#And if you don't like it - block me and die mad about it.

[mymarifae]

my favorite trans girl in the whole wide world isn't she so beautiful and pretty and special i love her dearly and i think prsk fans should explode

[amalg-em]

I think about what the difference is between bad dogs and good dogs. They say there's no bad dogs, only bad owners. That it's all in how you raise them. But other people say some dogs are just broken. They didn't come out right and it's not their fault, but they can never be good.

I know I'm a bad dog. I was made to serve a purpose and I don't serve it. I snarl. I bite. I hear things that scare me and I turn into a reactive mess. No one can fix me now. I'm broken for sure.

But sometimes I wonder if I could have been a good dog. If someone had taken care of me. If the people who owned me and raised me had known what I really was, if they had put me where I fit. Maybe then I could've been a good dog. If someone had taken responsibility for me, had shown me how to be what I was supposed to be - would I have been good? Maybe I wasn't a mistake at the very beginning. Maybe somewhere there is a version of me that is a good dog. That is doing the job it was made for, that is taken care of, that is loved.

There should only be a cage for an animal like me. A cage and a quick, painless death. Humans taking ownership of and rectifying the mistake that allowed me to exist. I am a supposed to be a human, but I am not. I am just a bad dog. If someone could see that, then maybe they could show me mercy. There would be a gentle set of hands taking me to that back room. They would muzzle me first, probably. Once they injected me with the sedative and I was calm, they would soothe me, running soft hands over my fur. Perhaps they would comfort me with words before they injected me the final time. Perhaps they would say sorry. Sorry that humans didn't take better care of me. That someone allowed me to become so broken. That I was forced to keep existing in a world so hostile and painful, when there would never be any hope that I could get better. They'd stay with me to the end, until my heart finally stopped, bearing witness to the malformed, pathetic thing humanity had created, maybe even doing their part to set it right.

Everyone crosses the threshold alone, but some have company to see them to the door. It would be a comfort to have someone there with me. Someone for whom my death would not be an unspeakable horror, the last trauma I managed to inflict in my brief, meaningless life. They would not be tormented by flashbacks of my lifeless body. They might even feel gratitude instead - gratitude that they were allowed to serve such an important role for someone else. Through their presence, they'd ensure I wouldn't have been meaningless, wouldn't be forgotten.

I am a bad dog, through and through. So that won't be my fate. I don't want to be bad, so I will try to find somewhere hidden to lay down and die. Someplace where the scavengers will erase me before anyone finds my body. No one will have to see me die, and no one will have to remember that I lived. There will be no witnesses, no comfort, no reassuring hands to ease my way.

I am a bad dog, so maybe I won't succeed. Maybe my last action on this earth will be to inflict my death on someone else. To make someone else responsible. To step in front of someone else's car, to leave my disgusting body where someone would have to find it. To torture a series of people with the collection, analysis, identification, and disposal of my shame. They will have to call someone who knew me in life. Who saw me snarl and snap. And they will have to look into my dead face with recognition, if it's intact enough - another meaningless pile of roadkill meat. And they will say, yes, that's him. He's finally dead. - as if death could free me or them from the horror fate has ordained.

The only way I will be remembered is with that rictus grin. That twisted posture. Bones and flesh leaping through the skin where they should not. If anyone remembers my face, it will be like that. That deathly image. A too accurate representation of what I was in life: a tragic mistake. The bad dog that should not have been. That would have been prevented had someone spayed and neutered when they should. That would have been better put out of its misery as a pup, or a juvenile, before it grew into a monster with such big teeth and no qualms about using them. A vicious predator without even the tempering balance of nature, mangy, ribs showing, covered in scars that healed pointlessly. This beast will not bear young to pass on its legacy - be thankful.

And in the place where its womb should have been there is only an empty pit, hungering, yearning, with such force as to create a gaping void. A tumor in reverse, draining all the life around it. They will not see the hole in my flesh when they find me. They won't able to recognize the mercy I've granted both myself and them. A world free of me, of my vile and intolerable form, and the abominations I would've given birth to. Instead they will curse my name, call me a coward, for having forced them to acknowledge me in death. I was always an ugly thing. They were always going to hate me for making them see me. But a dead body is so much worse, you see, and it doesn't matter that my existence was a wrong that needed to be righted. It was never about me. I never deserved to live, to feel, to be taken care of, and I never deserved to die. If I had any good in me at all, I would have simply vanished instantaneously, erasing myself from everyone's memories.

But I am not good and never was. I am a bad dog.

[voldiebuns]

lmao someone went through my blog to leave rude comments on all my posts about how I don't like Mercedes, calling me an incel and a racist and saying I'm stupid for not understanding wrestling is scripted

[auspicioustidings]

No second location, that was the mantra that had been drilled into your head. So when a man bullied his way into your passenger seat, put a gun to your head and told you to drive, you did that. When he told you to take the next cut off you did not.

"Naw think I'll shoot ye?"

"Think if you do we're doing 80 and we're both meeting a quick end."

It's night time, quiet motorway that stretches for hours and hours. He laughs in disbelief after the initial plan to intimidate you fails. You can't keep driving forever, but he is fascinated by the attempt.

One hour in and you know each others names. He knows what music you like, knows you're single, that you have a cat. You know this is the first time he's brought a girl back (or has tried to at least), that he's the youngest in his team and this is an initiation of sorts. He connects his phone so he can blast his music. "Naw dying in a blaze of glory to fuckin' showtunes sweetheart."

You scream at one point, raw fury. He screams with you, whooping as you pick up speed and hit 100 in a moment of blind emotion before you slow a little again. He's touching you, a hand running down your body as he whispers filth into your ear. You give him nothing, act unaffected as your hands grip the wheel so tight they are turning pale.

There's a phone call. One of his team.

"As beautiful as you'd be dead, your pretty corpse is of fuck all use if it's burned to a crisp in a fireball."

"Oh, I don't talk about necrophilia until the second date."

"Fuck LT ye should see her. Spitting mad, think she might actually kill herself just tae take me with her."

Soap groans the words out, hard over the idea of dying in this car with you, throbbing with the knowledge that maybe you hate him so much you're willing to give up your life to spite him.

There are other team members, you try and block it all out. You are crying with frustration because soon the motorway will run out. Maybe you'll just drive straight to a police station, but then Price who you think may be their leader tells you that if his boy goes to jail, he may as well do it for murder.

"Soap'll blow your pretty brains right out of your skull luv, now pull off at the next exit and follow directions."

"Isn't it apparent by now that I'd rather die?"

"If that were true you'd have crashed 100 miles back."

He's right. You don't want to die. You really do not want to die. Over the last few hours you've developed an aversion to Soap dying as well. He's crazy, certifiably insane, but the danger of him is the kind of danger that comes with the flood of adrenaline that borders on erotic with how strong it is. You're sort of attached, trauma bonded maybe.

