#( i don't know exactly how to phrase this because it is a bit late and i DO have a headache but i really don't think ayano truly sees

[chuluoyi]

jealousy, jealousy...

- nanami kento x reader

your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)

note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)

general masterlist

By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.

He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.

Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.

So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—

"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."

Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."

Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.

The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"

"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."

And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…

"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"

Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.

You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.

Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.

But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?

"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"

A puppy... is what?

That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.

No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!

The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.

Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.

Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.

"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.

Who... are you texting?

Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."

"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."

You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"

But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."

However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.

Ino.

A puppy is still a dog, you know~

The heck?

"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.

"Time for bed, dear."

Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.

The third time, Nanami had enough.

He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.

Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!

He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—

He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."

"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"

Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"

Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.

"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."

"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"

"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."

"...what?"

And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.

Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.

"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"

He huffed. "I was not jealous."

"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"

"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"

"Oh—?"

"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."

And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."

You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.

"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"

Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"

And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.

Epilogue

"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"

Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.

"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."

"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."

"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"

As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.

"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"

[theminecraftbee]

There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:

He is dreaming.

It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.

He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.

He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.

"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.

We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.

We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.

"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.

"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"

"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."

"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.

Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."

"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"

Are you ready to play?

Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."

The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."

(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)

The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.

"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.

Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.

"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.

When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.

Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--

I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.

Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.

Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?

Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.

Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."

"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.

"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.

"What?" Martyn says.

We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?

"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.

Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.

Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.

"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."

"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"

It's your bet.

"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"

You're no fun.

Is that what you really want?

"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."

"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"

"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."

The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.

Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--

"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.

"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."

"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.

"Please," Grian says.

The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.

Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.

He stares at the numbers.

Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."

The dealer nods.

"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.

If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.

Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"

"Why?" Martyn says again.

Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.

"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"

Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.

The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.

The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.

The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.

"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"

"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."

Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.

"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."

Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.

Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.

"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."

Two of spades.

He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.

"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.

The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--

The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.

Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.

Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.

The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--

"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"

THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.

(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)

YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.

There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.

AND THAT IS ME.

Martyn stares Death in the eyes.

Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.

He does not sleep again for a long time.

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, yn kinda meanish to han, yn feeling like a burden

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWO ▪︎ LIFE BEYOND THE WALLS (6.9k)

For being the guy who saved your life, Han Jisung turned out to be a pain in the ass.

It had been about three months since joining this post-rebellion group, if you could call it that. They reside in a small, fenced-in town, only about one intersection big. Before you'd been taken to where a group of them were camping out, waiting for the right time to strike the QZ for resources. Although you couldn't commend their actions, you understood them.

Fewer people lived in the town than there were in your squad, only six of them. You'd met Jeongin long before when he was a cadet with you, disappearing soon after. No one knew what happened to him, assuming he'd been bitten or died, but now you knew the truth, and Seungmin knew too. He'd stayed by you during your recovery, teasing you relentlessly about almost dying; you knew it was because the thought of that scared him.

Chan turned out to be exactly what Han had called him when you first met; the captain, although he didn't like to be called that, much more humble than some people. You'd properly met Chaeryeong after being able to leave the tent, learning she was the other sniper. Everyone had roles; Chan the leader, Chaeryeong and Han the snipers, and Jeongin the healer. The others you met were Hyunjin, a skilled fighter with liquid movements, and Felix, a recent recruit training next to Jeongin to learn medicine the best he could out here; a bit of a pacifist, but will do what's needed.

The first couple of weeks were tough; learning to move around with a broken limb was a first for you. Sure, you'd sprained your wrist or your ankle here and there during training, but you'd never had your leg crushed by a piece of wall before. Lucky for you, it was below your knee and a surprisingly clean break, but the healing process would be long regardless. Everyone here treated you hesitantly, unsure of your intentions. Seungmin was different, instantly earning respect from what Jeongin had told the group about him previously.

To say you felt like an alien was an understatement. After the first month it became clear that returning to your QZ was no longer an option. It had been too long, they wouldn't trust you anymore. You only brought up going back once during your first week there.

"How long do you plan on having us?" You'd asked Chan.

It was night and you were sitting on a pull out chair staring into a campfire in the backyard of his house. There were enough houses on this small intersection for the six of them, an extra reserved for people passing through.

"As long as you want or need to stay," He replied, looking over at you.

You couldn't meet his gaze. "I don't know if I can go back."

"Why not?" He asked. "It's not too late. You can say you escaped us and found your way back if they question you."

"I know, it's not that." You considered leaving it there, unsure how to phrase the next part. "The mission we were sent on wasn't supposed to go down like that. We were told it was a search and rescue and that most of the infected had left, but clearly that wasn't the case." You finally looked at him, face blank. "They sent us out to die."

He nodded, taking in the information. When he said nothing, you continued.

"Maybe my place isn't there anymore. I didn't grow up there like most others and never really felt like I belonged there," You sighed. "Then I met Seungmin and that changed, kind of. I always had Minho, but- ugh. It's complicated."

Waving a hand in the air, you shook your head.

"He's your family," Chan said slowly.

"He left me," Your words came out harsher than you expected. "And now I don't know what to think. Not to mention Minho knew what we were walking into and said nothing."

"Ouch," Chan hissed. "How does Seungmin feel about all of this?"

"Pretty sure he's glad to be out of there," You laughed. "He never liked it very much, always challenging authority subtlety... and not so subtlety."

You ended up sleeping on Chan's couch that night, too tired and heavy with emotions to return to your shared house with Seungmin; he knew you too well not to press.

Nobody said anything, just accepted you into the group after the first month passed and it became clear you weren't leaving. After that, people started interacting with you more, making small talk here and there. Your respect grew for each member the more you heard about their struggles to survive. It turned out the only one with experience in a quarantine zone outside of yourself, Seungmin, and Jeongin, was Hyunjin, which made sense to you as he had similar fighting techniques to the ones you've learned, but he's made them his own.

"I left when I was sixteen," He said one night while visiting you to cook dinner; "a proper welcome" as he put it. "Never looked back. Chan found me half dead in the back of a convenience store."

"He has a habit of doing that, huh?"

"Yeah," He laughed. "He really does."

Cut to present day where you're laying in bed early in the morning, Hyunjin lying next to you in the sun, rays reflecting in his dark eyes as he stares at you. He'd stayed over after another late night cooking session.

"Good morning," He smiles, propping himself up with his arm and using the other to trace a finger over your bare shoulder blade.

"Morning," You mumble, face half smushed into the pillow.

Not much later, you were dressed and ready for the day, leaving to meet up with Jeongin to check your leg. By now it was pretty much healed, but still aching. You haven't been allowed to leave town at all, staying back to rest. Hyunjin trailed a short distance behind you, humming a tune.

"Hey lovebirds," Seungmin teases as you step onto the porch, rolling your eyes. "Sleep well? Did you sleep?"

"Shut up," You playfully smack his shoulder, stopping next to him with a hand on your hip. "Jeongin inside?"

"Where else would he be?" Seungmin says. "Chan's there, Han too."

Groaning, you head in, knocking lightly so you don't startle anyone. You didn't have a problem with Han exactly, but he definitely had one with you. Since you arrived, he seems to have made it his life mission to annoy you, questioning your every move. It only got worse once you and Hyunjin became closer.

"What's going on?" You ask, joining the three in Jeongins dining room.

Chan looks up from the map displayed in front of him, eyeing Hyunjin as he sits next to you. A lot went unsaid about relationships within the group, but it wasn't hard to tell something was going on. In all your years in the QZ, you'd never acted upon feelings for someone in fear of rejection, but with him, it felt easy. You didn't need to say anything about your lack of experience in this field, he somehow just understood.

"A transmission came in today," Chan starts, pointing at a red mark on the map. "This is where we estimate it came from. Problem is, that it's in the middle of a huge city. There's no way we can get in there without detection. Chances are they're already dead by the time we get there."

"What was the message?" You ask, eyebrows furrowed. "Search and rescue? Resources? Info?"

"...yes?" Chan says. "First it explained the group was trapped in the lower level of a hospital when out on a medical run. They reached where they needed to be, but there are too many infected roaming the halls for them to get out the way they came, and the other way is blocked."

"Shit, that's not good." Hyunjin's eyebrows raise.

"No, it's not. We caught wind of this, but I'm pretty sure it was meant for a QZ to hear, not us. If we can get there first, we can gather the supplies we need as well since we're starting to run low." Chan straightens, analyzing the map. "We'd all have to go."

Thinking about it, this doesn't seem like the type of plan Chan would usually make, nor the kind of transmission he'd respond to. This was dangerous, risky; you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't put his people in that kind of situation for something so simple. There has to be more.

"This is a bad idea," You say, breaking the silence.

"Correct," Jeongin speaks for the first time since you've entered his home. "A terrible one."

He side-eyes Chan who ignores the look.

"These people might have information," Chan says carefully. "About... about Hannah."

Jeongin and Hyunjin startle at this, but only Hyunjin speaks. "Hannah? You really think so?"

"I think it's possible."

"Then we have to go, don't we?" Han looks around the table at everyone's faces.

"It's not that simple," Chan says, shaking his head. "Someone like her was described to be badly hurt; the whole reason they had to go to this hospital in the first place. It might not even be her. That's why I need you all to convince me this isn't worth it."

"Who's Hannah?"

Everyone looks at you.

"Um, sorry." You look away, picking at your nails. "Should I not ask that?"

"No, no, you can." Chan breathes. "She's my sister."

"Oh."

"Oh," Chan repeats. "'Oh' is right."

"How far is this city?" You ask. "And how sure are you it's her?"

"About three hours away from here, but we only have enough gas for half of that." Chan finally sits, running a hand through his short hair. "There's a gas station not too far we can walk to and we can siphon some from cars we pass. As for Hannah," he sighs and puts his arm out to reveal a tattoo on his wrist. "We have matching ones. Hers a star and mine the moon."

"Y/n and I can go to the gas station," Hyunjin volunteers. "I'm sure she'd love to get out now that she can."

You nod eagerly, watching Chan move his arm back to his lap.

"Are you sure you're up to this Y/n?"

"Yes, completely."

"Okay," Chan looks over to Jeongin. "Check her over and make sure she's okay to go first. And you, " He points to Han. "Go with them."

You suppress a groan.

"I mean, that's why she's here in the first place," Jeongin mumbles. "You just got here earlier than expected."

At the same time, Han says, "Aye-aye, Captain."

"My bad," Chan laughs sheepishly. "I'll see myself out then."

"Y/n, get over here." Jeongin stands, starting toward another room. "Hyunjin, Han, you stay there. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. You understand."

Hyunjin grumbles as you leave, a smile forming on your face. You have something good with him.

-

"Will there be infected, do you think?"

Hyunjin pouts his lips a bit, thinking for a moment. "No, there shouldn't be. I went on a patrol that passed through here two weeks ago with Han and we cleared out a few stragglers. There are tripwires in the surrounding perimeter that we put up that day too, to try and prevent more from showing up."

This is the first real chance you've had to see outside of the small town the group has built for themselves. Not far from town is the gas station, then further down, a bigger town. You'd asked once why they didn't fence in the bigger town in case they grew in numbers and couldn't house everyone, Chan saying it was all they could do at the time. And since then, they've only lost people.

One of the people they've lost must have been Hannah. As much as you want to know what happened to her and how they got separated, you didn't press Chan. He'd tell you if he wanted to and when it was important. Nobody really mentioned anyone else, too painful to relive the memories. You figured you were lucky. The closest you've become to losing someone was when Jeongin went missing, but even then, you barely knew him. Then there were your parents, but you were young and don't remember much of them.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm?" You look up at Hyunjin, sunlight highlighting his soft features. "How do you people always know when I'm deep in thought?"

"You squint and angle your head." Hyunjin comes to a stop, hand finding yours. "And you furrow your eyebrows. It's really cute."

Hyunjin looks back at Han, who seems to be lost in his own thoughts. His other hand traces your brow bone down to your jaw and ends at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. Smiling, you start to lean in, and he does too. Lips barely touching yours, he pulls away at the sound of a vehicle approaching. You move apart and he pulls you to the side of the road, stepping slightly in front of you.

"Need a ride?" The truck slows next to you, window rolled down to reveal a man just older than you, maybe around Chan's age.

"Nope, we know where we're going," Hyunjin answers.

The man looks between you two and smirks. "Don't get too distracted out here, you never know what might get you."

With that, he drives away, a funny feeling left in your chest.

"What was that about?" You almost forgot Han was with you.

"Nothing," You say. "Let's keep going."

Han rolls his eyes and Hyunjin jogs up back next to you, hand on the small of your back. The feeling of his hand is a small comfort, easing the nerves in your belly. Not many people passed through this part so you didn't know how to take his warning. If he meant the infected, did he not notice your weapons? You're more than prepared for a fight.

There's a break in the trees signalling the gas station; a small building, once partially a coffee chain for people stopping in. The windows are broken and the door is gone, grass overgrown in the front, and years of wear and tear all over. An abandoned car sits by a pump, tires missing and windshield shattered. Inside is a skeleton in the driver's seat, body curved over the steering wheel. The trunk is popped open revealing an empty suitcase. Poor bastard was probably trying to get the hell out of here before things got bad.

"I'm gonna take a look inside!" You shout, already walking through the doorway.

"There won't be much, we cleared it out when we first found this place!" Han shouts back, getting to work on one of the pumps outside.

There are a few aisles of convenience items inside and to the right, most of which are cleaned out or have been damaged. Glass crunches under your feet as you walk around the bare aisles, scanning as you go. There really isn't much; Han was right for once.

"Oh, but there's this," You mutter, picking up a faded purple box near the back. "I'm sure Chaeryeong will be happy I found these."

You tuck the box into your backpack, the zipper stuck.

"You're kidding, right?"

