dissapointed, like I am sometimes with other fandoms, that this won't be an xreader fic they can transpose themselves onto, or at least not a blank slate of one

thank you for reading all of this!

#spider-man #daredevil #spider-man fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #writing #writing fanfiction #fanfiction #timestampforfutureonyx #long rant thing sorry

[violence-as-a-love-language]

I posted 4,378 times in 2022

That's 3,198 more posts than 2021!

96 posts created (2%)

4,282 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@commandrogyne

@eggyleg

@crack--attack

@skullscramblies

@vesper-thejester

I tagged 3,777 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#wwdits - 986 posts

#our flag means death - 693 posts

#nandermo - 394 posts

#blackstede - 328 posts

#ofmd spoilers - 315 posts

#guillermo de la cruz - 300 posts

#q - 274 posts

#nandor the relentless - 255 posts

#blackbeard - 210 posts

#good omens - 206 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#and he gets so many followers who keep commenting on how cute and sad it is that he's trying to hard to get his ex's attention

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Gotta say, i'm getting real tired of seeing Oluwande drawn skinny in every fan art I see of him

41 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

#4

[I.D. A picture of the book Spitfire by Maya Kern sitting on a desk /end I.D.]

Thank you @mayakern for writing a book so beefy, it should last me through most of my top surgery recovery lol. I just got it yesterday and I'm excited to dive in once I get some sleep.

64 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

#3

Rewatching Dimension Jump and wow, its so fascinating to see Ace's arrival for two reasons now.

1) While Ace is more successful and lusted after, he's still not very secure in his sexuality. He keeps playing up how macho he is and making references to not 'being a sissy.' He's still a repressed version of Rimmer and thats so fascinating to me, since you'd think he would have gotten more secure in his sexuality considering.

2) Rimmer immediately starts insinuating Ace is queer in multiple (obviously degrading) ways because he feels threatened by him. But considering Ace is, well, him, it makes the situation all the more telling. And Kryten confronts him on this, but doesn't get to finish pointing this out to him, which I think is such a shame.

As a bonus, its even more funny to me that Ace immediately becomes best friends with Lister. Like, I want a fic where Lister tries to get with Ace to make Rimmer jealous, only to find Ace is just as repressed as Rimmer.

102 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

#2

Ace and Rimmer are both so similar. Yeah, Rimmer is extremely bitter and insecure, but Ace is just as insecure. He just swung the other direction to complete selflessness.

He has no concept of care for his own well being. Hell, Lister mentions he's fuckin up for 36 hours with a broken arm (which he still hasn't taken care of), fresh off of Cats surgery, and he's teaching Kryten to play the piano.

This man wants so terribly to be liked and loved he will never put his own happiness first. Everyone else comes first. Yeah, he may be a 'hero,' but at what cost?

120 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay I'm gonna make this it's own post cause it's important.

Good Omens, WWDITS, and OFMD are all queer rep. But I really do think the main reason why ofmd feels the most 'real' for some people is it scratches a particular itch a lot of people on Tumblr have been trying to get for years.

Good Omens has two characters who appear to be men. Both characters spend thousands of years pining after each other and falling in love, but it's not 'explicitly states' not is there a kiss. There is rep for nonbinary folks, AroAce folks, but it's not 'gay.' The rep is purely 'queer.'

What We Do in the Shadows has a romance between two men. Both, while confirmed to be gay/bi, have not kissed or hugged or been 'romantic' on screen. They've been intimate and have had arcs to show care, jealously, and whatnot but nothing very romantic. At least, not from a classic standpoint. The creators are pushing a 'will they/won't they' arc. This is normal in many TV shows, but for many queers who are used to queerbaiting, the expectation is to be let down. Even if all the signs point to 'they will' it still hits that traumatic 'queerbaiting' tone for many.

Our Flag Means Death has a romance between not only two men, but a side romance between two men that has a kiss scene. The two main leads are romantic towards each other. But not only that, the creator has made it explicitly clear this is a romance. He has pushed again and again that this will happen, it's just a slow burn. There is explicit 'gay' rep on screen and promised future 'gay' rep.

The reason ofmd resonates is because of what other posts have pointed out. Supernatural, Merlin, Sherlock; over and over two men have been shipped together with such fervor, it feels like a betrayal when it's ignored. Or teased and then ignored. We don't want to be traumatized again.