But the mantra persists. No second location.

Soap grins wildly when he sees how you relax, how your eyes fill with resignation. He can see what you're going to do. So he kisses you, tongue trying to bury itself as far into your mouth as possible.

"Let's dae it baby."

So you do. You bank hard right and the car goes flying, tumbling over and over into a field. You don't know how you survive it, but the next thing you know you are in the back of an ambulance. The police question what happened once you're stable in the hospital. You tell them everything. Psychotic break they think, suicide attempt. After all, yours was the only body in that car when they got there.

[pomefioredove]

"your lips would look so much better on mine" with idia please,,

hhhh confident idia brainrot is taking over help.. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCHH TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

OOH A CHALLENGE FOR ME. I will do my best for you anon!

summary: "your lips would look so much better on mine" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread, a game of chicken :)

If there's anything Idia Shroud is, it's competitive.

Over months of your friendship, you've learned one sure thing about him: challenging Idia to a game is a death sentence.

It's not just that he's played just about everything; it's that if he hasn't, he'll pick it up within minutes. And he'll play to the death.

"You've got a warrior's spirit, alright," you mutter, watching him pummel your character for the thousandth time.

Idia pauses his victory lap to smirk. "Awww, mad? Gonna rage quit?"

"I won the second time!"

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face just for it to fall back into place right after.

"I let you win, okay? It was a pity round. You suck at fighting games,"

"I do not!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the scoreboard," he grins, drawing the controller closer to his chest. "Another round?"

You don't like that smug look on his face.

"Actually... I want to play something else,"

Idia groans dramatically, flopping back on his bed and lying like a corpse. "If it's that thing again..."

"It's not the thing," you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "It's new. And it's one that I'll actually win."

That seems to intrigue him. He props himself up on his elbows. "Someone's getting cocky. What're we talking about?"

"You're one to talk. I want to play chicken,"

"Chicken? What are you, five?"

You elbow him in the ribs and he makes a noise like a deflating balloon.

"Not that kind. In this version, the loser is whoever gets embarrassed first,"

Idia, still cradling his side, raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to die of cringe. Are you serious?"

"What, afraid?"

He lowers his eyes. You're playing a dangerous game now; challenging him to a test of wills is walking into the lion's den. But you're not wrong, either; it's painfully easy to embarrass him.

"Fine, if it'll make you happy... one game,"

You clap, and then turn on the bed to face him. The "game" begins, and... nothing happens.

You stare. He stares. The air is heavy with... something.

Admittedly, you hadn't really thought this far ahead. Now you're confronted with the reality of actually having to do something, and...

Finally, Idia scoffs. "You're going to have to try a little harder than making eye contact,"

"I'm thinking!" you say quickly, feeling your face warm. "I'd like to see you do better!"

"Psh," he rolls his eyes, though he seems to be caught in a similar dilemma, not actually wanting to make the first move.

"...You're so cringe. Fine, okay?"

Idia scoots closer, using his height to his advantage by actually sitting up straight for once.

You catch him glancing between you and the shelves behind you. He leans in, his breath grazing against your neck. And his voice drops to a whisper.

"Your lips would look so much better on mine,"

You fall backwards, though you're not really sure why.

"Dude!" you sputter, struggling for words. "That was your opener?!"

Idia blinks, looming over you, taking his time revel in your reaction... and then he grins.

"You're like, the worst gamer in history. One corny sentence and you K.O.? And I'm supposed to be the shy one... you're even worse than me!" he snickers. "What would you do if I actually did kiss you? Implode?"

You groan, and sit up. "Alright, I get it, you win! Let's go back to your dumb fighting game,"

Idia stands, blocking your path with that same grin.

"No, no, I like your game way more. Let's play some more rounds- maybe I'll even let you win one,"

[ennn]

Re: “Rio's goal is to kill Agatha so she can be with her forever”

My brother in Christ, if Rio's ultimate goal this series was to kill Agatha we wouldn't have gotten past the first episode.

Okay okay, I get how it can be confusing because Rio literally says she wants to see Agatha dead in episode one and tells Agatha she'll let the Salem Seven (who do want Agatha dead) know where she is.

But it is noteworthy that Rio tells Agatha what she is going to do and when the Salem Seven are expected to arrive. Rio is usually surprisingly fair in how she deals with Agatha.

Rio has always met Agatha at her power level

In episode one, even assuming Agatha was protected by Wanda's spell and Rio couldn't harm her there, once it was broken Rio went "full analog" – to quote Hahn – with her knife, the only magic she used being the wind blasts.

Guys, that's not a serious murder attempt, that's foreplay to them. Violent, bloody, sexy foreplay.

Also Rio has healing powers. That's a thing they have very clearly shown.

To be clear, my read is that Rio can't actually kill anyone before their time ("You can't kill me, it's not allowed") just hurt them really really badly until they maybe choose to die ("I can make you wish you were dead"). Which you could argue equals killing I suppose, just slower.

But this is Agatha Harkness: all she really needs to survive is a bit of time to scheme and manipulate and do her usual girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting – and I think Rio also knows this. Agatha keeps surprising her, for better and worse.

Yes, Rio gets BIG MAD in episode 8 because Agatha says possibly The Worst Thing to her but the first part of their confrontation is technically physical torture, not murder attempts.

I know it sounds like I'm splitting hairs here but my point is that having Agatha dead isn't Rio's ultimate #1 goal. It's not so clean and easy.

There's something to be said about how the wounds Rio inflicts speak to how Rio sees herself hurt by Agatha emotionally in the relationship i.e. death by a thousand cuts, the severing of her Achilles tendon.

There’s probably something also be said about the relationship a being like Rio has with physical pain. Trees feel pain. Everything living does. Rio mocks Agatha for dulling herself to it using dark magic.

But I digress.

Anyway, note: it's only after Agatha gets magic back that Rio starts throwing magic blasts – and even then she seems to be holding back.

These two are possibly the worst two witches to fight each other directly like this because Agatha can't absorb Rio's magic or she'll die. She has to actively block or avoid all hits. And I bet this isn't something Agatha is used to dealing with considering she had no issues taking Wanda's magic.

And Rio is aware of this because she’s just lobbing quick little green blasts Agatha's way. It's not a torrent of magic like what Agatha is gleefully unleashing.

It's also the Watsonian (in-universe) explanation as to why this fight is so short. Because you literally can't straight up fight Death. Rio is a hard counter to Agatha's special siphoning ability just like how Agatha was a hard counter to Wanda's magic (insert your scissors-paper-stone visual of choice).