The backpack refuses to open, so you sit down and struggle some more. Your back is facing the front, the counter to pay directly next to you with the aisle on the other side tightly. After a few moments of fighting and coming close to defeat, it unzips.

"Thank you!" You whisper.

Standing and spinning around, you're met with a decaying body facing away from you. Immediately, you cover your mouth, crouching down and moving slowly toward the back to the station. It begins to turn, limping with each step. You've successfully moved around the side, inching closer to the middle until you can see the door, now directly in front of you. If the infected continues down where it assumes you were, you should be able to leave and get to the others before alerting it.

Of course, that's not at all what happens.

Making a beeline to the door, you're stopped by another infected coming from your right. You collide with it, falling on your hands into the broken glass. The cuts sting, the infected tripping over your crouched body with a crash, and the other limping over to you. Thankfully this one is slow, but the one who tripped over you is already getting up as you examine your bleeding hands. You could call out for help, but if there are more, you don't want them to get to Hyunjin.

You pull out a knife, standing up fully to take on the infected beings, focusing on the fast one. It comes at you, wailing and arms swinging. You're able to dodge, a quick jump left into the aisle and a swipe to its arm drawing blood. Grabbing another knife by the tip, you aim at the limping one, throwing it expertly into the skull with a squelch. Gross.

As you're distracted, the one you swiped pulls around the other side to your back, lunging forward. Landing on your stomach, you're not in a position to fight back, pinned to the ground by surprisingly strong arms. Another wail escapes its lips close to your ear.

This is it, you think. I'm dying in the middle of a gas station convenience store. No wonder Hyunjin and I were so drawn to each other.

The full body weight of the infected falls on top of you, stealing your breath away.

"How many times am I gonna have to save your ass?" Han grunts as he pulls the body off of you, grabbing your arm to help you up.

You take it back. "I was doing fine."

"Two seconds away from being breakfast is fine?" Han beams. "Then I'm doing amazing!"

"Next time, let the zombie eat my face so I don't have to listen to you, okay?" You get close to his face, personal space be damned.

"Yeah, maybe I will." His eyes narrow. "Then I don't have to listen to you either. Win-win situation."

"Guys?" Hyunjin appears in the doorway. "Han, back away. Y/n, what the fuck?"

You look at him as Han steps back, arms crossed. "What?"

"Why didn't you call for help?" He looks betrayed. "I was right there-"

"I was handling it!" You whine.

"You weren't handling shit-"

"Han, not so respectfully, shut the fuck up. Step out." Hyunjin enters the store, leaving the doorway open, Han reluctantly leaving you two alone. "Didn't want him to hear this, but he had a point. The minute they both came after you, you should have yelled."

"Everything was fine until I got pinned," You argue, not meeting his eye. "And at that point, it would've been too late... usually."

Hyunjin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm fast, it's why Chan keeps me around. I would have made it to you in time."

"Nuh-uh," You say, head snapping up to look at him. "Chan thinks of you as family, that's why he 'keeps you around'."

"We're not talking about me right now-"

"I think we are actually," you say, running your fingers gently down his arms. You take his hands in yours. "Do you really think that? You think he only values you for your skills?"

"Obviously," Hyunjin scoffs. "It's literally the apocalypse, there's no point in real relationships when you might die the next day."

You bite back a mean comment, taking a deep breath. "Is that what you think of us?"

"What? No! No, that's not-" He takes a hand back to run it through his hair. "I just mean he doesn't need me like that. I'm useful, but replaceable."

"Not to him," Your words soften. "Not to any of us, even Han."

Hyunjin laughs, head hanging down and your foreheads touch. All you do for a while is stand there with each other, urging your feelings to melt through your skin and seep into his, make him understand he's more than just a tool to be used.

"Hey, you guys done?" Han says, nerves leaking into his voice.

"What's wrong?" You let go of Hyunjin, walking outside.

"Those guys are back."

A couple of trucks pull in, one stopping directly in front of you. For a second you think he'll hit you, parking a few inches away from your feet. The same man from earlier steps out and closes the door, hard, leaning against it. He looks at the three of you standing together, taking extra time to take you in. Beside you, you can feel Hyunjin tense, and you grip your knife tighter.

"You three still here?" The man pulls out a crushed pack of cigarettes, lighting one up. "Any gas left? We're running low."

"Nope, just grabbed the last of it." Han lifts the red gas can. "There's another station about twenty minutes from here."

Another man emerges from the other side of the truck, rifle in hand. The one smoking comes closer and you finally move away from the truck, planning to walk away before he tries anything. There's another truck parked on the far side of the station and three more men with guns step out, blocking your path. You turn around, nearly running into the first man.

"Why go that far when we can take yours?" He blows a puff of smoke in your face and you barely hold back a cough, eyes stinging. "Hand it over."

You grab the can from Han before he can protest, sticking it out to the man. He goes to grab it, but you move away at the last second with a smirk. It dangles by your side.

"For what?" You tilt your head.

"This isn't up for debate, little lady," He scowls. "Now hand it over."

He makes another move to grab it, but you swing it behind you, angling your back toward Hyunjin who takes it from you. Growing irritated, the man grabs your wrist to discover it empty, roughly pulling you forward. A body comes between you and him, landing an attack on his arm and he lets you go.

"Get your hands off her," Han growls, pushing him back.

Beside you, Hyunjin stumbles forward. The gas can is no longer in his hand and you catch a glimpse of it in the hands of one of the other men, gun poking Hyunjin in the back. You feel the tip of another gun in your own and soon enough all are pointed at your group, fingers on the triggers. Han still has his arm up, taking in the threatening circle of people.

"I suggest you back up." The man drops his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the toe of his boot.

There's nothing you can do except let the group walk away, gas can in hand, and return to the others. Chan won't be happy, but at least you'll be alive. You watch Han's fists clench by his side, no doubt resisting the urge to throw a punch or two. It doesn't take long for them to get back in their vehicles and drive off, leaving you defeated.

-

"You're kidding."

Chan runs a hand over his face, staying put on his chin with the other on his hip. He breathes slowly, walking to the window of his kitchen, and leans back on the counter. Although his body is facing you, his eyes are focused on something beyond you. The sunset peaks through the curtains behind him and you shift uncomfortably to cover the blinding light with his body.

On your left is Hyunjin, head hanging low, and Han stands on your right with his chin high in the air. If you look down, you can see his hands shaking.

"We had no choice." You speak first, holding Chan's gaze the best you can. Having experience in disappointing higher-ups in your QZ made it easier to be present in this conversation.

"You had a choice," He says. "Instead of going in the store Han specifically said was cleared out, you could have helped with collecting the gas and gotten out of there quicker."

A shiver runs down your back under his gaze. "It's kind of hard to help when we only have one can."

Chan exhales sharply, crossing his arms. You can tell he knows you have a point and doesn't want to admit it, opting to stay silent and let you continue.

"Besides, it wasn't completely cleared out," You say, digging through your bag to present what you found. "Not that it matters for you guys, but I'm sure Chaeryeong will be happy I found these. So if you need me, I'll be at her house."

You know you shouldn't walk out without being dismissed, but you can't handle the suffocating air of Chan's kitchen any longer. There's no protest as you leave, but can hear Han try to argue as the door shuts behind you. As much as you want to head straight to Chaeryeong's house, you take a detour to your own first. Seungmin should still be with Jeongin figuring out the best route to the hospital, so you should be in the clear to cry on your couch alone.

Dust particles shine in the light of the old house you now share with Seungmin, greeting you like an old friend. It makes your nose itch and your eyes dry, sniffling hard as you lean against the door. Saying you were overwhelmed would be an understatement. This was your first proper mission here and you fucked it up. Since coming here, all you've done is be a burden while Seungmin has actually been valuable to the group, mapping out routes to avoid squad patrols and leading them to better resources. And what have you done besides lay in bed with a broken leg? You're useless to them. Soon enough they'll realize and cast you out.

A sigh escapes your lips as you slide down the door, tossing your bag to the side. Will there ever be a day you don't overthink every action, every word you say? Probably not, but maybe with enough time you'll just stop caring, stop listening to that voice in the back of your head. Or maybe it will win. Only one way to find out; keep going.

-

"Rise and shine!" A jacket is tossed over your face, effectively waking you. "Get out of bed, we're leaving."

"Huh?" You groan, sitting up. Your bones crack and your neck is stiff from where you fell asleep on the couch. "Leaving? And what are you doing here?"

Han walks back in front of you, taking a seat on your coffee table. The wood creaks and for a second you imagine it snapping, sending the man in front of you onto his ass, making you snort.

"What?"

"Nothing." You wave off his look of annoyance. "Answer my questions first."

His eyes narrow. "Chan sent me over to get you. We're heading to the hospital today, all of us. He said you better not drag us down more than you already have."

Oh.

"Let's get a move on," He stands, a strange expression on his face after seeing yours drop. "Everyone's already in the truck. You'll have to sit in the back with me."

"Yeah, okay." You don't have it in you to argue.

Taking one last look around the house you've been living in for the past few months, you wonder what you would be doing if you had gone back to your QZ. You pick up the jacket Han threw; it's one of yours, a worn black denim with a patch to signify your rank on the breast pocket. It wasn't mandatory, but you liked people knowing where you stood when you walked around in casual clothes, even if it wasn't a high ranking. There was a sense of belonging when you saw others in uniform with their matching patches, always able to blend in with a crowd.

You rip the patch off.

"Done?" Han stands in the open doorway, having watched you make this silent choice.

All you do is nod, slipping the jacket on as you walk past him. It's early, the sun not quite rising yet; morning dew wets your boots as you jog to the truck. Chan is standing by the driver's side door, no doubt waiting on you and Han. Inside is Seungmin in the passenger's side, and Chaeryeong, Hyunjin, and Jeongin in the back, although you can barely see them through the tinted windows. With a nod to Chan, you throw your bag over and hop in the back. There's a little window behind where you settle yourself, opening it to poke Hyunjin in the back of the head.

"What-" He shifts in his seat, disgust leaving his face when he sees it's you. "I thought you were Han. Did you want to sit in here? We can kick Jeongin out-"

"No, you will not." Jeongin locks his door and you laugh.

"I'm fine here." The truck dips as Han hops over, sitting closer to the end. "Besides, if I get annoyed with him I can just throw him over."

Hyunjin makes eye contact with Han as he looks over at your words and your eyes follow. He's sitting with his gun over his lap, bag on the opposite side. It doesn't take long for Han to look away, shifting to face the road as Chan starts up the vehicle.

"Weird," You say, looking back at Hyunjin who rolls his eyes. "Sitting that way is gonna be uncomfortable now that we're moving."

"It's worth it if I'm talking to you," Hyunjin smiles. "Besides-"

"Y/n!" Felix bounds over the edge of the truck. "Looks like we'll be together this ride."

"Lix, you interrupted me," Hyunjin whines. "I was going to say, at least I won't be bored."

"We aren't boring," Jeongin chips in.

"Y/n is more entertaining." Hyunjin pouts.

You lean in, pressing a kiss onto his pouting face and soon enough he's smiling into you. When you break away, Hyunjin sighs and turns back around, the truck finally moving. Closing the small window, you get as comfortable as you can in the back, shifting your backpack behind you to use as a cushion. Having Felix join you let you relax a bit knowing he can keep Han distracted when he inevitably wants attention you won't give. If he wasn't such a little shit, you could actually be friends.

The roads Chan takes are bumpy and surrounded by trees, no sign of life around you, not that the infected would really fall under 'life'. For a while, things seem peaceful. You watch Felix's hair blow across his face as he leans back, eyes closed. Although you knew some would think your watching to be strange, you liked to be able to take in details of another person. The rise and fall of his chest and the way his lips are parted in a light sleep; the freckles dusting his face and the small scar running through his right eyebrow.

Looking at Han, you can see the way he fiddles with the strap of his bag laid next to him. He's too far to observe in great detail, but you see the way his eyes wander across the landscape, deep in his head. There's a moment you catch his breathing quicken and he sits up more, crossing his legs and placing a hand on each knee. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath through his nose and out of his mouth, repeating several times. You shouldn't be watching this.

"Hey, Han." You crawl over to him, sitting by his side. "What's going on in there?"

You point at his head and he looks at you strangely.

"What?" He moves away.

"You seem tense," You shrug. "How long do you think until we get there?"

Changing the subject appeared to be a better plan as Han returns your shrug. "I'd say we have about thirty more minutes until we run out of gas. Then we walk the rest of the way which'll take at least a few more hours than driving would have taken."

"Do you think they'll still be alive?" You ask quietly. "The people at the hospital?"

It's weird to think of all the experience the people around you have and your lack of it, knowing everything in theory but not in practice. Other than what was supposed to be your first mission outside of the QZ, you've never truly seen what the apocalypse has brought onto the world, not first-hand. The time before, when you were a child, you don't remember. You don't remember the harsh world your parents died to protect you from or the way they loved despite it all.

"Truthfully?" You nod. "...I don't know. I hope so. This means a lot to Chan, finding Hannah. He won't tell anyone, but we all know how much of a toll losing her took on him. We knew she wasn't dead, just.. gone, which is almost worse because who knows what she's been going through without us? And he blames himself, he always does for anything that happens to one of us."

There's nothing you can say to that, only nodding your head again. Everyone in this group cares so much, loves so much. How could you ever fit into that?

"Do you have siblings?" Han asks after a beat. "Back in your zone?"

Part of you thinks of Minho, who looked after who when no one else was there. "Not by blood."

"Who needs blood when you have soul?" Han looks at you, really looks at you. "You miss them."

"So what if I do-" You start, but the feeling of something missing sets in. You haven't even talked to Seungmin about missing Minho. "I... really fucking do. I miss him so much, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people."

He laughs at that, and you do too. "Because you don't care what I'll say back to you?"