But also, they all represent one type of rep. Romantic, gay rep of two cishet men finding love. Even though in the case of Destiel, Cas is rarely viewed as anything but a cis man (even though that's very not true). The expectation that those previous failures are being redeemed by this one show can make the queer rep in other shows seem less desirable.

Good Omens, WWDITS, and OFMD are three different types of queer rep, but ofmd has a specific trauma reaction being healed tied to it. And it's okay to recognize that, but also, it needs to be recognized that does not take the queerness away from other shows.

None of these shows are queerbaiting. Acknowledge your trauma and enjoy them all for what they are, not what you want them to be.

3,016 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #I have no idea what that longest tag is for #Wwdits being my main tag doesn't surprise me tho

[kashacreates]

Ask Day List Info and Thoughts

Concisely:

👾The Sunday List is now @kashasstupidboner and is no longer tied to a day.

As such, this requirement still remains: If I cannot tell you are an adult from the content of your blog OR you don't DM me to let me know you are an adult, I'll soft-block follows on that blog.

👾There is only one maintained "Ask Days List" and it is the original post.

The tags added to posts are purely for the function of tagging those on the Ask Days List. Sunday was the only exception, and that one is getting shifted to its own blog.

👾Ask list responses are being queued onto @kashasprompts.

👾 Also: new mainblog @kashas-stuff

@pendles-is-friendles is an old RP blog and won't be deleted; but it's kind of an archive of a time that's long since passed. There's lots of emotions attached to that blog; all positive but bittersweet. It seems a good time to lay it to rest.

Rambly and Over-Explainly:

To be blunt: I'm dumb, have memory issues, and a lot of projects and stuff on my plate. I also lack a lot of social graces and I know my bluntness can turn people off; I very, very, very rarely initiate DMs and it's almost always for a quick check-in/whatnot when I think I've done something wrong or think something is amiss. I'll call myself lazy, but it's more I operate on a level of fatigue that is more fugue than functional. This makes me very slow at most things I do. So I make a lot of systems to help me manage things and allow me to do what I can.

Like, during all of this, I'm trying to learn to code in Javascript, REACT, and C++ WHILE re-writing part 3 for the third time.

Why this is important: I feel like some might think I'm ignoring them, or ghosting them or what not. I'm not trying to. Really! This isn't a "drama because I don't like doing this"; it's more "oh shit, I don't want people to think I'm secretly awful and ignoring them!"

I'm just pumping the brakes a bit so I can get through everything without getting overwhelmed. It also gives me the chance to do content that's not just ask day stuff. I have an anthology to write and like getting asks too (which, I absolutely love you folks that send me asks back.) Also, lore posts.

And I'm pumping the brakes by doing the queue and not linking the ask day list directly in the prompts. Obviously, I'm still adding people that interact with that post -- I'm just making people work for it a little. It is in my introduction.

In conclusion: I feel that encouraging interaction with people helps any online community you're in! This is why I do these things and I LOVE how big the "Ask Days List" has become. Seriously! I like contributing! But, I'm human and slow, so I'm using systems to help me make sure I can keep contributing and not burn out. I also want people to see my work and posts and don't want to flood the dash. So, as a win-win, I'm using the queue and another blog to do the replies.

As for Sundays:

That one ask I got from the minor wanting advice low-key freaked me out.

Also, not everyone wants that kind of content on their dash. So relegating it to a day and tagging everything should work, right?

Except, certain tags can make the posts disappear from searches. And words in the post too! Ok, use slightly-modified citrus scale and heavy euphemisms. Oh, well now I have to do posts about the citrus scale and hope people see it.

Oh, any everyone that follows can see, interact, etc. with it and while I do block obvious minors that follow, I don't want to soft-block or block everyone that I'm unsure about. That's just rude.

And I forget who I'm unsure about. See the: "I'm dumb, lazy, and have memory issues." This is why I might interact with someone I'm unsure about with spicy content... then have an "oh shit" moment when it's something that makes me look at their blog again. I'm deeply sorry for being wishy-washy that way because I know it's an asshole thing to do-- it's why it's important for me to quarantine that content to its own blog. I can better moderate there than I can here (I still can't guarantee perfection, but I can at least make a much better effort).

I also can't expect people to have their ages in their bios, which is why I do a bit of sleuthing on my own. I look for mentions of jobs, things that are unlikely to have been done by minors (like multiple published books), mentions of being married, etc. I look at the mainblog and the writeblr blog (if they're separated) and will click presented links to FAQs, INFO, introductions, etc.