Rio doesn't want Agatha dead, she wants Agatha to want her

It's clear that Rio is grieving when Agatha dies. This isn't the outcome she wants. They're also both crying during the kiss it's great.

Rio wants what Agatha specifically tries to deny in the deal Agatha proposes: she wants to keep pursuing Agatha, to keep seeing her, provoking her, to be shocked and surprised by her. To keep loving her but also, to keep hurting her.

Because Agatha also hurts her right back. And Agatha knows she has Rio constantly on the emotional backfoot, that Rio – despite centuries of hatred thrown her way – still humours her more often than not and what levers to push.

I don't think this can happen with Agatha dead and gone.

To be fair, we don't know what the rules are in this world's afterlife. The only insight we get into Rio's job is her scene with Alice and that still leaves a lot of things unanswered: Does Rio just escort souls to a destination or does she have more control beyond that, like a domain? Can souls refuse to go with Rio? How do ghosts happen?

I had previously assumed Rio needed to allow it but Schaeffer says that her vision in that moment has Agatha's using an evolved form of the power to take Rio's magic by touch.

And with that, it's telling that it's Agatha who ultimately ensures that she dies (with the "calculated risk" of becoming a ghost), siphoning Rio's death magic energy.

Agatha embraces death, embraces Rio, but she also doesn't – Rio's clever witch got away again.

[r0tting-rat]

I WAS BORED DURING PSYCHOLOGY CLASS SO ENJOY THIS

Pairing: Sun & Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Slightly suggestive Words: idk Summary: Sun finds out new stuff about you

It was 10 pm on a random Monday, it was flu season, and you were going to leave the daycare in almost an hour and a half. The day had been slow, the kids had been few, which of course meant that by 9:30 you had already finished cleaning the entire area, much to your dismay. Bored to the core, you were scribbling on a piece of paper with a pen left by the other security guard, thinking on what to do to not melt into a puddle of misery, and immediately your eyes traveled up to Sun. The bot was rearranging blocks a few feet away from your desk, probably just as bored as you, and the corners of your mouth began to rise.

-Sun?- you called him, watching with interest as his head snapped in your direction and a wide smile opened on his flat faceplate.

-Yeeeess, little constellation?- he asked, standing up with all the grace a machine could have. -Do you wanna show me your drawing?-

-Oh, no, fuck no!- you laughed, balling up the piece of paper in your hand and throwing it inside the bin under the desk, -I'd rather die. Come here.-

Sun didn't worry about your refusal, it was a common occurrence between the two of you to bicker and fight about your views on art. Sun claimed that everything made with effort had to be considered "art", while you said that your mad scribbles were not even close to a proper drawing, therefore, he had no reason to insist on seeing them.

-Language, dear,- Sun chimed, coming to stand right in front of you, -Must I remind you what happens to potty-mouths in my daycare?-

Rolling your eyes, you took your phone out of your pocket, inserting the password and entering your phone gallery.

-Yes, yes, Moon has already showed me countless of times,- you told him, -Now, look at this.-

You turned your phone around to show Sun a meme you had saved, waiting for him as he read, with your arm outstretched towards him as you tapped the surface of the desk with your other hand.

-Are you done?- you asked after a while, and at your question Sun's single brow furrowed.

-Is that your cat?- the jester asked back, still looking confused.

-No, that's just a meme, a template of a cat that became famous on the internet,- you explained, letting Sun grab your phone and hold it out in front of him, still studying the picture.

-Why does it want to put me in its basement?- Sun's voice sounded concerned, almost scared, -What did I do to be put in a basement?!-

-It's just a funny meme, Sun!- you were quick to reassure him, -It's supposed to make you laugh!-

-I don't like cats,- said Sun, looking back at you, -They rumble and make weird vibrating sounds when I pet them. I don't like basements either, they're too small for me to stand in and too dark for my taste.-

-Alright, alright, understood,- you sighed, -I just wanted to make you smile a little, but nevermind.-

You had hoped to show your animatronic coworker something new, something funny that would have surprised him and made him laugh, but worrying him wasn't part of the deal. Just as you reached to get your phone back, Sun began to scroll.

-Do you have more of these memes?- he asked, and your eyes widened.

-W-Wait, Sun, wait!-

It was too late, Sun had begun to scroll through your photos, looking through each of your pics with interest. You stood up and attempted to snatch the device away, but Sun spun his torso around to get out of your reach.

-Sun, give it back!- you screamed, grabbing his shoulders and trying to climb on his back.

-Is that me?!- Sun was saying, incredulous, -Did you take photos of me and Moonie while working?!-

Your face was burning, you were beyond embarrassed, but the attendant still refused to give your phone back to you.

-It's not what it looks like!- you whined, but at each photo Sun's eyes got bigger. A zoom-in of his face as he laughed, a close up of one of his drawing, a selfie you had taken during naptime with an unsuspecting Moon, a full body picture of Sun as he was carrying a child with a scraped knee around the daycare; warm and gentle as he always tried to be around those small and soft humans. Looking back at you, Sun found you with an adorable blush dusting your cheeks and neck.

He wondered how far down that beautiful red tint went. Cute.

-Dear?- Sun called you, crossing his arms over his chest while still keeping your phone in his hand, -Why do you have so many photos of me and Moonie in your phone?-

You didn't know what to say. How could you excuse your behavior? Technically, you weren't even allowed to use your phone during working hours. You chose to tell the truth.

-A while back, a friend of mine didn't believe me when I said that you and Moon are... terribly cute,- you spoke the last two words in a whisper, -A-And hot, v-very hot... So I started showing her pictures, you know? B-But, the more photos I took, the more... intimate it felt.-

Realizing that what you said could have been taken the wrong way, you were quick to correct yourself.

-N-Not intimate as in...! I m-mean, intimate as in private! I didn't want to share things with her anymore, but... I kept taking pictures.- Swallowing, you stared at the ground. -Sorry, I... Fuck, I don't know what came over me.-

Sun didn't say anything. For a moment, the entire daycare turned completely silent, and you waited for the robot to say something, anything at all. You were ashamed beyond comprehension.

Suddenly, you heard a loud whirring cutting the silence, along with the hiss of steam being blown out of vents. Looking up, you found Sun with his eyes closed, his face contorted into an almost pained grimaced, retracted rays, and steaming joints. His internal fans were working overtime to keep him cool, but the animatronic was visibly overheating.

-...Sun?- you attempted to say, hoping the jester wasn't too mad at you, -Are you okay?-

-No,- he hissed in response, low and angry, -I'm not okay, starbeam, at all.-

You didn't know what to do. Feeling guilty, you started to consider leaving the daycare early, to give him more space, but by the looks of it, Sun wasn't planning to let go of your phone anytime soon.