"Hmm, true," You laugh again. "Sometimes I think about the fact I'll never see him again and it's like, that's cruel. The universe gives you someone only to rip them away without a goodbye. A glimpse of their face and boom, gone. Never to be seen again. He probably thinks I'm dead. He probably thinks you guys killed me." You pause, looking away from Han, focusing on the passing trees. "He never even came looking for me."

"Hey," Han places a hand on yours gently. "You don't know that. Maybe he's just looking in the wrong place."

All you can do is nod again, tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. It's not much later the truck slows down and you let go of Han's hand, crawling back to where you were before to grab your bag. This must be the part you start walking.

Chan is the first to step out of the vehicle, taking in your surroundings and examining a map on the hood of the truck. Jeongin and Seungmin join his side, mumbling amongst themselves. Hyunjin helps you out of the back, picking you up so you don't have to jump down. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Han looking at you again, but pay him no attention.

"You and him make up?" Hyunjin forces a smile and gestures toward Han.

"No," You say, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "We had a civil conversation and that was that."

"Good," Hyunjin smiles more genuinely this time, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to the front.

"We go straight for a while longer before hitting a main road. There's a highway we need to cross, so keep your weapons handy when we get to that part." Chan clears his throat. "Stay in pairs as we walk, I don't want anyone wandering off and getting lost."

A hand clasps yours; Hyunjin, of course. Chan takes the lead, Seungmin and Jeongin close behind, then Chaeryeong and Felix. Han trails slightly behind you, clearly not wanting to join you and Hyunjin, but not wanting to bother the others either. You make sure to look back every once in a while to ensure he's still there. As much as he and you may not get along, you know how much he means to the group, and that's enough to want to keep him safe.

By the time you make it to the highway, your legs are aching from the distance. Abandoned cars litter the large street, dirty and broken, relics of the past. Here, the wind is stronger and you hold on tightly to Hyunjin. He switches from holding your hand to hooking arms, feeling more secure. The highway groans loudly from the wind and you have to crouch down to stop yourself from falling over the edge.

"Maybe we should stay put until the wind dies down!" Chaeryeong calls out, brushing hair out of her face. "It's not safe to continue!"

"As long as we walk in the middle, we should be fine!" Han passes you and Hyunjin, eyeing you as he does.

"No, Chaer is right," Chan stops the group. "Just for a little while. Then we can continue down the middle."

Biting his lip, and no doubt an argument, Han sits with his back against the van ahead of you with Chaeryeong and Felix. Hyunjin has an arm around you again, holding you close to him. The door to the car you're using as a shield is slightly ajar, and you can see the front seats are empty.

"Hey," You turn to Hyunjin. "Wanna sit inside? I think I can pry this open."

"Sure, it'd be a hell of a lot more comfortable than concrete," He laughs.

Sticking a larger knife into the opening, you pull back with your full body weight. The door comes swinging open, knocking you back against another car.

"Ta-da," You rub your head where it hit the opposing door. "Get in."

As Hyunjin starts to climb over the passenger seat, a blur of bodies comes tumbling out of the car, screaming and limbs flailing. It doesn't take long to register the infected attacking Hyunjin, and you're quick to grab the knife that you used for the door.

"Get the fuck off of him!" You shout, hopping onto it's back, wrapping an arm around it's neck to keep it from biting.

Stabbing now is too risky, too much of a chance of hitting Hyunjin with the way the infected is grabbing him. You kick it's arms, releasing the man under you and allowing him to roll to the side. The infected stands with you still on it's back, turning in harsh circles, and it takes everything in you to hold on. Your knife goes flying. As it attempts to scratch and grab at you, it begins getting closer to the edge.

"Someone shoot this thing!" You're starting to panic, unable to let go long enough to grab another knife.

Your bodies hit the edge, and you finally let go only to be caged in by the infecteds arms. It goes in for a bite, and you wrap your hands around its neck, holding it away the best you can. This thing is strong, teeth getting closer by the second. You're leaning half over the edge and your back cracks, which actually feels quite nice, but you're sure you'd enjoy it more if you weren't about to be breakfast.

Quick thinking, c'mon, where are you?

Bringing your leg up in the tight space between your bodies, you plant your foot on its chest and push, successfully getting its teeth away from you and-

And you're rolling over the edge. One hand barely latches onto the concrete wall, the rest of your body dangling over and you watch the infected looking down at you. Weird, the way it snarls and yells, but doesn't leap over or scratch at you or anything. You can hear shouting on the other side and the body falls limp, slipping over. As it falls, you twist your body so your shoulders hit the wall and the body moves right past you. Your arm is twisted painfully in the process, but you figure that's better than falling to your death, so. Two hands grab your slipping fingers and you reach up blindly, another set of hands helping you over.

"Thanks for the help guys," You say, voice dripping in sarcasm as Chan and Hyunjin move past you.

No one answers, staring over where you were just hanging onto dear life. Chan's shoulders are tense, hand holding the edge until his knuckles turn white. He's shaking his head and when Hyunjin looks at him, you see his mouth is wide open.

"I've never seen this many of them in one place," Chan speaks, and you join them.

"Oh," You gasp. "Oh my god."

Hundreds, if not thousands, of infected cover the highway running underneath the one you stand on, all heading in the same direction. The groaning you heard earlier comes not from the giant bridge, but from the bodies below, wailing and crying.

"Good thing we don't have to go down there, yeah?" Felix chimes in as the rest gather with you.

"Yeah," Chan says, eyebrows furrowed. "We need to keep moving."

---

notes ▪︎ so... continuing on foot, that'll go well, right? ...right?????

─── taglist (18+) : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @quokkabite @linosalwayslinos @reapers-lover @hyunjinslittlestar

[nymphybae]

Rainstorms with Alastor

It's unusual for hell to rain, yet this time the droplets grow heavier and thunders struck loud enough to make you unease. You shivered, covering your ears as you tried to focus on the television in front of you. Everybody else was asleep except for yourself, how can you when the storm reminded you of how you met your life's end.

The tv lost its signal and soon powered down, leaving you in an unsettling silence in the lounge room. You pursed your lips, feeling restless as you watch the rain pour from the window.

Footsteps were heard, coming closer into the room. You didn't need to second guess who it was, facing the red haired demon who looked down at you with a sly grin.

"Can't sleep my dear?"

"Yeah.. I just-" A loud thunder storm cut your sentence, immediately putting you in an anxious stance. Your hands were shaking, hugging yourself as an attempt to calm the pulsing in your heart.

Alastor puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a faint squeeze. "Come with me."

You were a little curious, wondering why he's leading you to your own room.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked, pulling the chair of the tea table you had next to the window. 

"I'd love it." You smiled as he motioned for you to sit. 

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured the equipments needed for the drink.

"This is my favourite batch of tea, it's aroma is just purely sweet as if it came straight from heaven, ha!" he brewed the pot with his dark magic. 

"Here." 

You took the cup, thanking him as you took a sip of the warm tea. Who would've thought the caffeine would help you so much. "It's really good! No wonder you order this batch every other month."

Alastor sat across you, holding a cup himself. He had a pleased smile on his face. "Glad to hear. Now, tell me what's troubling you so late at night?"

Should you really tell him? You figured it was too silly, especially for the radio demon himself. Out of all things that could displease you in hell are the vigorous sounds from outside.

"I hate thunderstorms." You admitted. He didn't say anything, as if waiting for you to continue so you did. You took a deep breath. "It reminds me of the little remnant memories I have left of my death. I lived below mountains, you see. My brothers locked me out of the house because I turned in on our family’s illegal trading to the police- which I obviously didn’t. Then a really terrible thunderstorm came, wiped out most of our crops and farmland. The heavy wind threw me down a lake and I drowned till water filled my lungs.” You took another sip of the tea. “I guess it wasn’t the death, it was the fact that my own blood betrayed me only because of their own assumptions, and I end up losing everything in the end. But they got to live, probably thinking that I left and never came back.” Your hand formed a fist at the thought. It was a short silence for a bit until Alastor spoke.

"Hah, Men.” He poured more tea into his cup. You chuckled at his remark. Who taught him that sort of phrase?

“When exactly did you die again?”

You hummed in thought. “Decades ago.. I can’t recall.” 

Alastor’s permanent smile remains plastered on his face. “Men are soulless and willingly disobedient during my time! There were always reports of disloyalty in newspaper. I would know, I broadcasted them in my radio show!” 

You clicked your tongue playfully. “So much for someone who was a serial killer.”

His grin grew. "Haha, But I was not a vicious idiot darling!" 

“Oh? Did you happen to have any experiences with men in your li-“

A lightning struck at the hotel's electric circuit.  electricity buzzed and every power in the hotel was cut off. The only bit of light in your room came from the windows. 

"Shit, see this is why i fucking hate the rain." You panicked, shuffling around in the dark until a pair of hands grasped you from moving and hitting the furnitures. You look up and saw his glowing red eyes. 

When you finally stood still, he pulled his hands off from you. "Don't worry yourself. I'll take care of this." 

"Wait- You can't leave me here." 

Alastor hums a familiar tune, holding up his cane as he gave you his arm to take.

You hesitated at first, taking his arm before you both teleported to his radio station. 

"Why are we here?" You asked, looking around his personal building.

"Who did you think manages the electricity here? I can't let outsiders control our power supply, especially that excuse for a television head!" He opens a large electrical box, taking a glance at all of the smoked up wires. You waited there awkwardly, covering your ears in preparation for the next thunder strike. 

"You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you~" he sung to himself, working on the wires. 

"Frankie Valli's a classic." You spoke out. He's been humming the song for the whole week now.

“Couldn’t agree more darling! Apologies if it’s bugging you. I suppose the song is stuck in my head for some time.” he turned on the said music on his radio.

“How ironic! I remember my last theatre show was me dancing to this song.” You tapped your feet to the beat.

Alastor walks over to you, taking both of your hands that were covering your ears. “Let’s see if those dance moves are still in tact.” 

The music swept through the room as they danced together, moving enthusiastically while you try to hold in your laughter.

I love you baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you baby. to warm a lonely night.

I love you baby, trust in me when I say

You felt warmth spread throughout your entire being as Alastor spun you around. All the anxiousness from the on going storm washed away as you lead the dance, guiding him through a series of steps.

And there, in the midst of the music and the rhythmic beat, he saw something in you that he had never seen before. A determination, a drive, and a passion that left him chuffed.

The music faded away, and so did the rainstorm. You were quite pleased at this, looking at Alastor with a bright smile. "That was fun. Didn't even realized the power went back on halfway through the dance."

He tilt his head, planting a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. "It's been a pleasure. I suppose now you'll feel much better to lay off in bed?"

You nodded. Why of course, as from now on the heavy thunderstorms will only remind you of this unforgettable night with your beloved co worker.

[doberbutts]

One of the things that really confuses me (I'm a cis woman of color) is this doubling down on the idea that Black men aren't oppressed because they're men, they're oppressed because they're Black, gay men aren't oppressed because they're men, they're oppressed because they're gay, trans men aren't oppressed because they're men, they're oppressed because they're trans, etc. It feels like people are being intentionally obtuse. You can't separate my identity as a POC from my identity as a woman. I am treated the way I'm treated because I'm a woman of color, those two things work together. That's where discussions of intersectionality originated. So to say you can separate a privileged identity from an oppressed one is just.... not how anything works?

I constantly see "masculinity isn't criminalized/demonized, Blackness, queerness, transness are" and it's like.... no, that's not how this happens. Marginalized men face specific oppression based on the intersection of their identities. It seems like lately people are willing to understand that for women but not willing to for men and I just don't know how we make any progress if radfem rhetoric has become so pervasive that people are refusing to see lived realities rather than some abstract hypothetical they've come up with.

Personally I think this is due to (white) people seeing and liking black theory that they personally agree with or that makes sense to be applied to their own lives, and then cut out all the parts that are inconvenient for them to have to reconcile. Much like how many, many, many black feminists who are cis women have said "hey, white feminists, stop it with the all men are rapists thing, it actively contributes to black men getting lynched for crimes they didn't commit because it gets weaponized unfairly against our brothers" and white feminists collectively forgot how to read and abandoned their listening skills while still praising other parts of black feminism that talk about domestic violence and sexual assault and oversexualization and reproductive rights and rightly taking black men to task for their continued complacency in this.

The phrase "intersectionality" originated in black feminist theory. I do not trust any white person to fully understand black feminism when they use it as a bludgeon to make the inconvenient bits be quiet. Much of what is on this blog is black feminism. It is inconvenient for white people to have to consider how their words and actions may harm people of color while still lifting themselves up.

As you have said, you cannot separate the "of color" from the "woman" parts of your identity. You are a woman of color. That changes how both sexism and racism works against you in a system that is both sexist and racist. I, in the same manner, cannot separate the "trans" from the "man"- if I were not a man, I would be a woman. I am AFAB, if I am a woman, I am not trans. There is no "you experience this because you are transgender, not because you are a man". In order to be a man, in my body, I have to be transgender*. Just like there is no "you experience this because you are black, not because you are a man". I am a black man. The black experience is inherently, often forcibly, gendered. I can tell you exactly how people treating me changed in a "before" and "after". I can tell you that yes, some of it absolutely stems from the "man" part, they treat me this way because I am a black man.

But people often misunderstand intersectionality to be, exclusively, axis of oppression. And so they say, well learn intersectionality, men aren't oppressed and thus it's not an axis of oppression to combine. But that ignores that some men are oppressed, marginalized men are oppressed and often with a very gendered slant. And it ignores that, like how you cannot separate the "woman" from the "of color", neither can you do that with men.

Men are not the default. They are slightly less than half the population, same as women.