But if I can't find anything like that or have to dig through pages and pages of reblogs, it remains "unsure."

To help me get over that you can just DM me and tell me you're an adult.

While Moonlit Path isn't erotica, there are scenes that might cross the line. (For instance, and it'll be content warned in that part, but there is a scene in Friends of when Vocatia and Torque met... which was in the breeding chambers. No erotica, but like, it's obvious what they're supposed to be doing.) And I'll admit that I dug deep into the mechanics of how reproduction works with a lot of the species -> It informs their social development and what's involved with finding partners, etc. There's also a lot of violence and gore because the universe is kind of at war.

This blog is still 18+; but it's more of a "rated R" 18+ than "rated XXX" 18+.

@kashasstupidboner is "rated XXX." (Still with citrus scale, but I can "do away" with the tags that render the search function entirely useless. And still no images or art (There's very little of it, but there is some). Those'll have to be relegated to my AD twitter that's mixed content.)

#notice #There is not a thought between my eyes most days #I was gonna save the spicy announcement for tomorrow; #I took a look at the interactions of that ask list and realized a few folks were in limbo because I can't tell if they're actually adults #and not just me ASSUMING they are.

[kissjoy]

About me

Hiya! I go by Ao on here and I'm just fooling around on this funky lil' site to entertain myself with my sexual interests and fantasies and whatnot. I do reblog posts with emojis that indicate my romantic f/o because I love myself enough to have this kind of self care. :] This is a sideblog, so I follow back from k**e**s. I'm transmasc agender bi switch and verse ( heavily sub leaning ) 21 y/o SE Asian as I go by any pronouns and don't mind any gender specific labels + terms ( pretty / handsome, good girl / boy, etcetera ); although changing them up here and there would be much appreciated! Any pet names are good to give at anytime, also! I'm the host of a system, so collective pronouns ( we / us / our ) are to be done often. While I am in a relationship with an alter in the system, I would definitely be more than happy to pursue a relationship with someone outside the system who's willing to be my daddy. 🥺👉👈 Just lemme know if you're interested in that so I don't get anything confused!

Important note: I don't tag any triggers here, so there will be presence of CNC and somno related posts here. The thought of consent and aftercares are always part of the harder kinks that I have.

My Kinks

Breeding ( no pregnancy ), light bondage, cockwarming, come denial, CNC, dumbification, free use, gangbangs, humping, inspection, light humiliation, knotting, light petplay ( I'm a puppy / wolf <3 ), monsterfucking, praise / worship, oral fixation, primal play, somno, teasing, tentacles, werewolf related stuff, using mommy and daddy as titles. Assume that the kinks that are not mentioned here are my limits.

Interaction

Dms is always open for those between 21 and 30, though I'm not so sure about sexting--- maybe if we're close and you ask beforehand, I'll allow it. No nudes, the most you'll get from me is just my regular cool pjs and a skull mask. <3 I do enjoy making friends and getting to know people, so don't hesitate to reach out! Keep in mind, my social energy is usually very low, so nothing personal if I take a while to get back, just bump the conversation occasionally if you wanna keep it up! It's easier for me to keep tabs on Discord, so if you have one and we've been acquainted for a bit, please do share your user! Some of my interests are P.okemon, D.igimon, J.ujutsu K.aisen, C.hainsaw M.an, P.acific R.im, anything K.aiju related medias!

DNI Critera

Obviously no minors, ageless blogs, terfs, pedophiles, racists, fatphobes, transphobes, antisemites and all other bigots, misgendering kink, detrans kink, feeders, ageplay, r*peplay, incest supporters. Just don't be a freak ( derogatory ).

[christaspirit]

I posted 372 times in 2022

That's 372 more posts than 2021!

80 posts created (22%)

292 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@zoe-oneesama

@moringmark

@officialfanbug

@nobodyfamousposts

@sepublic

I tagged 350 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#toh - 57 posts

#the owl house - 56 posts

#miraculous - 56 posts

#toh spoilers - 49 posts

#amphibia spoilers - 45 posts

#the owl house spoilers - 44 posts

#amphibia - 27 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 21 posts

#amphibia spoliers - 18 posts

#mlb - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#considering the previous episode told us that the core never sleeps it's funny that that's what we see it doing after the whole flashback

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

After learning he’s a grimwalker, Hunter might be wondering if he’s even a real person. After all, he seemed to know what a grimwalker is.