-Don't you dare to leave,- Sun suddenly grabbed you by a wrist, and you were surprised by how easily he had read your intentions. With a gentle tug, he pushed you between his arms, against his chest. -Not after all you have done to me.-

Standing so close, you could feel the heat radiating from his chassis, which warmed you up to your very core. His white eyes stared down at you—through you—making you feel uncovered, naked, observed. A smile opened on his face, and Sun giggled, happy to see you so confused and surprised.

-Do you think you could stay a bit after hours today?- he asked you, -After all, potty-mouths need to be taught a lesson, bad adults need to be punished!-

The last sentence was said in a deeper and equally familiar voice; not quite Sun anymore, but similar to the rough vocals of another animatronic. It was the end of the hour, the lights in the daycare were beginning to dim, and the blue and black hues of the daycare attendant were starting to stand out. Moon was coming out, and it looked like he was on the same note as Sun, regarding your punishment.

He giggled while you stared up at him, cast in the red light of his eyes. Beautiful, pretty, pretty, pretty.

-...Moon?- you asked, -What... What are you planning?-

-Oh, don't you worry, my star!- Moon said, holding both of your hands and beginning to spin around, dragging you in a weird dance in the middle of the darkened daycare, -You like us, right?-

Unable to lie while looking him straight in the eyes, you slowly nodded, swallowing down the knot in your throat.

-Like-like us, right?- he asked once more, and again you nodded. -Perrrrfect then.-

His purr reverbrated through your chest, down to your stomach, making your knees weak and your legs unsteady.

-I have the perfect punishment for you then, my dearest,- he said, lowering his faceplate so he could be at the same level of your ears. The moment the hot air of his hands hit your flushed skin, you flinched. -How about you tell me everything you have told your friend about us, mh? All your dreams, all the times you wanted to hold us, to touch us, to kiss us.-

You would have sworn Moon was doing that on purpose, embarrassing you minute after minute, making you feel hotter second after second. Closing your eyes, you cursed out loud, unable to keep your calm anymore.

-Such a naughty star,- Moon giggled, pulling away, finally letting you breathe, -A naughty star with a naughty tongue.-

[shokosbunny]

CRAVE - chapter four

nav 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

masterlist 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ • previous 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

chapter warnings: mild angst, reader going through it

by the time you reach the apartment that yuji and megumi share with some second year boys, you're drenched, shaking, sniffling, and a million percent ready to break up with your no good, mannerless, sorry excu-

“y/n?” a soft voice says, cutting off your hateful internal monologue.

“yuji,” you murmur back, as the pink haired boy immediately has you wrapped in a towel before you're fully in the door.

“oh, you poor thing,” he fusses. “you must be so cold. i had yuta put another towel in the dryer, so when-”

“yuta lives here?!” you interrupt, dumbfounded. in your defence, none of you ever went in depth about the intricacies of your living arrangements, and you have never been to yuji’s apartment until just now.

“yeah,” he replies, his brown eyes glittering with amusement. “why? excited to see him again?”

“no!” you vehemently deny, but the look in yuji’s eyes compels you to tell the truth. “....maybe. but he can't see me like this, i look like a-”

“too late,” another voice interjects, emerging from the hallway. this voice is smooth and intoxicating.

“yuta,” you breathe out, clutching the towel that's wrapped around you like it's your shield.

“y/n. what happened?” he asks as he approaches. yuji steps back and disappears, probably to the room he shares with megumi. in the meantime, yuta has an arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the biggest couch in the living room.

“just got caught in the rain at the wrong time. my place is farther from where i was. i hope you don't mind.”

yuta immediately shakes his head. he thinks you look adorable, but has enough sense not to vocalise this thought when you're probably in a horrendous mood. “no, no. it's fine.”

silence falls for a few moments before he speaks up again, tentative. “couldn't you call your boyfriend to pick you up?” he asks, his gaze inquisitive but not prying.

you shake your head. “his phone was dead,” you lie. you don't even know why you're covering for that bastard.

“shame,” yuta responds. you get the sense that he doesn't give a single shit about your boyfriend, but has the decency to keep it to himself.

“yeah,” you nod. yuta’s arm that rests around your shoulders hasn't moved, and the warmth from his body is seeping through the towel and into your bones. he’s holding you like you're something fragile, worth keeping safe.

you don't remember the last time naoya held you like this outside of a sexual context.

the thought makes a tear trickle down your cheek. then another. then another. until you're fully crying in the arms of a boy you only properly met less than a week ago.

“shh, shh, it's okay,” yuta coos softly, pulling your face into his chest and gently stroking your hair. this only makes you cry harder, because here you are, comparing this sweet boy to your no good boyfriend. you then feel even worse, because why are you in the arms of another boy when you have a boyfriend?

yuta is stuck. he doesn't know if he's making it better or worse, but you aren't pulling away so he has to be doing at least one thing right.

he hopes.

“i lied,” you confess tearfully. you don't even know why, but something about the pure warmth radiating from his soul gives you the inexplicable urge to be honest. “naoya’s phone didn't die. he t-told me to meet him and th-then he blocked me and left me stranded on purpose cuz he was mad at me for blocking him after my birthday.”

“oh,” yuta exhales, holding you tighter, but still making sure to be gentle. from everything he's heard about that boyfriend of yours, he can only conclude that he must be a motherless egoist who gets off on making other people miserable.

but again, this is neither the time nor place to express that.

“i’m s-sorry for dumping all th-this on you, but i just f-felt like i had to tell someone,” you continue, snapping yuta out of his train of thought.

“don't apologise,” he reassures, the gentle caress of his hand in your hair not ceasing. “let it out, pretty. i’m here.”

pretty.

you don't remember the last time naoya called you pretty.

it’s always 'hot' or 'sexy' or something along those lines, but never just…pretty.

there's zero reason to stay with him. and after today, the number of reasons to stay with him are in the negatives.

what are you gonna do?

next 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

tags: @toniseweje @tsukuhoe @itsafairytalekay @ayla-1605 @moncher-ire @rikaroses @starrysho @blu3-l0v3r @number0netrash @zayuriluvs @susiekern @mikamii25 @vorfreudevortex @q2uq2u

[colorfullyminded]

TLDR

Okay I cannot believe I'm about to go off like this, but this has been bothering me for awhile, and it's only making me more spiteful. I have been enjoying the influx of Billford art lately. Amazing, great wonderful. What I have Not been enjoying, is the absolute vitriol the Billdip fans have been getting since the influx of TBOB. I was a billdip shipper for awhile. Hell I was a billdip shipper when I was a Parapines shipper-- I liked shipping Dipper with boys. I was also like 14 or 15 at the time. Obviously, if you follow me now, you'll probably notice what my main ship for Dipper is. I grew out of Billdip, and moved on to Pinescone. I have been shipping Pinescone for 10 years. However, not once did I go around saying "Lol, glad I matured and became a better person and shipped something healthier", nor did I post in the billdip tag, condeming people for a fictional ship! And saying mine was better because it was less problematic.