*re: in order to be a man in my body I must be transgender; yes, I am intersex. However I have been out as transgender for 17 years, and discovered I am intersex 6 months ago. So for me, that is very much the case. For other intersex people who were assigned female at birth, that may not be the case. This is something that works on an individual level but cannot be broadbrushed as there are many different opinions among intersex people regarding our cisgender vs transgender status.

[angelic-dew]

Hi!! I don't mean to be a bother, but could I possibly request rengoku and tengen (without wives and separately done!) smut hcs please? I understand if you don't do it! stay healthy 🤍

# smut headcannons !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 💌 ୧・author's note :: sure anon! I hope these are okay, I'm not the best smut writer qnq also! sorry for the huge delay, I've been lacking motivation lately. when I get tengen's part done, I'll update it here!

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍫 ୧・pairing :: Uzui T. x afab reader [not completed yet.] ⁞⁞ Kyojuro R. x afab reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: mentions of female and male genitals. dirty talk. daddy kink. praise kink. size kink. biting. hickeys. slight mentions of rough sex. semi-public sex. fingering. raw dogging. spanking. ⁞⁞ 18+ content, children dni please. proofread.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔.

꒰🔥꒱. I see Rengoku being into praising his precious lover in bed {consciously and subconsciously he does it}, he is a cinnamon roll after all, and a total sweetheart as a whole. Our beloved Umai King would also be extremely cautious with what he says; always taking into consideration your every action and signals with how you're feeling in bed. This time is precious to him and he takes it very seriously, always muttering phrases and short words of adoration and encouragement for your full enjoyment. Whispering ever so softly in your ear, always singing your praises to his heart's content.

꒰🔥꒱. Back in the Era Demon Slayer does take place in {1912-1926 || Taisho Era}, condoms did in fact exist, however, I believe Kyojuro prefers to go in fully raw for maximum pleasure as your walls tighten around him. That can translate to him wanting to prepare you a bit to take his entire length properly and with ease. He takes pride in prepping you, taking his time and lubing his fingers with some oil to make the process much easier.

꒰🔥꒱. He begins slow and gentle, soft to the touch; always treating you like some sort of dainty, delicate piece of porcelain throughout the process. Checking up on you at every moment as lewd cries of contentment escape from underneath your lips.

꒰🔥꒱. The flame Hashira does have a somewhat "rowdy" side to him. The thought of being able to do the deed with someone he loves ever so much really gets the blood flowing, to certain areas of course. So even though he's such a gentle sweetheart, he can still be rough in some subtle ways at times.

꒰🔥꒱. These can include bite marks along your body — hickeys and even light bruises peppering your breasts and neck; a few sprinkled along your collarbone area as well, as a finishing touch. It depends on what exactly is being done, but, he does tend to leave a few playful bite marks along your inner thigh area while giving you oral.

꒰🔥꒱. Because, let's face it, you know he's eating you out like there is no tomorrow. Rengoku is the Umai King after all, it's no surprise he can take that same talent of eating sweet potatoes and do the same to you, instead this time, he's eating out something that's definitely better than any food. He would ultimately prefer to give oral rather than receive, your needs come before his, always!

꒰🔥꒱. Rengoku is definitely an ass guy, don't try changing my mind. I see him loving to hold it within his palms gently, something about it just feels so enthralling that he can't even begin to come to his correct senses when he sees you in doggy style. That alone will make him pounce on you with little to no hesitation. Regardless of the size as well, he doesn't really care how big it is, once there's enough for him to grip and drool over as he pleases, it'll be a true treasure.

꒰🔥꒱. Kyojuro seems like the type to have a liking towards things smaller than him, so those rules will definitely apply to his lover as well. Especially if you're a bit shorter than the average person, bonus points to you right there, it only makes his size kink worsen each time. He simply adores the fact you're so tiny compared to him, yet so strong and able to take each, individual inch of his meaty cock every time; it makes him feel a sense of endearment per se. His little person's ability to feel all of him, honestly, makes him melt for you.

꒰🔥꒱. An alternative take on his size kink would also be a size kink, but you're bigger than him. He would have just as much adoration and love for you even if you were taller than him in just height alone. The cream of the crop that really gets him going has to be when he actually enters your warm hole. He practically dotes at the sight of your expressions as you tremble under his soft, loving touch. Despite your size difference, you're still extremely tight and sensitive to the touch — the Hashira is indeed fond of that.

꒰🔥꒱. He would most likely have a huge daddy kink as well. Of course, he wouldn't exactly mention it upfront, he would be a bit embarrassed to do so. I don't think he knows he has one until you call him it while he's ramming himself into one time. When you called him that, it almost made him feel a sense of power, but moreover, if he were to be frank, he could've felt himself get harder inside you from that word alone. Rengoku would definitely want you to say it more often; I firmly believe he would even imply it in his words as well while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

꒰🔥꒱. Sex position-wise, I see him having a preference for wanting to have a view of your angelic face while also being able to please you to the fullest, of course, there are a few exceptions like doggy style, but here's some in line with his preferred liking. So, mating press, missionary, cowgirl {reverse cowgirl at certain times}, g-whiz and the seashell, to name a few. Ideally, Kyojuro would like to do it in a place of privacy so he can focus on you and you primarily, always putting your needs first. However, if there ever came a time when you wanted him urgently, he wouldn't hesitate to take a risk. Whether that be behind a large building or a bathroom stall for a brief moment to have a quickie.

꒰🔥꒱. As I stated directly before, he has a particular fondness for ass, specifically yours, rather than anything else. So out of impulse he would spank you or leave slight bruising along your waistline as he holds onto you.

꒰🔥꒱. He doesn't spank you hard, it's usually a simple small slap, but from the moment you start asking/begging for more, just keep in mind, his normal sweet demeanour will change to something otherworldly; trust me, he will not hesitate to give you what you want by any means. Whether that being you want him to be rougher, harder or even leave more marks on you, he will make sure you're satisfied down to the last touch.

© yandere-smoothie :: please don't re-claim or translate my works without permission! <3

[homosekularnost]

Is there really going to be a sequel to fuckboy strategy??? ❤️🎉❤️

after months (?) of waiting to answer this im finally accepting the wip is never making it to ao3 BUT. it can go under keep reading i think

fuckboy strategy the sequel

Ratthi was the first human to acknowledge my drone.  "Oh, SecUnit is watching over you again!" 

He was addressing Gurathin, but still finger-gunned said drone, same as he'd done with the drone I had on him when he noticed it that morning. He added, "That's good! That means you made up?"

He phrased it like a question, because it clearly was a question. Among the humans on Preservation desperate to find out more about my brief and uncomfortable experiment with sex (which included all humans on Preservation, unfortunately), Ratthi was by far the worst at hiding his curiosity. Overse, who had been sitting next to Gurathin when Ratthi approached them, seemed to agree.

"Don't be nosy, Ratthi." She gave him a friendly elbow bump, then scooted so that he could join her on the shared bench. She leaned back, too, and followed his line of sight. "But, oh, that really is SecUnit's drone!"

Gurathin just grunted in acknowledgement, and continued not looking its way.

(I had to say Ratthi was the first human to acknowledge the drone, because Gurathin had noticed it hours ago.) 

Gurathin hadn’t acknowledged it (we were still not exactly talking) but he didn't throw a fit either, and since we were only now entering hour eight post me apologizing for stonewalling him after we had a (yikes) sexual encounter, I considered it a victory. He hadn't done anything interesting so far, which wasn't saying much because he rarely did. The most exciting bit of his day had been occurring just as Ratthi appeared, when Gurathin apologized to Overse for how moody he'd been two cycles prior.

(The whole conversation was painful to watch, and not just because said moodiness directly preceded and indirectly led to me showing up at his door and performing the saddest handjob in modern history. (Well. I couldn't verify that it was the saddest one, but I had done some research post-incident, and it had to be down there.) It turned out that it was an anniversary of a really traumatic event from his time in Corporate Rim, and that he hadn't been sleeping well as a result, and while we all agreed that this was no excuse for how he was towards his coworker, it did make the fact I vanished on him and then convinced him he'd made me feel violated a little worse.

And it was already pretty bad, so the situation was dire.)

Ratthi got invited because everyone liked having Ratthi around. I wondered if he'd get sent away, once they realized he couldn't help himself from snooping.

"I can feel you staring," Gurathin was presently saying.

Overse flicked Ratthi on the back of his head, and he averted his eyes comically. "Sorry!" he said at the ceiling. "It's just that — " He waved the free hand around. "I don't get how?"

"I don't think it gets that either," Gurathin said, same time as Overse said, "God, Ratthi, how many lesbians are you friends with again?"

Well. Mortifying. Ratthi floundered. 

"I mean!" Ratthi said. "That's different."

"Different how?" Overse asked.

"I don’t want to answer that." At least they were finding it funny. "You know I don't think about you guys having sex."

"Now that I do not buy." That was Pin-Lee. I was late to notice her approach, and rushed to withdraw my drone a little. (I got her to concede I was allowed to record things in public, as long as I didn't keep any audio, but she still glared at my drones if she saw them.)

"What's happening?" She was now sitting down in-between Gurathin and Overse. "Our IT guy looks unwell."

"Not much," Overse said. "Ratthi is just erasing the existence of stone tops."

"Oh, talking about the thing with SecUnit?" Pin-Lee did not even hesitate. Gurathin put his face in his hands, and Ratthi made a noise of protest. 

Gurathin said, "I don't think it'll appreciate getting assigned a stone top," and gestured towards my cowering drone.

Pin-Lee narrowed her eyes at it. "It can move, then."

Overse piped up, "Also, no offence, but I feel Pin-Lee's assumption has less to do with what she thinks it gets up to — "

" — and more with her thinking I'm a pillow princess?" Gurathin snorted into his hands.

"I'd find a more gender affirming way of saying it," Pin-Lee said, "But, yes."

I was too busy looking up what half of these terms meant to have an emotional reaction.

#

Pin-Lee pinged me later on in the day, presumably once the group had parted ways. She asked if she could drop by, and I was at a comfortable 94% performance reliability, so I said yes.

She knocked before entering, even though she saw the drone outside, which I assumed was her way of letting me set the pace.

"Come in," I called out.

She pushed the doors open, then closed the doors behind her.

"Hey," she said. "Watching anything good?"

I was watching season 872 of something called the L word. "Not sure." It had popped up when I searched the term bases for stone top.

She snorted. "Fair." Then, “I wanted to apologize.”

That got me to raise an eyebrow. I turned my face her way. "For what?" All I could think of was her glaring at my drones, but she loved doing that.

She exhaled. "The rest of us have known each other for a long time," she said. "So we know what each other is comfortable with. That's why we don't hesitate to make fun of each other for personal affairs." She bit her cheek. "And we should have kept more tact when it comes to you. Sex is insanely personal, even when — " She gestured towards me.

"Even when one is not a poor wounded construct?" I supplied.

She blinked. "Even when one is not a refugee from a corporation that denied it autonomy and privacy." She rolled her eyes. "But whatever. We’ll do better in the future."

I bit my lip. "It sounds like Gurathin should be the offended one." This serial made it seem like pillow princess was something of an insult.

"He's not, though." Pin-Lee snorted. "He's just embarrassed everyone from that survey now thinks he's into choking."

My face did a thing almost immediately. Pin-Lee took a second to process it.

"What,” she said. She seemed to be struggling to control her face. "What.”

I didn't even try to control my face.

"No way.” She cracked up. "SecUnit, you didn't."

I pulled my hood over my head, and said nothing.

“For your first time?!” she said, then seemed to remember her promise. “Sorry. I’m respecting your privacy. Just.” She cracked up again. “First time?!”

I was keeping this hood over my head forever. "I know how not to hurt a human."

"I bet you do." She was wiping at her eyes. "I mean, at least physically, huh?"

I kept tugging my hood closed. "Ouch."

She gave it one last snort. "Well." She said. "Um. I’m leaving now.”

I was safer in my hood, so I said nothing.

“Sorry again,” she called. “See you around.”

I waited until I heard the doors close to stop holding my breath. I also did a quick status report, just for the fun of it.

My performance ability was now at 89%. I put this down as another reason to never talk about sex with anyone, and continued playing my episode.

[daisyvisions]

Hi daisy, hope you're okay!!

Mini thought dump (I did do a fluff post about this) but thought I'd ask about a variation on it here~

I'm sure we've all heard of the phrase "the bigger they are, the harder they fall". Well imagine, you're with your mutual crush? or your bf? whichever is more fitting. And you're both teasing each other and somehow that exact phrase slips out of his mouth. And you're quick to say "either that's a lie, or you can't like me as much as you say you do,". A bit too quick for their liking.

Whilst it's clear you're joking, your partner raises a brow, as if daring you to continue, though the look in their eyes has darkened. When you don't speak, he asks, "sorry?" Still nothing. Imagine he takes a step towards you. One step too many for your liking. He doesn't give you much of a chance to scramble for words when he presses, "go on, baby. Tell me. What do you mean?"

One look at his face tells you it's too late for you to back down or sweet talk your way out. So instead, you remain firm, "exactly what I said. I can't imagine you could've fallen that hard, at least not if what they say is true."

Imagine, there's one more step taken to close the distance between you both. Except that step is taken by you. You look him sharp in the eyes, before continuing, "but only you'd be able to confirm. So do enlighten me," a daring hand reaches forward and hooks itself onto his waistband, "just how true is it?"

"You just never know when to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, do you?" Imagine, his fingers slipping through your belt loops before pulling you into his body (with very little effort, I might add). "Since you're so eager to know, I guess we should find out." He leans his face closer to you, your cheeks brushing as his voice sounds, low in your ear, "But I'll have you know, I'm no liar. Especially not with my likes and dislikes." His lips graze your cheek as he moves to meet your gaze, still speaking - you're fairly sure it's on purpose, "So I hope you're prepared because you..." his lips now ghosting yours, "I have a very special place for you," you're not sure if he also means it literally or not, but you're filled with both excitement and nervousness either way.