Having Flapjack is really important. I think Flapjack would bring Hunter to the Bat Queen. If anyone would know about wondering whether or not they’re real, it would be the palismen. After all, parliament are carved from wood. They aren’t born either.

Hunter really needs advice right now, and someone who understands where he’s coming from.

88 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#4

Okay, so there's this trope that I absolutely HATE. It's when the villain is so much more powerful than the hero, for no good reason, and the only reason the hero wins is because the villain is straight-up stupid. Like, the hero has all these restrictions and whatnot with their powers (time limits, limited use), while the villain DOESN'T. Like... what? There's no way this hero should be winning, except, the villain is dumb!

Take miraculous for example. Ladybug and Chat Noir can only use their power ONCE, and once they use their power, they have to detransform, recharge their kwamis, and retransform. Meanwhile, Hawkmoth (and Mayura) never have to detransform! Hawkmoth can send out another Akuma as soon as he wants. And he can even make it so he can send out as many as he wants! (See, Catalyst.) So why is Hawkmoth losing? Because he's dumb. He akumatizes Mr. Pigeon 72 times. He gives the akumatized villains dumb powers. And the akumas themselves make stupid choices, despite having no limits on their powers themselves (a few exceptions, like Lady Wifi needing her phone). The only reason Ladybug and Chat Noir are winning is because they're smarter than Hawkmoth! And it's not like their intelligence is a strength. If anything, they're dumb too. Hawkmoth is just more dumb. And the reason he doesn't have the same limit on his power? He's an adult. Yep. Not experience or anything. He's just an adult. Mayura didn't have a limit on her power when she first transformed as an adult.

Another example: Power Rangers (don't hate me, please). It's not as obvious, but like... guys, the villains follow the same pattern every. Single. Time. Like... just start expecting it. Or better yet, main villains, stop sending the bad guys in when you know it doesn't work! Like, seriously. These shows have the villain do pretty much the same thing every episode, with a different face. Show heroes. Show villains. Send the bad guy in. Fight. Defeat. Bad guys gets bigger. Fight. Defeat again. Lesson learned. Seriously, stop following this same pattern! Also, you guys always have access to your powers, while the ranger team needs to transform. And when the rangers get their powers, they don't need training or anything...? What?

Most kid shows are like this. The heroes are obviously less powerful than the villain, but the villain is dumb. Like, making the villain dumb on purpose is fine. But when you're treating them as an actual threat when they aren't... seriously?

Do I have any series that don't follow this pattern?

Yes. Yes I do.

Sailor Moon. Usagi just got her powers. So did her friends. They're insanely powerful, but they don't know how to use their powers. Meanwhile, the villains are like... thousands of years old. They have plenty of experience. The heroes and villains have around the same power level (I mean, Usagi literally destroys an entire planet in the second arc), the villains just have more experience!

Harry Potter. Voldemort is an adult. He's finished school, and has had lots of training and practice. He's also naturally gifted. Dumbledore has also had lots of practice and training. They're so powerful for these reasons. Meanwhile, everyone else either isn't as naturally gifted, or is legit still in school. Harry wins because of luck. He happened to disarm the elder wand's true master, so the elder wand would never hurt him. Harry also sacrificed himself, meaning Voldemort couldn't hurt anyone else. ACTUAL REASONS.

Percy Jackson. The demigods are kids, and they're HUMAN. The villains are all immortal, with lots more practice. Kronos was defeated because Luke managed to regain control long enough to sacrifice himself. Gaea was defeated because she was removed from her source of power. Hey look, more ACTUAL REASONS.

Phineas and Ferb. Yes, Doof is stupid. The series literally makes jokes at that. He's not treated as a super serious villain most of the time. THAT'S WHY IT WORKS. Meanwhile, Perry has had lots of training. Woah, the hero is better than the villain!

When the only reason there's an actual fight is because the Villain is more powerful just because it's not good. The heroes shouldn't be able to defeat this villain. The villain is too powerful compared to them. The only reason the heroes beat the villain is because the villain is dumb. That's why this bothers me! In a normal world, these villains wouldn't be defeated! If you're going to make the villain so much more powerful, give them a legit reason, like they've had way more experience, or they're naturally gifted! Or if you're going to make them dumb, than go hard on that! Don't make them this super serious threat when they aren't! The simple reason "they're an adult" is stupid. Just because you're an adult doesn't mean you skip the learning stage. Just being an adult isn't a reason. Something like "They've had more years to train because they're an adult now" works. Just being an adult doesn't work (I'm looking at you miraculous). Maybe the reason is because they're stronger. Explain why! Promised Neverland does this well, with the villains, the demons, being a different species! Another example from Promised Neverland, the "moms" being so much smarter than the kids, because they've had years to train. Or Norman being increadibly smart because it's a specialty. Raw talent.