"I'm really glad people stopped shipping Bill and Dipper together. Bill is a 1000 year old triangle demon, and Dipper is 13--" Stop. Repeat what you just said.

"Bill is 1000 year old triangle--"

Repeat that last word to me. "....triangle?" TRIANGLE! I'm sorry what?! This ship is already completely wild enough. You're getting mad at this fictional age gap-- AND BILL IS A FUCKING SHAPE! A FUCKING SHAPE! This ship was weird from the moment GO! And Billford isn't any better. IT'S STILL A SHIP WITH A FUCKING SHAPE! And you're going to sit on your high horse and look down on the Billdip community. On top of it-- they have an age gap too! Bill is still thousands of years old or whatever-- however long it's been, who knows? And Ford was in his 20s or so when he met Bill. That's still a huge, ridiculous age gap-- that Bill could easily use and manipulate; which he did....and then also caught feelings and became a sad ex, but that's beside the point~ Both of these ships are still insane. And again, the bigger thing I think people are just ignoring about these ships--is that Bill is a TRIANGLE! THREE LINES CONNECTED TOGETHER! And this is the hill you're going to die on? ...Cause apparently it's mine. First of all-- as many people pointed out-- Ford Pines did not exist until the second half of the final season. People couldn't ship Fordbill because there wasn't any Ford to introduce.

"Well, even before Ford, I never shipped Billdip! I always disliked it." ...Okay, that's totally fine. Not everyone needs to like or agree on the same ship. Lord knows there's probably people who don't really care for Pinescone either. There's a lot of popular ships that I can't stand. But I'm don't go into a ship tag I don't like, screaming to a void for self validation. I don't go around mocking other people for ships that they had in 2014-- or even still today! It doesn't matter! I did that when I was a kid-- and then realized that was rude, and it was better to just ignore the ships I didn't like and enjoy the ones that made me happy. And grow a community of kind, like minded friends. And listen, I am all for safe spaces and being able to block things that make you uncomfortable. I am not saying people who find the BillDip ship uncomfortable to be idiots or babies or overly sensitive-- or anything like that. I think if something makes you uncomfortable, that is okay and I think it's perfectly fine to blacklist a tag that you don't want to see. I also think it's imperative that people tag things as accurately as they can so people looking at your work can know if one of your pieces has a thing that they don't like-- and therefore can avoid. What I don't appreciate is the fanhate for this ship that is sprouting up like weeds. You can not like something, you can be disgusted by it (I have my Gravity Falls ships I can not stand, nor do I feel comfortable with), but attacking real people for a FICTIONAL SHIP-- two characters who are drawings on a piece of paper and can not be affected mentally, physically or emotionally by fanwork; who still retain the same shape after everything we put them through-- to the point that you send death threats, or threaten to Doxx, or just harass relentlessly, I have always found that more childish and disgusting. You are causing real world pain to people. Me fucking up Dipper Pines is not going to do anything to him-- because he doesn't actually exist. He's a cartoon character. I could squash him and stretch him in Wonka's taffy machine--- I could throw him mock speed at a wall and watch him explode on impact-- but he still exists. He's not dead; I can pick him up and dust him off, and If I wanted-- I could decide that eh, 'Not a scratch on him'. And I'd be right. Because he is a cartoon character, and I am just a fangirl. I can not change anything about him-- I have no ability to make anything I headcanon canon. And even if I was the original artist-- it doesn't change the fact that Dipper would still be nothing more than a creation. A construct of shapes; he can not be hurt or traumatized in a way that leads to real life consequences-- because he is not real. I am not a cartoon character. My friends are not cartoon characters. Artist and Writers who stay in their lane...are not cartoon characters. If you hurt us...it will linger. It will leave a scar. If you can not tell the difference between Fiction and Reality, then I think maybe media might be too much to handle-- and I think you need to really reevaluate yourself.

And just to vent some other things that i keep seeing that are frustrating: You can't claim the twins are only 13-- and then on August 31st go "Happy 20-something Birthday Mabel and Dipper!" And then proceed to drop a picture of them as adults. Well which is it? Do they age or not? Because Gravity Falls showed them canonically aging. If you think the twins age-- then you can't suddenly turn around and go, 'no you can't ship them-- Dipper is a child!' but you drew him as an adult. So sorry, it looks like you can't draw the twins grown up anymore. You claimed they're 13, so better draw them 13 forever--. Aged up stories and works exist for a reason, especially for a fan who grew up on the series. The characters might have grown up alongside them. It's not unlikely for a person to ship Billdip when Dipper is much older.

And on that note, for people who are like 'well older billdip is fine-- it's just people shipping him during the show that deserve to die.' Okay... and like I said, this rant is coming from a recent influx of Billford shippers spitting on Billdip shippers. You know? The TOXIC Old Man Yaoi!

You're still shipping something that is problematic. You are still shipping something twisted and wrong. And I am not judging you. I am here for this divorced arc. I am thriving. But you can't just pick and choose what is and isn't okay. And let me first off explain; if there is something that personally triggers you about a toxic ship, and you want to avoid that-- again, perfectly understandable. Perfectly reasonable. You are the makers of your content space. And I am not judging anyone for that. I want people to be safe. I want people to have a good time in fandom spaces. I want people to not have to deal with the things that upset them or frighten them, or disgust them. But you can not say one is fine, and one is not. They're both bad! They're both toxic. In real life, these ships would both be charged with serious crimes! And yes, there are some crimes that are worse than others, and if you asked me what I thought was more problematic-- I'd say Billdip-- but both of these ships are extreme, and severe in their problematic content. You are still consuming problematic content. If it's a personal thing, that's fine; avoid it. But don't sit there throwing stones from your glass house.

[kleptozoology]

Yall are the Nazi's useful idiots. Block me.