And rightly so. The way he takes you then and there casts away any doubts (real, jokes, and otherwise) you may have about the depth of his feelings for you. With every kiss, every lick, every thrust, every flick, he makes it known. You'd be surprised if even your neighbours weren't aware by the time he's through with you.As for size? Well, that clearly matters not when he's ever so skilled.

Question: I guess, who's most likely to go through this scenario and who'd fuck you because of their pride (e.g.: to prove their size) vs who'd fuck you so that you wouldn't ever question their feelings for you?

-☕️

god damn babe this- huh?! 😩 this is such a mood right now I swear I need it badly sdkjndsjknf OKAY moving on... to answer your question I think:

Most likely to fuck you because of their pride:

Haknyeon, Hyunjae, Younghoon, Eric, Changmin

Most like to fuck you so that you stop questioning their feelings:

Chanhee, Jacob, Sunwoo, Sangyeon, Juyeon, Kevin

[thickenmyblood]

Hi Maca, I hope you can answer my question about Damen’s previous love-sex life before Laurent.

I remember, there is this paragraph where is revealed that Damen came out while he was in college but only is reveled that he likes men, nothing specific about his sex experiences or anything.

“…He never really told them he liked men, the way Damen did, simply making out with a first-year guy in one of those college parties Nikandros used to drag them to. They had all thought it was a one-time thing, that it was the alcohol and the excitement of having passed his exams. Apparently, they were wrong.”

And now in chapter 19 I think its revealed that Damen was clueless or so ignorant about Laurents habits and whatever related to sex with men, and that make wonder if you could explain or give more details about Damen previous experiences.

I know you have stated in the same chapter these lines.

“He always has, ever since he got that first handjob halfway into being fourteen, through all the awkward and quick first times, through all the new awkward and quick first times with guys...”

but it seems that he was not very experienced and only had “firsts times.” with no further experiences to gain more understandings or to learn the basics mechanics.

Maybe I’m misinterpreting the paragraphs since English is not my native language, if that’s the case, please forgive, because you are a terrific writer, and the mistake is mine.

Any way thanks for your time and one more question, the books that Damen had read to understand Laurents and Nicaise behavior and trauma really exists or are based in real ones…

Thanks again for your time. And thanks for this fiction it’s really well written, engaging, you have the ability to capture your reader's emotions and imagination.

Ju_Katze.

hello!!! sorry for the late reply.

in hiuh, damen has had sex with men before laurent, but as you pointed out they were all "first times" in the sense that it was just hooking up (also, that quote is referencing things like "first time getting a blowjob from a guy, first time giving head yourself, first time fucking a guy".) you don't necessarily talk to a one-night stand about things like douching or prepping or the weird and toxic culture around not eating pre-sex that some people participate in. damen isn't stupid, but he is oblivious and ignorant about many things in this fic, and he doesn't really notice things (anything?) that escape the bubble of his comfort and experience (other examples include "the help" or waiters at restaurants and coffee shops, mental health issues, health issues in general like IBS or Celiac's, etc.)

additionally, you could use this bit of backstory to read how and why damen dating laurent was such a fundamental shift in his life and, especially, his friendships. we know nikandros has never liked laurent, and we know why, but it's also possible that nikandros and the entire friend group (aktis and elon, specifically) were not exactly bothered by damen "coming out" as bi because they saw it as a phase or as a sex-only thing. having casual sex with men is not the same as being in a committed relationship with one. which is why when laurent and damen break up, nikandros's options for damen are always women. i also think it's interesting that damen only considered dating a man seriously after his father was dead.

as for details about damen's previous experiences, they're not part of the story so they're not "canon", but I always imagined hiuh damen to be, essentially, a fuckboy (affectionate). he likes sex, he likes boys and girls, he likes other people knowing that he's good at things (and that includes sex). i like the idea that he started having sex when he was young (14) but that unlike what happened to laurent, it wasn't traumatic or weird or bad. that's why I liked the phrase "awkward and quick first times". that's usually the case with first times: you don't know what you're doing, sometimes there's sneaking around involved so you have to be quick about it, you're excited so it is quick, etc. it's my personal headcanon that his previous partners have always been "discreet" in the way laurent is, which speaks more about damen's toxic masculinity than his real personal taste. even if it was just a one night stand, he could never fuck someone like ancel, who wears "more feminine" clothes, does his nails, is into makeup, is more open and vocal about his queerness, etc.

about the self-help books: i'd say 99% of them are not real, but they are based on real books that you can find online. i read the body keeps the score (very problematic) and a bunch of others (like, a few pages of healing the shame that binds you) but ultimately decided it was better to just stick to original things.

i hope this cleared things up for you!!! thank you for the cool questions!! and congrats on your english, it's very good!

[nautilusopus]

Do you have any advice for anyone trying to get into writing?

Not really a motivation thing or anything, just for improvement. Your writing has captivated me, and I felt like it's better to get advice from an author that is reachable than reading a ton of articles online regurgitating the same steps.

Aw, thank you, I'm honoured!

Apologies if this is kind of a mess, I mostly went through stuff I come back to a lot that helps me. Also tumblr seems to have removed the ability to do indented bullets. Fucking great.

In General:

When I'm first starting out writing a story I'm excited about, I usually don't do things in order -- I'll instead pick one scene I can see extremely clearly and am super excited about, one of the things that made me want to write the story to begin with, and then build the entire outline out from there to set it up (what needs to happen to set the scene up exactly how I want it to be? How do I justify that stuff? What would happen afterwards that would add to the scene even more in retrospect?) This not only helps keep the energy going for parts of the story that might not necessarily be fun to plan, but will inherently cause you to start building a story that is either circumstantially or thematically building to something. It can be something as small as a single conversation but it should be the bit that you personally want to see realised most strongly.

On that note, people like when they can see foreshadowing! That's what it's there for! This has been said by other people plenty, but I'll restate it here: the audience potentially being able to piece together your twist after a while is not a failure in writing, it means you put information into a story that allowed them to engage with it and conveyed something that made sense.

I personally sometimes (but not always mostly due to laziness and because I do try to approach shit chronologically so I don't have to double back and do massive rewrites, also due to laziness) like to write big keynote moments of character arcs in full in advance once I have the whole plot more or less laid out. That way, I know what's coming emotionally speaking and can have characters start clearly building up to things, do stuff like plant specific phrases that come back in big ways or are recontextualised later on, and it makes the story feel more cohesive as a whole and helps the scene hit a whole lot harder when you do get to it. Like I said though I'm lazy and I also don't like creating more work for myself if I don't have to, and if by chance the story doesn't shake out the way I thought it would by the time I get to that moment then god is it a pain to rewrite that sort of thing.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mostly I find it helps keep me focused on where it's going. It's a late stage thing though, I don't start doing this until I'm sure I know how the story will be laid out more or less chapter by chapter, which brings me to:

GO BACK AND CHECK IF YOU HAVE A MIDDLE OF YOUR STORY. ARE YOU SURE? GO BACK AND CHECK AGAIN. This is like the number one pitfall I see basically everywhere across any genre, both with fanfiction and professionally (and in movies always winds up manifesting in reviews as "the movie gets kind of aimless after a while/the third act kinda starts out of nowhere after a really slow part). People have an idea for a strong beginning, the rising action and the big dramatic moment when the stakes are raised, maybe a quiet moment in the middle reflecting on all the tension of the plot and how it's reflecting on the characters, a thing that sets off the end, probably an idea how it ends and how things resolve, et cetera -- and they will forget that at no point did they actually create any connective tissue between their plot development points. Travel! Character beats! The actual events in between big beat A and big beat B, no matter how barebones! Go back and check if you've made any!

As someone that writes a lot of heavily character-driven stuff I'm very biased here, but: in my opinion, if you have good, solid characters, they can carry even the most barebones dogshit story because they are the lenses that the audience is experiencing the world from and through, and whose actions are potentially shaping the course of the story, and of course who the reader is getting attached to. Conversely, even the richest, most lavishly detailed world and story is going to land with a thud if your characters aren't any good and don't have any more to them than making various political developments happen, because at that point you don't have a story with different elements interacting with each other to create events and tension, you have a lore wiki, which is not the same thing as a story. Maybe you could use that for a tabletop RPG, but people aren't necessarily gonna want to read it.

RELATED: JRRT was a linguist and historian first and a writer second. Lore is great and all and can help your world feel like it's a living breathing place, but think about if it's a good detail to include onscreen or not, or if it's just there to "flesh out the world". Stop to consider if this actually has a demonstrable effect on the things happening in front of the reader or not, and if anyone would notice if it were removed outright. Can some things be assumed? What might need to be explained?

Keep an eye on narrative voice versus character voice! If I stripped the dialogue tags from your story, could you still tell who was talking? Does everyone just talk like the narration? Like each other? Like you? Everyone is gonna sound like you at least a tiny bit because you're the one writing it, but at least try to keep an eye on how much you're doing that. It can be pretty boring to just listen to one guy talk the entire time across multiple mouths haha don't look at how long this post is getting shhhhhh

Any story (but especially horror, and especially especially cosmic horror), lives and dies by its suspension of disbelief. The rules don't need to be realistic because it is all made up, and they can be any rules you want, and if you establish them clearly then the audience will buy in as best they can because they want to engage with your story on its own terms (or they SHOULD grumble grumble but that's another discussion and not really something the author can control), but then once you've made them you need to stick to them, or when you do break them it should wind up meaning something.

Suspension of disbelief in horror or fantasy can be trickier, especially when it's something weird and the rules aren't even mechanically sound in their own setting. In that case, the important thing to preserve is emotional stakes the audience can buy into, about how this situation might feel to be in, or if there are any things in real life it might feel similar to. This one's more intuitive than you'd think. Sure, you might not know that the veil of reality is flimsy and all it would take to destroy it all is to get noticed by something much vaster than you could ever imagine; but you probably DO know what it's like to be one missed rent payment from losing everything and realising your safety was really all that never sound. I don't even flinch if someone's head explodes into gore in a movie, but I'll always wince and look away if someone has their fingers crushed or their eye pierced, because even though the violence is lesser I can imagine that happening to me and I don't like it one bit!

Horror can potentially struggle with this pretty badly. Unless you're writing a slasher where the point is to watch some dumb teens bite it, your movie won't actually be scary unless the audience can in some way feel endangered, and they won't be able to do that if what is going on is too disconnected from anything a human could experience. Writers tend to get fixated on making a Really Gross Scary Thing(TM) or Biggest Evilest Threat Evar(TM) and assuming their job is done.

There's no one right or wrong way to do something, but be aware that sometimes things tend to come up in stories a lot for a reason. The tools you have are just tools. Complaining a story has tropes in it is like complaining a tree is made of wood.

That said, if you're thinking of your story entirely in terms of which tropes you want to use, it may be time to take a step back and think about what you actually want to accomplish rather than mushing the same paste into the same holes for the 800th time (more on that later).

Dialogue. If it's something you struggle with, remember that chances are you're a person that knows how to talk, and so you inherently know how to create dialogue. The biggest pitfall I see is people overthinking it trying to "Write Dialogue in this Story" rather than just typing an idea the way they know inherently that it would be typed. If you wanna try and capture a much different voice, spend time listening to people -- and I mean really listening. People double back, correct themselves, trail off, change their train of thoughts in the middle, do more or less of these things when they're in a certain emotional state depending on their personality.

Frankly I'd spend time listening to real people anyway. Spend too much time online and characters wind up sounding like Twitter threads, or worst case scenario you wind up with perfectly articulated ideas and Therapy Speak. A character might not have the vocabulary you, someone who has been online for eighty to ninety years (est) would to convey specific ideas, and not everyone is perfectly self-aware about what they're saying. Someone's probably more likely to say "fuck you I had a bad day" than they are to go "gosh i dislike how much your own success reminds me of how my own mother held me to impossibly high standards so i have very high rejection sensitivity which is why i'm lashing out". Or, again, if someone does talk like that make it mean something. It could be a good example of someone either being insincere and going through keywords to shut someone up, or someone that's very socially awkward giving a rehearsed speech, and those are all potentially interesting ways to then take a story.

(Sidenote because I see this come up sometimes: Hate to single out a single genre here, but anime and by extent video games but mostly anime is a bad place to learn to write dialogue from -- if you're listening to a dub, they had to translate stuff from Japanese and then make it fit lip flaps on a screen, and if you're watching subs, not only were the subs translated but anime trends heavily towards melodrama and Japanese people typically do not speak that way.)

You gotta know the rules before you can break 'em! Read books. Actual books I mean, not just fanfic. Broaden your horizons. When you start breaking rules it will be because it's what you want to do.

Personal nitpicks, some fandom specific and some not. I'm aware some of these are basic but also you never know who might need to hear this stuff so:

Hentai is not a good place to learn about writing actual sex. It's a great place to learn about sex that is following pure porn rules, in which case go nuts and godspeed soldier, but unless you want your scene to come off as either unintentionally rapey or full of nonsensical leaps of moon logic when you're trying to write an otherwise somewhat grounded setting, you should probably read actual books meant for actual adults about fucking, or pull from your own experiences if you're able.

* This isn't advice but I want it known at this point I've seen at least three fanfics clearly written by a middle schooler that's never fucked before and honest-to-god genuinely seems to think some degree of omegaverse is how actual sex works. So that'll be interesting to encounter going forward. If you aren't committing to porn rules (there's that "the rules can be anything you want so long as they're internally consistent" bit again!) do research is my point.