In summary, please, don't make the villains so much more powerful than the heroes, and only lose because they're dumb. Make the villain and hero powerful, and not dumb, or make the villain dumb and make jabs at it for fun, but don't do them together. Because then the story is just plain unrealistic.

And I hate that.

95 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#3

After seeing the Collector stop the draining spell only minutes after Eda lost her arm, I was wondering (like a lot of others), why did they make Eda lose her arm? If they had just waited a few more minutes she would have been fine.

Then I realized her curse would kill her first. She didn't have a few more minutes. At the speed the corruption was spreading, she probably had like, a minute at most.

Raine could tell that. They didn't know if the spell could be stopped, so they decided they had to save Eda. They might die, but at least Eda would be safe.

105 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#2

Anya is Strong

See the full post

222 notes - Posted August 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Notes: I've seen many people do the fic where Marinette gets kicked off the class trip, but how mean her classmates acted bothered me, so I made them as in character as I could.

This takes place after season 3 if Marinette got Master Fu's tablet instead of Gabriel. Uh... that's all I've got to say.

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Marinette’s entire life changed when Lila joined her class.

Adrien insisted they don’t call Lila out. Gone was her friendship with him, and her crush.

The majority of her class believed Lila about Marinette bullying her. Those friendships were gone.

She lost trust with Mme. Bustier, as Bustier believed Lila’s injuries without any doctors records.

So when the school year was drawing to a close, Marinette’s only friends left in the class were Alya, Nino, Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel. 

Some of her other classmates were picking on her (slamming the door in her face, tripping her), but most of them just stood by passively.

Marinette had noticed Chloe was annoyed with Lila but assumed that was just because Lila was getting more attention than her.

So when Chloe had walked to Marinette’s desk with a thick binder, Marinette was surprised.

Chloe set the binder down on Marinette’s desk.

“What’s this?” Marinette asked.

“It’s…” Chloe muttered. “It’s a record of everything I’ve ever done to you. From the snide comments to wrecking your work and copying you,”

Marinette blinked, and opened the binder. To her surprise, Chloe was telling the truth. Everything Chloe had done to her in the past four years was written in the binder, in Chloe’s handwriting. However, next to each thing was a number. Most of the records of the snide comments had a single euro written out next to them, but some of the meaner things had even more euros, and anything Chloe had wrecked or copied had a number that matched the price of the object.

“What’s with the euros?” Marinette asked.

Chloe winced.

“I…” Chloe started, her voice cracking. “I thought that maybe I should pay you back. Things cost money, and I know that if I ruined your things or copied them, I had wasted your money… so… I’m going to pay you back,”

“Why are you paying me for things you said though?” Marinette asked.

“Because-” Chloe’s voice broke. “Because… well, I know that you’ve done everything for the class for free in the past. I’ve noticed. You made the banner for that race for free, you’ve made all their outfits for free… I felt like someone should pay you, and if they aren’t, then I will. And I’ve made enough mean comments about you that you’ll make a profit off of this,”

Marinette stared at the binder, then up at Chloe.

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette asked.

Chloe looked to the floor.

“I guess…” Chloe muttered. “I was just mean because I was jealous. You’re talented, you have your parents, and you were friends with everyone. Meanwhile, my mom can’t even keep my name straight, cheated on my dad and I have this half-sister I’ve never met, I make Sabrina do everything, and no one likes me… I thought making you miserable would make me feel better, and I guess I got carried away and didn’t realize that it was wrong. But after seeing how the class has treated you, some of whom have known you for years… I realized just how bad I was being. I realized what I put Sabrina through. And then Adrien… he knows the truth, and refuses to do anything! And Mme. Bustier is horrible!”

Chloe was lucky they were the only people in the classroom because the majority of the class would have glared at her.

“Alya doesn’t really like her either,” Marinette said. 

“So… yeah,” Chloe said. “Can we… start over? As friends?”

Marinette looked at the binder.

“Sure,” Marinette said.

—

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520 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

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