I don't have mutuals because if I give any of you long enough you'll inevitably prove to be Jew Haters. I've blocked half this hellsite because you crypto-fascists masquerading as progressives can't read my pinned post BEGGING you to block me first. "Haha this person posts funny/informative posts. I'll follow them! ...Oh wait they mindlessly eat up nazi and terrorist propaganda like they're fistfuls of shredded cheese direct from the fridge at 2AM. Well nevermind then. Unfollow/blocked." Palestine will not be free or at peace with Israel destroyed and Hamas in control. Hamas has been murdering, raping, and torturing Palestinians for almost 2 decades. On top of that, so many of yall regurgitate nazi conspiracies and blood libel like you are vultures vomiting up worms to feed other mindless pawns of the Far Right. Leftists have been doing more legwork to promote the agenda of fascism than any Proud Boy or Neo-Nazi Gun Club has in years. Do I seem mad? I am mad. I'm mad that those I care about have to start making plans for when their home countries kick them out or hunt them down. For when YOU hunt them down. Not "if." WHEN. They know that they have nowhere to turn but Israel, the one place that has never turned them away. Every single country refused Jewish refugees during World War 2, during to pogroms, during the purges. Every single one. With one exception. Israel. That's why Israel must survive. Because without Israel, the Jewish people may not. They are a remarkably tenacious people, survived everything the world has ever thrown at them. The Romans, the Nazis, the Soviets, everything. But I don't want my loved ones to be in survival mode for every subsequent generation to follow. I want them to be and feel safe. That's what this is about. Safety. Jewish people, AND Palestinians, are being held hostage by Hamas. Women, children, elderly, the disabled. If you want a ceasefire, then they must be released. It's honestly the simplest and easiest demand Israel could make. Return the innocent. And yes they are innocent. They're only crime was not being Hamas, a crime so many of you openly believe deserves the death penalty. You want to free Palestine? Free Palestine from 17 years of Hamas tyranny. Demand that the hostages be released. Only then can their be a ceasefire. You can't expect Israel to just lay down arms while her people are having their heads cut off. Are you stupid or do you just want Jews to die that badly? Don't answer that. Two things can be true. Free Palestine from Hamas. Free Israel from Netanyahu. Release the hostages, negotiate ceasefire. Stop parroting Far Right propaganda. Jump off the bigoted bandwagon. Failing that, STFU and block me. I'm sick of this shit. Eat glass.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 41, part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Nie Mingjue and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Empathy continues, jumping to Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue's encounter in Nightless City. Once again, let's look at how we saw it the first time around.

In Episode 22, Nie Mingjue unwisely decided to do a stealth advance push on Nightless City, as if "stealth" and "Nie Mingjue" ever belonged in a sentence together. After his inevitable capture, Meng Yao rocks up and says hey.

We cut away to the battle outside and then come back inside where NMJ hits MY with a palm strike.

Meng Yao actually expresses anger for once, knocking NMJ over with a kick, and yelling at him for being rude in front of MY's new boss, Wen Ruohan.

NMJ comes after him again but Wen Ruohan gets involved and the fight turns into NMJ vs. WRH until Nie Mingjue is knocked out. He ends up on the floor surrounded by dead or unconscious Nie cultivators; we don't see, at this time, how they got that way.

(More behind the cut!)

In Episode 41: the encounter in front of Wen Ruohan starts the same way, but Meng Yao taunts Nie Mingjue, fondles his shoulder, and then kills a couple of his wingmen.

Meng Yao--Wen Yao?--has never looked better. He's still rocking Nie braids and Nie colors - with a nice snake pattern trimming his robe. I'd like to say this is evidence of his snakey nature, but the idea that snakes are bad and sneaky is a biblical concept, not a Chinese one.

Anyway the important thing about his look here is that his makeup is gorgeous and his demeanor is totally confident. Unfortunately I can't find the tumblr post that talks about his sassy ex-boyfriend energy in this scene, but it was a wise observation.

Nie Mingjue's sidekicks provoke Meng Yao into killing them - one by insulting the hall they're in, and the next by calling him 走狗-- literally "running dog," but Viki translates it as "lackey."

"Lackey" is a little insulting but it's basically a job description, whereas Meng Yao's reaction to being called "running dog" is more like the way people react to being called "boot licker" in English. I'm not saying it should be translated this way, however - feet have a whole lot of meanings across cultures. I think it could have just been translated "running dog" because by 41 episodes into this show, we have learned that calling someone a dog is rude and insulting, thank you Wen Chao.

Anyhoo, after Meng Yao kills the second dude he asks if anyone else wants to call him 走狗, and Nie Mingjue immediately does. Meng Yao just smiles and has his own lackeys bring Baxia, in a fancy box, to him.

Then he fondles the blade while explaining that he's been spending some quality time with it. Nie Mingjue watches helplessly, unwilling to beg but afraid of whatever's going to happen.

Meng Yao tells him that his Dad's sword was better than his, and asks him to guess how many times WRH will have to strike Baxia to break it. I'm saying "strike," but Viki translates it as "smack" and Netflix translates it as "spank," with questionable results. How many times WILL Wen Ruohan spank it, I wonder?

Meng Yao taunts him some more: Wen Ruohan broke NMJ's father's saber and sent it back to him, which caused him to die of anger. He says this while getting up in NMJ's space and putting on an expression of ecstacy.

NMJ hits him, since that's his solution to everything; Meng Yao gets mad and kicks Nie Mingjue to the floor. It's not clear to me why Meng Yao talks so much shit if he doesn't want to get hit.

Aftermath

The confrontation where Xichen protects Meng Yao is the same as episode 23, up to a point. Nie Mingjue wakes up in Lan Xichen's manly arms and has a moment of happiness before seeing Meng Yao standing by holding Baxia.

NMJ goes to attack him but Lan Xichen protects Meng Yao and explains his whole spying gig -- calling him A-Yao, which has gotta chap Nie Mingjue's ass.

Lan Xichen can block a blow from Baxia one-handed. Hot.

There's a nice parallel here, where Meng Yao uses Lan Xichen as a human shield, similar to Wei Wuxian using Lan Wangji to protect him from Fairy in Episode 34.

Wei Wuxian is, of course, way more handsy about it.

Meng Yao passive-aggressively tells Lan Xichen that he didn't explain his actions because that big meanie Nie Mingjue wouldn't have believed him anyway, and then he kneels in front of Nie Mingjue. That's as much as we got of that whole encounter, in Episode 23.

In Episode 41, after Meng Yao kneels, he explains his situation and said that he only said all that dickish stuff to Nie Mingjue to gain Wen Ruohan's trust, and he's sorry about hurting his feelings.

Nie Mingjue says how about you kneel to those dudes you killed.

Lan Xichen tells Nie Mingjue that yes, A-Yao did horrible things, but I believe that in his heart he… we don't hear the rest because Nie Mingjue interrupts by destroying a lantern, but we don't need to hear the rest because it's the same thing Lan Xichen says all the fucking time; it's become his core belief in the years since.

Meng Yao is surprised that it's the lantern that died and not him, but Nie Mingjue is in an impossible situation. Meng Yao has recruited Xichen so completely to his side that if Nie Mingjue wants to stay friends with LXC, he has to accept Meng Yao . You can see in his face that he knows he's beat.

Continued in part 3!

[azrielstaylorsversion]

To remember

Azriel x reader

Warnings: death, grieve, murder

When Feyre asks Azriel about a certain ring around his finger, the whole room turns quiet. But none of his family members expect him to reply to the question.