If you started your character creation with their outfit and can tell me their star sign, bust measurements, the four shirts plus jacket plus socks plus shoes they're wearing, the kind of weapon they can summon, eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, height and weight, their agility score versus their magic score, and their favourite ice cream flavour, and yet you have one paragraph about "personality", your focus might not be in the right place and you are making an MMO character. That's fine for something you're going to be staring at the back of for 200 hours but maybe not for someone you're going to need to live inside the head of. Start with personality, and you can tailor all that fun back cover dossier stuff around who that person is and how it would inform the way they dress.

Bad child dialogue is my biggest pet peeve personally and I will immediately put a book down when I encounter it lol. A bigger portion of people are around children than you think and will notice if you've never interacted with a kid before. Children are not cavemen and do not talk like them. The gaps in their vocabulary tend to come from them having a limited amount of it and adapting new phrases into the few existing frameworks they have. This carries over to their psychology, by the way.

Specific to cosmic horror: you can't just make a Gross Thing, your horrors need actual motivations. Nobody cares how big of a squid you can invent, and going "uhhh it's so scary I don't have to bother can't describe it" can only work so many times and is not an excuse to at least not try to describe something. How it makes the characters feel, what the experience is like, whatever. Now, you don't ever have to tell the readers directly what the motivations of your old gods are, but you the writer should come up with some to shape their behaviour so the readers can see the inscrutable ghosts of clear patterned actions that almost make sense yet remain just outside human comprehension oooooooooo. Also readers can generally tell when that's missing and all you have is Large Squid Scary doing random gross shit so it's not an excuse to skimp.

Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. We have pronouns. We have context clues. We have sentence structures that convey what is going on to the reader. We have nouns. If you are going to constantly refer to your character as The Brunette it better be hugely massively goddamn significant that her hair is brown or it's gonna become clear real fast that you just ran out of ways to phrase things and it's gonna take people right out of the story. If the only way you can think of to describe your character in an intense emotional scene is "uhhh this is the one with the brown hair remember I hope you didn't forget" then that's code fucking red. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets.

And the two biggest bit of advice I can come up with for people trying to improve their craft that I give out every time:

1 Have a point. Have a clearly identified reason in your mind about what you want to accomplish with this story. This will help you get your thoughts in order when you are stuck, it will help you outline the story if you're not sure where you want it to go next, it will help other people troubleshoot with you if you aren't sure how to start solving a problem, it will help you make decisions about what and what not to include to help it feel complete, and it will help motivate you when you start to lose track of why you even started this project. Saying "well it's a Vampire AU and I want to do Hurt/Comfort with an ambiguous ending and a BAMF!Scrongus with Soft!Cromgle" doesn't tell me a damn thing, either as a reader OR as someone potentially trying to help you whip the thing into shape. That's a bit like asking, "How do I write a Cute yet Cool character?" like bitch I don't know it's your story there are a million ways to write this stuff and yes that is a real question I got asked once.

Instead, have an actual, identifiable goal that is personal to you, what you want to write, and what you have to say. That can be anything from "I have a lot of strong opinions about why gender is, across the breadth of experiences possible with human consciousness, a zero sum game that must be internally and deliberately engaged with before one is then able to determine their own relationship to it" to "oh man i love the idea of Mark from Accounts Receivable one day going apeshit and beating Jake from Auditing half to death with an office chair and the fallout that would generate and maybe also someone FINALLY FINALLY asks him for the first time 'hey dude are you okay do you wanna talk'" to "god it'd be so hot if this guy were bent over a pool table drooling onto the velvet and i am going to do everything in my power to facilitate that somehow". Either way, clear mission statement and goal that isn't just telling me what tags you're slapping on the finished product! If you have that kind of clarity of vision it will come across in your piece and resonate with people because it's a complete thought that the work is able to deliberately showcase, instead of just churning out Content™ that fits certain templates that are popular, even if you like said templates. What do you have to say? Why did this idea stick in your brain so hard you had to write it down and tell the world about it? What parts of it especially did you want to convey so badly? Show us!

2 Writing is vulnerability by proxy. Until we get the technology for brain uploading, you are only going to ever be you in your own head with your own thoughts, experiences, biases, and worldviews. If you think you can write something without exposing a lot of really revealing shit about yourself to an audience that notices it, perish that thought now. Quentin Tarantino and HP Lovecraft weren't slick about it and you won't be either. This is neither a bad thing or a good thing, it just is, and whether it affects the work for better or for worse is honestly dependent upon how you engage with that fact. I will say trying to back away from it generally leads to problems (unexamined prejudices showing up in stories, worldviews that it turns out most people don't share going stated simply as fact rather than being supported by the writing around it). It can also lead to a stronger story, though, if you're willing to engage with it. Engaging honestly with what scares you and why, what you find comforting, uplifting, upsetting, et cetera. All of these require vulnerability, and allowing other people to see that, and it's going to happen with or without your consent because you're the one writing the thing, so you may as well make peace with it and lean in. "But what if it's cringe" too late baby most things are cringe and that shouldn't be your focus. You are fighting a losing battle. We are all cringe. But we are free.

Hope this helps. I just know I've left half a sentence fragment in here that I said I'd come back to and then forgot oh god

[laundrybiscuits]

I've recently been tagged in a few WIP/"last thing you've written" type games, and…to be completely candid, I haven't been writing any kind of fic lately because I've become a little bit obsessed with analyzing the Broadway revival of Merrily We Roll Along.

Not for any particular purpose, I just saw it at the Hudson a little while back and have a lot of feelings about it! In my tiny scraps of spare time, I've been working on an essay about Merrily and inevitability that will probably end up rotting in my google docs*, because that's how I approach writing as a hobby.

There's just so much there, holy shit. I'm focusing particularly on "Franklin Shepard, Inc." because Radcliffe's Charley brings a frenetic, desperate vulnerability to the performance that reads so, so differently from earlier productions. Throughout the show, I was consistently blown away by the heavy lifting Radcliffe, Mendez, and Groff do in shifting the core tension from "art vs commerce" (fine but basic, and difficult to keep modern) to "how people prioritize different types of relationships in their lives."

In an effort to make this slightly less wildly off-topic for this blog: this has gotten me thinking about the way that platonic relationships are treated in narratives, particularly but not exclusively in fandom.

"Found family" is and has always been a popular trope, but I do think its current incarnation trades a lot on the underlying fantasy of relationship permanence. When we recategorize friendships as familial relationships, we're making a claim—whether or not it's justified—about the indelibility of those relationships.

That's not inherently bad (or, god forbid, problematic). I think it's very very natural, especially for those who don't necessarily have a lot of experience with the way adult friendships change over time. Why wouldn't you want something as precious and unique and amazing as a good friendship to stay with you forever?

Certain people can feel like pillars of your world, and it's fucking terrifying to think about that being yanked out from under you—or even worse, to think about your lives slowly shifting like geologic plates until suddenly you realize it's been weeks, then months, then years since you last really talked.

CHARLEY: We're not that kind of close any more, the way we used to be. And a friendship's like a garden. You have to water it and tend it and care about it. And you know what? I want it back.

It's a peculiar, particular kind of grief when it happens, because even though it's a fairly common human experience, it doesn't get socially acknowledged in the same way as e.g. a romantic breakup.

So yeah, it makes a lot of sense that found family is a popular trope in all kinds of media, not just fandom.

However...at this point, I've developed a knee-jerk wariness to the phrase "found family," because I've found it often correlates with a really flat, simplistic depiction of human relationships. In extreme cases, it simply recontextualizes a relationship within the socially acknowledged/acceptable framework of a stereotypical family unit.

This does a disservice to familial and nonfamilial relationships alike. Every family is different, so why do so many found families in media look the same?

(I was monologuing about this to my very patient girlfriend, and she pointed out that this also sets up a success/failure binary condition in relationships, where permanence is the arbiter of success in both romantic and nonromantic contexts. She is of course both beautiful and correct!)

I have friends with whom I can sometimes share a glance and know exactly what they're thinking. I even have a running joke with one friend about the sheer number of times we've said the same thing in unison over the last 15 years. I still need to be intentional about building those relationships, extending empathy when we differ, and carving out time to reconnect. Truly intimate long-term relationships of any kind involve disagreements, conflicting priorities, and negotiating and renegotiating boundaries.

Being "basically the same person" or "sharing a braincell" actually sounds super fucking lonely to me, personally, and it handily elides the difficult, essential process of keeping people in your life.

FRANK: Old friends let you go your own way. CHARLEY: Help you find your own way. MARY: Let you off when you're wrong. F: If you're wrong. C: When you're wrong. M: Right or wrong, the point is, old friends shouldn't care if you're wrong. F: Should, but not for too long. C: What's too long?

That's a more complicated and much more mature narrative to tell than "friendship will save the day!" Because it's not that common and there's not a deep bank of references to draw from, it takes a lot of effort and skill to depict well, and I don't blame creators for not wanting to let it suck up all the air in the room. However, I think it's important to acknowledge that platonic relationships can also be flanderised and flattened.

In the context of fandom, which has always traded heavily in Romance genre conventions, I would really like to see more thoughtful explorations of complicated nonromantic relationships. I'm not even talking about genfic here! I've actually been thinking about Stobin specifically because that relationship (rightly & understandably) tends to show up in any Steve-centric fic, including the vast ocean of Steddie fics, so it makes the issue slightly more visible than I've seen in other fandoms.

I'm not saying I want to see them fight, or not be friends, or not love each other fiercely and near-obsessively in the way that lonely teenagers can. I'm just saying I want them to be distinct individuals who view the world in very different ways, and choose each other anyway. They already have a complicated past; I know from personal experience that it's possible as a lesbian to be best friends with a guy who once made a little speech about how into you he was, but that little layer of history never quite goes away.

I don't want frictionless relationships in my life. I want people who will challenge me and whom I can challenge, in the context of love and trust. I want people in my life whom I have to work to understand, because my life is richer when I do. And sometimes, I want narratives that will reflect the grief of friendships that are no longer part of my life, despite the best efforts of everyone involved.

In Merrily, Charley sings, "Friendship's something you don't really lose—" but Radcliffe's thready, pleading delivery makes it all too clear: Charley already knows he's lying. The audience just needs to catch up.

*Other essays in that particular graveyard: understanding the cast of Peanuts through the lens of anomie, humor and subversive linguistic nationalism in 00s Singaporean TV, how to fix Miss Saigon. WHY am I this way.

[littlebatpup]

(GIF isn't mine) Martin Whitly x Reader Summary: AU where you and Martin met during med school (reader being a few semesters behind because they started later), set before he's put in prison. Word count: 995

You were sitting at your desk, studying for exams like you had been for the past weeks. But as of recently, it felt like a drag. You were wondering why you were doing what you were doing. If it was worth it. If you could keep up with the speed of things, with the competition. If you deserved to be studying at University. It was a spiral you fell into more and more often lately. You didn't notice the door of your apartment open nor that your Boyfriend Martin stepped into it. He knew that you had upcoming exams and suspected you'd be sitting at your desk studying. That's exactly where he found you after he had taken off his jacket and shoes. However, he didn't expect you to mindlessly stare out the window. You also didn't seem to have heard him enter your room, which made him worry cause you usually heard every little sound. He carefully walked closer to your desk to not scare you. "Love?" he asked quietly, making you whip your head around in your chair. Staring at him for a second as if he were an alien. Once you realized it was him your gaze softened though it still held some sadness and fear caused by the endless spiral of what-ifs that almost constantly occupied your brain. "Oh uhh hi Martin. What are you doing here?" you asked. He told you that he thought you two could maybe spend a nice evening together, cook something, watch a movie, or something. Something about the way you looked irked him though. This wasn't how you usually looked, not the happy eyes that usually looked up at him. Something was up he knew that. "Darling, you look like you're almost about to burst into tears. What's wrong?" Martin asked, concern laced in his voice. "And don't tell me it's nothing, I know something's up." he added in a serious tone. You let out a big sigh, he wasn't wrong but you also didn't wanna unpack everything. It all felt too small to be a 'real' problem like it wasn't something you should feel so worried and upset about. Martin stepped even closer to you, turning your chair so that you were directly opposite him. He lifted a hand to your cheek and let his thumb softly glide over your skin. You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of him seep into your skin. Knowing you couldn't stop him from asking until he had an answer you told him. Told him about how you were stressed about exams and the competition, and how you were questioning why you even studied. However, you left out the aspect of whether you deserved to study or not. Martin knew you in and out so he knew you were keeping something from him. He looked at you with a stern but concerned face, prompting you to tell him the rest as well. You closed your eyes before you told him the last bit. "I feel like I don't deserve this, don't deserve studying." You teared up after this statement. Martin just lifted you up from your chair and pulled you into a tight hug, which in turn made you cry out everything. Martin stroked your back in comfort and whispered words and phrases of reassurance. Once your crying had calmed down to sniffles he pulled you from his chest so that he could look at you and hold your face with both of his hands. "You deserve studying, darling. You deserve to be a student. You deserve everything that you have." he told you. The earnest in his voice was clear as day and he hoped that it seeped into your mind. Pulling you into him again, you two stood there, in your room, wrapped around each other, for a little while longer.

"Now I don't think I can really take away the stress about competition or the thoughts about you deserving to study or not. However, I think we can do something about feeling stressed out in general." You looked at him with curious eyes while he smiled slightly.

"What do you say about comfort dinner and then a movie after. I can cook or we can cook together. We can cuddle up for the movie and you can just turn that smart brain of yours off." "Mhmm cooking together and movie night sounds good." So off you went into the kitchen to collect the ingredients you needed and started cooking. Whenever Martin wasn't occupied by preparing something for dinner he walked over to give you the occasional kiss or hug, knowing that the physical contact would help you feel better.

After dinner, which you and Martin thoroughly enjoyed, you got settled on the couch. You were sitting next to him, head somewhere between his chest and shoulder. Martin had given you the choice of movie, which meant your favorite movie was just about to start. You snuggled deeper into him and he put his arm around you, holding you as tight as possible.

You enjoyed the movie – with the occasional comment from either of you here and there – up to about the halfway mark, at which you felt the sleepiness creep in. You changed position so that now your head laid in his lap. Not long after his hand found its way into your hair, playing with different strands of hair and occasionally scratching your scalp too.

“You comfy down there love?” Martin asked in a soft voice, one that was reserved for the quiet times you two spent together. You only hummed a confirmation; you were too comfortable and sleepy to answer properly right now.

 At this very moment, in this place, being so close to Martin, you felt safe, loved and so content with everything. Your head being quiet for once. You fell asleep not long after, the last words you heard were Martin’s soft whispers, “Goodnight my dear, have a restful sleep.”  

[trashyswitch]

The Cost of an Open Journal

Elliott tries to get his inner thoughts and secrets out using a journal. But when Alex makes a surprise stop at his cottage, Elliott is forced to come to terms with the idea of Alex, someone he's not particularly close to, discovering his secret. I guess that's what happens when you don't close your journal...

This fanfic was suggested by 🦇 anon! Though I know you probably didn't expect Alex to be the ler villager, I still hope you like it!

Elliot was sitting at his writing desk, struggling with a storyline. He’s been dealing with some writer's block lately, and has been trying to push through by writing despite it. But this was proving to be a lot more difficult than he thought it would be. Trying to write a chapter without much ideas, was like trying to catch a fish without a piece of bait at the end. It wasn’t impossible, but it’s certainly a challenge. 

To try and get over some of his writer's block, Elliot closed his book and opened up his journal instead. He opened up his book to the most recent page, where he had talked about a little insecurity of his. It was something he never told anyone, let alone talked about out loud. He picked up his pen and continued to write on the partly pre-written page. 

He had moved onto the next page, when a far-away knock had filled his ears for a moment or two. He put down his pen, got up from his desk and walked over to the door. Unsure of who it was, Elliot gently opened it and widened his eyes. “Oh! Greetings, Alex!” He greeted. “Not the person I was expecting.” He admitted. “Oh yeah? Who were you expecting?” Alex asked with a smirk. 

“Uh…” Elliot scratched the back of his head. “Honestly…I was expecting Leah or the new farmer.” He admitted. “Nevertheless, how’s your day been treating you?” He asked. 

“It’s been alright. You?” Alex replied. 

“It’s been comforting.” He lied a little bit. “What brings you here?” 

Alex pointed to the dock with his thumb behind him. “Wanna sit on the dock for a bit?” He asked. 

“Uhhh…” Elliot looked behind himself towards the writing room, and bit his lip. “Well…” He looked back towards Alex. “I’m a little busy trying to write at the moment. Perhaps a little later?” He asked. 

“Oh! You’re writing?!” Alex asked. 

“Y-Yes, but-” 

“I wanna see!” 

Before Elliot could protest, Alex had sprinted through Elliot into his cabin. “WaitWAIT!” Elliot shouted as he ran after him. Alex had sprinted right into Elliot's writing room, eager to see how far he was into his book. He picked up the journal and started reading the first page. 

[Everyone knows one of my favorite birthday gifts is duck feathers. Though I find them very pretty, that is not why I love duck feathers as much as I do.] 

“Wait…” Alex looked at the front of the journal, and widened his eyes. “I didn’t know you journal!” He reacted. 

“Alex!” Elliot complained. 

“Let’s see…” He started reading the journal out loud. “Another reason I like duck feathers so much is because they are very useful to write with.” He read. “Well, that’s obvious…” Alex muttered with a chuckle. “A-Alex…” Elliot muttered, covering his mouth and cheeks with his right hand. 

“They are also quite soft to the touch. Just the delicate graze of my fingers across the feather is enough to make me…giggle…” Alex blinked. “Huh?” He tilted his head slightly as he read the phrase out loud again. “Delicate graze of my fingers…across the feather…” Alex looked up. “Makes you giggle? Why?” Alex asked next. 

Elliot’s face was bright red by this point. It didn’t take much effort to darken his ginger face. He couldn’t tell why exactly he was blushing…was it because Alex had read his secret out loud? Or was it because Alex didn’t understand what he secretly meant? He had no idea, and he didn’t really wanna take the time to find out which was worse. 

“Oh wait…” Alex muttered before continuing to read. “My fingers are a little sensitive…It doesn’t take many flutters to leave me sheepish and giggly.” Alex looked up, surprised to be reading such unusual information. “Wait, when you say sensitive…you mean ticklish, right?” Alex clarified. 

“U-Uh…U-Ummm-” Elliot sighed and covered his face. Though this helped cover up the true color of his face, it didn’t exactly stop Alex from reading more of the journal. 

“Though I do have a favorite…” Alex’s voice slowly trailed off as he kept reading the journal. Alex’s lips slowly formed into his signature smirk the more he read it. The truth was becoming clear to him, and he appeared to be absolutely loving it!

Elliot sat himself onto his piano bench. It was the closest seat he could find before he fell to the ground from pure humiliation. The truth was, Elliot wanted to crawl into a little ball and die. He could not be more mortified…Of all the people to find out the truth…Why did it have to be Alex?! Why couldn’t it have been Leah?! Or the new farmer?! He doesn’t even know Alex all that well. Yes, they somewhat grew up together…but they still didn’t really know each other. Not like Leah does, anyway. And knowing Alex, he may end up blabbing to everyone about his little secret! OH HEAVEN HELP ME! 

Elliot’s anxious thoughts were quickly cut short by a shocked squeal of his own. He had felt something delicately soft, and unbelievably familiar against his neck. Elliot didn’t even need to look at the perpetrator and their weapon of choice. He knew EXACTLY what was tickling his neck, and who was using it against him. 

But all of Elliot’s duck feathers were hidden in a narrow box in his room! So only one question remained: Where did Alex get THIS duck feather from?! 

“Well, will you look at that…” Alex muttered, smirking as he fluttered the feather against his back neck where the spine was. 

Elliot squeaked rather childishly as he brought his shoulders up to try and cover up his neck. “eeEEHEEHEEP!” Elliot shrieked. 

“So the journal WAS right! You ARE ticklish on your neck!” Alex reacted with a laugh. 

“ALEXWAhahait!” Elliot laughed and protested. 

Alex chuckled. “It’s a good thing I brought this duck feather with me, huh?” Alex teased. 

Realizing his neck-covering tactic clearly wasn’t working, Elliot reached his hand behind him to get the feather away from his neck. “P-Plehehease dohon’t!” He reacted. “Ihit’s ehembarassihihihing!” Elliot tried to tell him. 

“If it’s so embarrassing, then why would you write it down on paper for the world to read?!” Alex asked as he moved the feather to the left side of Elliot’s neck. “This whole thing was all on you.” 

“Beeheecause it’s aha secrehehet!” Elliot argued, trying to curl his neck and shoulders to cover it up. “Yohohou rehehead my stuhuhuhuff!” 

“Well, you should’ve put away the journal diary before answering the door!” Alex responded with a chuckle. “Besides…” He fluttered the feather on the now-exposed right side of his neck. “Why would you keep a cute little thing like this a secret?” Alex asked. 

Elliot squealed and struggled to cover up the ticklish spot. “Ihihihit’s nohohot cuhute!” Elliot argued. 

“What are you talking about?! This is cute as hell!” Alex replied rather excitedly. 

“Ihihit’s nohohot!” Elliot kept arguing. 

“If there’s someone in this town that wouldn’t think this is cute, then I’d like to meet them and make them get their eyes checked.” He told him. “Cause THIS…” He fluttered the feather against the left side of his lower neck. 

“DOHOHON’T!” Elliot squeaked and tried to push his hand away. 

“-is gonna get you all the ladies.” Alex finished his tease. 

“Nohohot thehere!” He reacted, laying himself down onto the closed piano. 

“Okay, okay. Then what about here?” Elliot snuck the dainty green feather right under Elliot’s chin. “How about-” 

“eeEEEK!” Elliot squeaked, followed by a big snort. Realizing what he had done, Elliot immediately covered his mouth. 

Alex had moved his feather away and widened his smile the moment he heard it. “Oh my god!” He bursted out laughing almost immediately. “What a reaction!” He placed the feather against his chin again, and twirled it instead. 

“eeEEEHEEHEEK! *snort* DOHON’TPLEHEHEASE!” Elliot shrieked and laughed. 

“Dude, this is hilarious!” Alex fluttered the feather against his lower neck again. “I have never seen you act like this before!” Alex reacted. 

“NONOHOHOHAHAHA!” Elliot started cackling. Even the slightest flutter was enough to drive him crazy! 

“Do it again! Do the snort!” Alex encouraged before fluttering the feather under his chin again. 

“GAHAHAHA! PLEHEhehease stohohohop! Ihihi- IHIHIT’S TOO MUHUHUCH!” Elliot pleaded. 

“Damn dude! I’m barely doing anything!” Alex was shocked. “Are you really this ticklish?!” 

Elliot was too busy squealing and giggling to properly give him a reply. 

After a couple more minutes, Alex finally decided to give the man a rest. He brought the feather away from the long-haired writer, and focused on twirling it. “That was surprisingly fun!” Alex told him. 

Elliot hunched himself over on the piano stool, and scratched his chin and neck vigorously to make the phantom tickles go away. “Yohou…” He pointed to Alex with his pointer finger. “You are an absolute menace.” Elliot muttered. 

Hearing Elliot’s claim, Alex decided to confirm it by fluttering the end of the feather very delicately against Elliot’s pointing finger. 

“a-Ack?!” Elliot jumped, retracting his finger in milliseconds. 

“Can’t keep pointing fingers at me if I’m tickling them, right?” Alex teased. 

Elliot widened his eyes slightly, before sighing and giving up. He hated to admit it, but…Alex was somewhat correct. He literally can’t point fingers at him, because that would mean exposing yet another one of his ticklish spots to Alex…And Elliot was already quite sheepish to start. 

“So…” Alex pointed the feather to him. “I originally came out to give this to you.” Alex admitted, holding it out for him. “But considering how things went, I’m glad I waited.” Alex added. 

Elliot blinked and smiled a bit, taking the feather. “Th-Thank you.” He said softly. “I appreciate the gesture.” 

Alex smiled a bit. “And…does anyone else know about…” Alex pointed to the journal, before pointing to the feather. 

Elliot shook his head. “No. Not even Leah knows the truth.” He admitted. 

“Hm…Well, I think you should tell her.” Alex told him. 

Elliot looked a little surprised. “Tell Leah?” He looked away. “But…Why?” He asked. 

“Cause she’s your closest friend. So I think it’s safe to assume you can trust her.” Alex explained. 

“Mm hmm…And you?” Elliot asked. 

Alex tilted his head. “Me?” 

Elliot bit his lip. “Can I trust you to keep it a secret?” He asked him. 

“If that’s what you want, then sure!” Alex replied. 

Elliot let out a small breath of relief. 

“But only if I get to subtly tease you about it in front of Leah.” Alex declared next. 

Elliot rolled his eyes with a sigh, but nodded his head. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Alex cheered. “Listen, you’re not a very sportsy guy…But honestly…” Alex shrugged his shoulders. “You’re still pretty cool.” He told him. 

Elliot smiled and looked down, taking the compliment as best he could. “And I suppose you’re pretty good-natured yourself.” Elliot replied. 

“‘Good-natured’? That’s the best you can come up with?!” Alex retorted with a laugh. 

Elliot sighed. “I don’t understand some of the ‘cool’ words you use.” Elliot explained. “Look: I’ll forgive your terrible response if you hang out with me at the dock. Deal?” Alex offered. 

Elliot chuckled a little bit and shook his head with a smile. “Very well.” He got up from the piano stool and started to walk towards the door. 

Alex was about to follow him…But seeing that Elliot had forgotten his duck feather, Alex had picked it up and fluttered it against the left side of his neck again. “Forgot something, nerd?” Alex teased. 

Elliot squeaked and slid a few steps away from the feather. “NahAHA! Alex!” Elliot reacted. 

“You gotta stop leaving your feathers out in the open. Someone – me – Just might use it against you.” Alex told him. 

Elliot poked his side a few times in retaliation. “Don’t act so innocent.” He warned before opening the door to exit his cabin. 

Alex jumped and guffawed, not expecting such firm, tickly pokes from a guy like Elliot. But at least it was only a couple pokes compared to the feather tickling, right? 

[mickimagnum]

Devin's Dude Ranch: Episode Four

*the episode opens with a shot of Echo Valley Ranch. the sun sits low in the graying sky and the trees cast their long shadows across the ground.*

Devin, in diary room: "Tonight is our first group date and I'm so excited to get to spend more quality to time with the guys! I mean, I've missed them! Is that weird?" *lets out an unintentional snort laugh* "I know I just saw them all yesterday for the nectar making contest, but it's not like we actually got a chance to talk or bond or anything. So, yeah. I'm looking forward to tonight."

*next shot shows the contestants lined up in front of Devin. They are standing in the backyard of the house.*

Devin: "Hi guys! I hope you're all excited as I am about tonight because it's our first group date!"

*the contestants whoop in reply which makes Devin grin and blush slightly*

Devin (continues): "I know it's a little chilly out, but I have just the thing to keep us warm..."

Devin: "A weenie roast!"

*enthusiastic murmuring spreads among the contestants*

Devin: "Alright, why don't we head over to the fire pit and get comfortable?"

*everyone chooses a seat around an already roaring fire and looks to Devin expectantly. there's a beat of uncomfortable silence that follows.*

Devin: "So...you'll all have to forgive me if I'm a bit awkward. This is my first time going on a date with five dudes at the same time."

*chuckles ripple throughout the group*

Devin (continues): "There are dinner kits next to everyone's chairs if you're hungry. Otherwise, I thought we could just talk. Get to know each other better. To get things going I thought we could go around and all share something fun about ourselves. How about what's the silliest thing you've ever searched on the internet?"