Coming home to my family gathered in the living room of the River House was always going to be my favorite thing.

The last week hadn't been a particular easy one, but I had managed to live through it, like I always would.

Cassian passed me a glass of wine, telling me that I needed it. I knew he meant it as a joke, but his sympathetic smile told me enough.

We didn't really speak about it anymore, since it had been decades. None of us did. But the weight of the ring around my finger of my left hand weighed more than usual this week.

I felt Feyre's eyes on me. When I looked at her she smiled, but I soon noticed that her eyes weren't on my face. No, they were on my hand. My left hand.

She was probably just looking at my scars. Most people did. It did bother me a bit, but with my family it was different.

"Azriel, can I ask you something?" Feyre asked. The entire room turned quiet, everyone's attention on me and Feyre.

"Of course." I answered, even though I was not sure I wanted to answer it.

"I keep noticing the ring on your left hand. You seem to play with it a lot. What does it stand for?"

If the room could've turned even more quiet than before, it would.

Feyre looked around in confusion. "Oh sorry, I-..." Rhys put a hand on her arm.

"Feyre, I don't think-"

"No, it's okay." I cut him off. Rhys looked at me.

You don't have to talk about it. He spoke into my mind.

I gave him a tight mouthed smile. I would rather tell her the story myself. She deserves to know about her.

I knew that I wasn't the only one having a hard time with telling this story. Mor had lost her best friend. Cassian and Rhys had lost their best friend. Even Amren had lost a friend that day, if she could even have friends.

And I lost a mate that day.

Feyre looked at me with curiosity, waiting for me to start talking.

"It belongs-.. belonged to my mate." I told her, my eyes on the beautiful ring.

It was gold with a blue stone inside of it. The color of my siphons, like she had requested.

"I'm sorry." Feyre said quietly.

I gave her a sad smile. "I had it altered so it would fit around my finger. I have my own matching one in my room."

Feyre hesitated before speaking. "When did she... pass away?"

"Around 50 years ago." I answered. "51 years to be exact. Just a few weeks before Rhys went Under the Mountain."

"How long were you two together for?" she asked.

I twisted the ring around my finger, smiling to myself. "For a long time. Close to a century." I thought I might go crazy at some point after losing her while having been together for such a long time. But I didn't eventually.

The first few years were super hard. Even harder since I had lost my mate and brother within the span of a few weeks. I remember Cassian and Mor being helpless all the time, not knowing how to help me from going mad.

I blocked everyone out. I didn't talk or sleep for months.

Eventually I got the courage to go into our old room in the Town House, where we would stay most of the time. I found her ring there. The ring she had purposely left there the day she was killed. She had left it there for me along with a note, telling me that she knew she was going to die. That she wanted me to live a happy life.

Something changed after that day. I immediately took the ring to a jeweler who made it fit my finger so I was able to carry a piece of her with me at all time.

I was able to talk again. To sleep, even though the nightmares haunted me.

"What was she like?" Feyre questioned softly.

I had to keep myself from smiling again. "She was the best. She was kind, smart, hardworking, and always selfless." I told her, adding a sad smile at the end.

The rest of my family smiled at the memory of her.

"The selfless part was one of her best qualities, but also the one that..." I hesitated before speaking. But I wanted to tell Feyre. "That got her killed."

Everyone around the room stiffened, but I decided to continue. Maybe it was time I would say something about it. To tell her story.

"She volunteered to go on a mission for us. To check out the next plans of Hybern. Of Amarantha. She knew that there was going to be a possibility of dying from the moment she volunteered, but decided it was best to not tell us." I started. "She knew that if I knew about it, if Rhys knew about it, we would offer to go ourselfs. But still she decided to go. When the bond closed off I got so worried. At one point I stopped feeling her."

"We got a message from the Hewn City the next day that there had been a body found on their doorsteps. We immediately went to look." I swallowed hard. "I will never forget what I saw." I decided to spare Feyre the details.

I had to blink back the tears at remembering the memories of all those yours ago.

"I'm sorry that happened to you Azriel." Feyre spoke softly.

I sniffed. "Not only to me. She was important to all of us. To many people in this court." I said. "She would've loved you." I smiled at Feyre.

Feyre's face lit up at my words.

Rhys raised his glass. "To our beloved friend." Everyone raised their glasses.

The rest of the night was spent talking about her. Everyone shared their favorite stories about her.

It was late when I finally retreated to my room again. My mind kept wandering to her. I kept twisting the ring around my finger until the weight of sleep took over.

I could've sworn I saw a star shine extra brightly into my room.

[riacte]

"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."

[the-way-astray]

keefe would not like me and i don't like him: masterpost

hey everyone . . . there are too many freaking strieefe things now. sigh. so naturally it's time for a masterpost . . . but before that i should clear up some misconceptions probably

this is a bit. i am not actually mad. if i was i would make a more serious-toned post telling strieefe anons and non-anons to knock it off

having said that i am vehemently and utterly anti strieefe. awful, awful ship. horrendous. will fight the people that ship it until the day i die

this post explains the origins of strieefe

yes, i am okay with strieefe fics being posted to ao3 (i've had a couple of anons ask me this). if you happen to do this, tag me as stria sixteen. also send me the fic. i want to read it

i am not okay with smut (nobody has done this yet, but just to be clear) . . . but anything up until that point is fine. the makeout fic was fine. the only-one-bed trope was fine. the shirtless keefe was fine

please please please please if you are going to send me fics, name them. name them!!!! it doesn't have to be a profound, thoughtful name (this is strieefe, after all, cringe is expected). but all fics are tagged by their names, and it helps keep things organized, so please!!!! i also tag all asks i receive with the asker's url, so fics are also tagged by the writer's url (or anon)

the general strieefe tag (for me) is #keefe would not like me and i don't like him. it is blockable. do with this information what you will. other people may use different tags. if you don't want to see strieefe-related stuff at all, i also recommend blocking off #strieefe and #to strieefe or not to strieefe

alayda is a menace but i don't hate her. stop sending me weird asks about her. they will be deleted

katie is a traitor to the sokeefe nation

always forever by alayda (@alaydabug2) and @ishipstrieefe (pro)

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

never change by lisa (@lisalovesapplesauce) (pro)