*the group laughs again*

Stan: "Only if you go first, missy."

*more laughter, with Devin joining in*

Devin: "Alright, fair enough."

*she pauses a moment to consider her answer while the group looks on*

Devin: *chokes on a laugh* "Oh my Watcher. I can't believe I'm about to admit this to you guys. Okay. So, my cousin, Lacey, got me an AirTag because, and you should all know this about me, I am infamous for losing my keys. Well, needless to say, I lost 'em. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember exactly how she said the AirTag worked, so I pulled out my phone and searched," *pauses, covers her mouth with her hand, and squeezes her eyes shut* "Find my keys."

*the group howls with laughter*

Devin: "I know! I know! It was so dumb! But cut me some slack, okay? I'm not the most technically savvy!"

*as the laughter subsides, she turns to Houston*

Devin: "Your turn, cowboy."

Houston: "Hmmm....," *settles back in his seat and thinks for a few beats*

Houston (continues): "Alright. This one seems silly now, in hindsight. But, it was really late at night and I hadn't had much sleep and I had been writing for almost ten hours straight. But, I searched," *pauses briefly and smiles to himself*, "Does grammatical phrasing and ending dictate the relationship between syntax and the poetic line?"

*the group is so quiet the only sound are the crickets singing in the background*

Milo: "I don't get it."

*Devin looks slightly confused*

Houston: "Well, you see..."

Stan: "Don't even try, man. We're all too dumb to understand."

*the group breaks out into laughter again*

Handra: "I'll go next."

Devin: "Awesome. Let's hear it!"

Handra: "I'm kinda ashamed to admit, but this is something I have searched for on more than one occasion," *surprised hissing emanates from the people around him* "Yeah, I know. But, I can never remember which one is the damn salad fork."

*Handra laughs nervously*

Albert: "Wait, didn't you also work in a restaurant?"

*Handra's head droops*

Handra: "Yes."

Devin: "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about that around here. My philosophy is one fork for everything."

Houston: "Who has time for all those extra dishes, am I right?"

*Devin glances over and grins at Houston*

Devin: "Nail. Head."

*the two share a moment of eye contact before Stan clears his throat*

Stan: "Well, mine was an almost search. I started to type it in and thought it was too stupid and stopped myself."

Albert: "Oh, I gotta hear this."

*Devin looks to Albert*

Devin: "*Bleep*, me too."

*Stan grins and chuckles to himself*

Stan: "As I'm sure y'all have figured out by now, I'm very fond of my coffee. Well, one day I almost searched caffeine overdose. Isn't that ridiculous? Can you imagine?"

*Devin glances around the group with a worried expression*

Devin: "Umm...Stan. Caffeine overdose is a real thing. I mean, it's not super common, but it even kills people."

*Stan's face falls*

Stan: "What?"

*His eyes search the faces of the other contestants who are nodding to him in confirmation*

Stan: "Well, *bleep*."

*Houston reaches over and pats Stan on his shoulder*

Houston: "Sorry, buddy."

Milo: "I guess I'll go, " *he sighs and leans forward, resting his arm on his leg*, "I don't have the best memory. Probably because I've been hit in the head too many times. But, to make a long story short, I couldn't member my Mom's phone number so i had to search it after I got a new phone," *buries his face in his hand and laughs* "Which is really, really sad."

*the group laughs meekly, almost as if unsure if they should or just feel sorry for him*

Devin: "Awww! I'm not going to lie. I've been there. I mean, not with family. but with someone else I probably should have known their number."

Milo: "Thanks, Devin. At least I know I'm not alone."

*Devin winks across the fire at Milo*

Devin: "You're up, Albert."

Albert: "Can you milk cowplants?"

*the group sits in stunned silence for a moment, processing what Albert just said*

Albert (continues): "That was my search. And I already know what you ranchers are going to say," *holds up his hand to use a puppet and takes his voice up an octave* "Of course cowplants don't product milk, Albert. They're not actually cows. They're aliens," *his voice shifts back to normal* "Thank you, everyone. I found that out when I searched."

*Albert laughs and plants his face in the palm of his hand*

*the group bursts out into laughter, everyone except Stan*

*Stan has Albert locked in a steely stare, the hot dog he's been roasting now turning black in the open flame*

*indistinct conversation and laughter can be heard as a low buzz begins to fade in*

*conversations fade out as the buzz grows louder*

*Stan's glare begins shifting to each of the men around the fire*

Stan, in diary room: "I don't know what happened. I was just sitting there, and suddenly a wave of...intense jealousy came over me. Getting Devin's attention in this pack of wolves feels *bleep*ing impossible. This is going to be so much harder than I thought."

*the camera cuts back to the campfire. everyone is locked in their own conversations.*

Houston: "You know, I'm not exactly a fan of technology, either."

Devin: "Oh yeah?"

*Houston nods solemnly*

Houston: "Since the war."

*Devin's face softens*

Devin: "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

Houston: "No. It's okay. I want you to know."

*she nods and leans closer*

Houston: "It's just, that I've seen what we've made technology into. What it's capable of. The horrors it can inflict. I guess, it's made me not trust it."

Devin: "I don't think anyone can fault you for that. Least of all me."

*the two lock eyes and share a moment of comfortable silence*

*after an obvious time lapse, the next shot is focused on Devin*

Devin: "Guys, this has been a lot fun but unfortunately, it's time to call it a night. I hope you had as much fun as I did."

*everyone gets to their feet, hug Devin, and begin making their way into the house*

*Devin begins to head inside when Houston hurries behind her*

Houston: "Devin! Wait!"

*Devin glances over her shoulder before stopping in her tracks and turning to wait for Houston to catch up*

Houston: "This is probably against the rules or whatever, but I don't care."

*he reaches out, takes her hand, and pulls her gently against him.*

*Devin smiles in surprise*

Houston (continues): "I've been dying to do this and I couldn't wait any longer."

*Houston wraps his arm around Devin's waist and as she drapes hers across his shoulder. their faces are inches apart*

Devin: "So do it, already."

*she now cradles his face, her eyes burning into his*

*Houston smiles down at her*

*after a beat Houston leans forward, eagerly kissing Devin for the first time.*

*she meets his lips with a soft moan*

*Houston gently tightens his grip on her*

Houston, in diary room: "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. But, suffice to say, this is one of my most magical nights of my life."

Devin, in diary room: "He kissed me. He *bleep*ing kissed me." *swoons*

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Houston submitted by @invisiblequeen James "Stan" submitted by @natolesims Albert submitted by @bakersimmer Milo submitted by @belsasim Handra submitted by @bloomingkyras

[tozettastone]

Just on the topic of radical feminism— (heads up that there's some transphobic stuff discussed below, although not in much detail)

I think it's worthwhile to acknowledge that radical feminism did have its era. I know we deride it a lot online now and we have some good reasons for that. And I also do think it isn't really the right tool for approaching the evolving gender landscape of modern life. Radical feminism views all oppression of women as a result of gender relations between men and women (who are binary opposites) specifically. Today, a lot of highly educated people who think deeply about sex and gender have stopped treating gender as, like, "these are the unalterable facts about our bodies and they have a specific, inalienable social and biological meaning," which makes radical feminism just kind of... less useful to us. A school of thought that wants gender as an entire concept to be dismembered and served up on the good silverware can't really make use of a framework that's grounded in gender binary.

But I still think it's worth knowing about radical feminism.

I just think we kind of need to understand where we as feminists have been if we want to understand why we're here. Radical feminism did, in fact, have its era. Once you start thinking about it in its context, it's absolutely no coincidence that it emerged as a force in a froth of rage during the post-war years in the west—when the menfolk came back from war and the women were so condescendingly ushered right back into the home. It's worth reading your Catharine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin and Carol Hanisch (and, yeah, even the most loudly hostile transphobes like Sheila Jeffreys or the off-the-wall spite of Valerie Solanas, yes, sorry), and it's worth thinking about the absolute rage that informs, well, pretty much anything Sylvia Plath wrote (although I don't think she'd ever have called herself a radical feminist, if she'd lived that long—she's furious about the same things, though). All that stuff from the 50s (or late 40s, if we count de Beauvoir's The Second Sex) and 60s and 80s is useful and educational, if the people around you read you as a woman when you walk around on the street. It's worth reading and knowing where words like 'patriarchy,' and phrases like 'male supremacy,' and 'the personal is political,' are coming from.

And, anyway, reading something doesn't mean you should treat it as an authority. Obviously I don't think you should read Jeffreys and come away agreeing with her that "sex reassignment is mutilation," because I personally think that's incorrect (because... see my point above about dismembering gender). But maybe you shouldn't take my, or anyone else's, word for it? Maybe you should read and find out how she arrives at that idea and figure out what you think about that? If you come away thinking she's wrong, you'll be able to explain to yourself, clearly and with high quality critical thinking, exactly why. And if you read a bunch of radical feminist stuff and come out going "all this was a massive distraction from a more significant axis of oppression—which affects all women anyway—which is CLASS," or something, that's a reasonable criticism that you can probably support. I know people who think that, too.

I guess I just sincerely believe that we really only get to know one little tiny bit of reality from one single point of view at a time. So each new piece of information can form part of the lens through which to view reality. And to me it's just so much more useful to understand radical feminism as a deeply necessary, if now outdated, era of feminist thought than it is to howl "RADFEM RHETORIC," and not actually know what you mean by that.

Anyway if you got to the end of this and you're like, "yeah, maybe I should read more historically significant theories, but I simply lack the will and energy," then. Understandable. Have a nice day. LOL.

[anamericangirl]

"Embracing anarchy does not require conservatives to embrace violent revolution, or even civil disobedience. But for their own sake, as well as the sake of the civilization which they love, conservatives can and should deny the state’s legitimacy, on the grounds that it is destructive of the true, the good, and the beautiful. Affirming sovereignty in the hopes it may someday fall within conservative hands is a siren song that must be resisted. Thankfully, in an age where our political institutions seem incapable of giving us more meaningful “choices” than Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump, delegitimizing the state, in the name of ordered liberty¸ is more feasible than ever."

Thoughts on whether or not this makes sense in regards to small "c" conservatives and anarchy? Most of what I think the problem is in dealing with the anarchists lately is that they seem not to differentiate between "conservatives" and Republicans. It makes for creating a divide when we seem to be united by opposition to certain cultural issues like abortion, gender ideology and marxism and it's branches and we both agree that our state has become in many ways, illegitimate.

I don't know. It seems like they're just looking for reasons to be mad at small "c" conservatives because we're not doing "anarchy" in the right way by not just destroying the state outright instead of looking for ways to reform what we can and should and throwing aside what we can't. I see no problem in lobbying for the government to restrict or outlaw abortion and stop genital mutilation of minors. Isn't that the best of the government's function? To protect life? And isn't there progress being made in those cases? And isn't it through using our power as citizens to vote that these policies are enacted? Like I get that "vooting" doesn't solve everything and is a bit dicey these days, but why not take advantage and try at least, and if it fails, still fighting on the cultural front?

You can't fight the state if you run away from it. That's what put us in this position in the first place.

What say you?

I mean, I get what they're saying but what exactly is the point of denying the "state's legitimacy" and "delegitimizing the state" if, at the very least, it doesn't require embracing civil disobedience? What does it look like? Continuing to live and comply in the system but just refrain from voting and complain online that the state is "illegitimate?" Another problem with anarchists is they never explain how the system needs to be dismantled and how anything they do goes towards achieving that goal. They toss out vague phrases like "delegitimate the state" without explaining what that looks like after saying we don't need to "embrace violent revolution" or "civil disobedience." Ok then what? Do we just think to ourselves the state is illegitimate and continue to submitting it?

Like most of what they say, it's a meaningless word salad. Using a lot of words to say nothing at all.

And you are right, anarchists cannot distinguish between any political groups it seems. To them, you're either an anarchist or a bootlicker and there's no in between. They couldn't tell you the difference between a republican or "small c" conservative if you put a gun to their head. Or they'll just be like "hurr durr there is no difference."

Conservatives and anarchists do agree on a lot, especially when it comes to social issues and could unite on some of them but anarchists like to pretend if you support even the smallest government that's no different than supporting the most tyrannical dictatorship which is just stupid, but, you know, they're anarchists.

And when you get down to it, voting really doesn't work the way it was intended to and there are lot of legitimate questions about whether it has any impact at all lately, but the fact is it's not wrong to lobby the government to do the jobs we think it's important for them to do. The government does have a role and it's not wrong to want them to do their role. We, voters, have made more of a difference in the culture than anarchists ever have or ever will.

A lot of them are against abortion and what do they about it? Nothing.

What did we do about it? Through our "meaningless vooting" we got Roe v Wade overturned. We got bills through in several states that severely limit abortion, which saves the lives of more children.

A lot of them are against the transing of children and what do they about it? Nothing.

What did we do about it? We lobby our government to prevent the medical transition of minors and several states have seen success with it, protecting more kids.

Sure, the way the system works can make it hard for citizens to really have an impact and it's built to work against us with how big it is but there has been progress made on those fronts and it's not thanks to anarchists.

Anarchists don't fight the state and they don't think they have to be an anarchist. They just have to make themselves self sufficient which is the most laughable definition of anarchy I've ever heard but that's what they seem to think. You're not unique or fighting the system by living in and complying with it but just growing your own food and building things because that's how a lot of conservatives live. So how much of anarchist can you really be if it doesn't require you to fight against or dismantle the system but just live peaceably within it and pretending you're somehow delegitimizing the state because you grow your own vegetables? (the gardening stuff is in reference to a post one of them recently made here claiming they're "doing" a lot for anarchy by gardening and helping their neighbor build a shed lol)