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

hate your lover, love your hater, and be studied by her friend by doe (@worldsunlikemyown) (anti)

context

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

treehouse by treehouse anon (pro)

chapter one

pride pin by pride pin anon (anti)

chapter one

chapter two

sometimes grief is acceptance by alayda (pro)

chapter one

chapter two

hold me like a grudge by emelin (@thishumanformislimiting) (pro)

chapter one

miscellaneous alayda fics (pro)

high on your love

the way to my heart is an a+

love in the air

chapter forty-two au (actually this one might be anti)

only your warmth

crossover (converted to anti by by me)

miscellaneous non-alayda fics (disclaimer: some of these could barely even be considered fics)

unnamed fic by anon one (anti)

unnamed fic by cricket (@gay-witches-are-the-best) (anti)

unnamed fix-it fic of alayda's makeout fic by anon two (anti)

unnamed fic by a.j. (@lgbtqforeverything) (anti)

unnamed fic by @kotlcpuppetshow (anti)

unnamed fic by anon three (anti)

atlantis blows the fuck up by anon four (????)

unnamed fic by @oopsies-maeve-did-a-thing (pro)

fanart (will it never end)

by alex (@the-soul-detectives) (pro)

fanart of alayda's chapter forty-two au by aspen (@aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen) (pro)

fix-it fanart of high on your love (alayda's makeout fic) by aspen (anti)

by connie (@absolutely-existing) (anti)

by alayda (pro)

by emelin (pro)

by emelin part two (pro)

by fin (@fintan-pyren) (pro)

fucking. songs. (and song-adjacent things like poems.) what world do i live in

unlikely couple by katie (@myfairkatiecat) (pro)

a ballad of keefe and stria by emelin (pro)

[glossdebut]

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

⇢ D I S C L A I M E R S !

✧ the majority of my works will contain some form of explicit sexual content and are not intended to be read by anyone under the age of 18. minors DNI! if your age isn't easily visible on your blog, i will not follow back. if you are a minor, you will be blocked from seeing my posts.

✧ i only post x reader fics. do not request member x member fics from me, please!

✧ i provide warnings for every work that i post. other than the previously mentioned explicit sexual content, it is likely that some of my work will also include difficult topics surrounding mental health. please read the warnings for everything that i post before reading and use your own discretion to decide if you want to proceed.

✧ any fic that i post is purely and entirely fictional in every single way imaginable. nothing that i write/post is intended to reflect how i feel about any of the members of bts. i do not know these men personally and i am not writing anything under the impression that i do. consider the members as face/name claims in my fics.

✧ do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing without my express permission to do so.

✧ bts antis will be blocked on sight. this goes for solos as well, but that will probably be harder to catch. i don't have anything to offer you! the tannies are soulmates in every universe including my fictional ones, and you WILL see members other than your desired member in my fics, even if they are not a part of the main couple. sorry! die mad.

⇢ K E Y !

[☁︎] angst ✧ [❀] fluff ✧ [დ] smut

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

coming soon!

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

SO HOT (YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS) ⇢ ☁︎ დ

『 seokjin x fem!reader, exes to lovers 』

SUMMARY: You haven’t heard from your ex, Seokjin, in a year. When you're invited to his best friend Yoongi's engagement party, you know you should say no, that you should just leave it alone. But you can't pass up the chance to show Seokjin what he lost.

⇢ S E R I E S !

TAKE A BITE ⇢ ❀ ☁︎ დ

『 yoongi x fem!reader, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers, slow burn 』

SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

『 STATUS: COMPLETE 』

PRICE OF FAME ⇢ ☁︎ დ

『 yoongi x fem!reader, rockstar yoongi, model reader, enemies to lovers, slow burn 』

SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

『 STATUS: ONGOING 』

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

STUDY BREAK ⇢ ❀ დ

『 yoongi x fem!reader, college au, established relationship 』

SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

COMING HOME (A TAKE A BITE DRABBLE)⇢ ❀ დ

『 yoongi x fem!reader, established relationship 』

SUMMARY: Yoongi’s been working hard lately, with lots of late nights holed up in his studio. When you wake up with no recollection of him coming home last night, you decide to show him just how much you’ve missed him.

EVERYTHING I WANT (A TAKE A BITE DRABBLE COLLECTION)⇢ ❀ დ

『 yoongi x fem!reader, established relationship 』

SUMMARY: The best part of being with Yoongi, from the very beginning, was that nothing had to change for either of you. You could be married to Yoongi and to your job at the same time, build your career from the ground up and never sacrifice a thing. But this? Having a baby? It’s all going to be sacrifice. It won’t be just you and Yoongi anymore, living in your precious little workaholic love bubble. Everything is going to change.

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

coming soon!

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

coming soon!

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

coming soon!

⇢ S E R I E S !

coming soon!

⇢ O N E S H O T S !

coming soon!

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[teddypoi-qd]

YOU - "Why are you here, Martin?"

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "Well, well, Prentiss is out there and you can’t run so –"

YOU- "I mean at the Archive in general. Why haven’t you quit?"

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "Are you giving me my review now?"

BEHIND YOU [Easy: Failure] - He's going to kill you for this one, boss.

PEOPLE PLEASER - Backpedal, now.

YOU - "No… We’re clearly doing a whole heart-to-heart thing and, truth be told, the question’s been bothering me. You’ve been living in the Archives for four months, constant threat of… this. Sleeping with a fire extinguisher and a corkscrew. Even you must be aware that that’s not normal for an archiving job? Why are you still here?"

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - He shifts under your scrutiny. His eyes flick towards the door.

THE COLONY - They writhe, blocking out the light from the hallway.

BEHIND YOU - You could still run. Maybe if you grit your teeth, you can push past them all.

PREMATURE ACHES - Your leg disagrees. You've lost enough blood to be somewhat woozy.

BOOTSTRAPS - Focus on the pain. It'll keep you sharp. Bite your cheek, focus back on him. He's speaking.

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "Don’t really know. I just am. It didn’t feel right to just leave. I’ve typed up a few resignation letters, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hand them in."

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - He isn't looking at you.

OXFORD - He doesn't like making eye contact at the best of times.

PEOPLE PLEASER - The anxiety of the situation can't be helping. There, see the tension in his jaw?

BEHIND YOU [Hard: Success] - Is that fear in his voice?

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "I’m trapped here. It’s like I can’t… move on and the more I struggle, the more I’m stuck."

GOOSEBUMPS [Medium: Success] - The way he says that... Could he be...?

[Goosebumps - Impossible 20] Work out why Martin hasn't quit yet.

-5 - Turn away your eye. It is not yet time. -2 - The Colony is very loud. Makes it hard to think. -1 - Leg hurts. +1 - Accepted Martin's help with the leg situation. +1 - Nothing better to talk about right now

2. "I feel that way too."

3. Back off for now.

YOU - Martin… You’re not, uh… You didn’t die here, did you?

OXFORD - Ghosts don't exist.

GOOSEBUMPS - Your job would beg to differ.

BEHIND YOU - The hairs on the back of your neck beg to differ.

THE COLONY - Begs to differ.

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "What? What? N-No… what?!"

PEOPLE PLEASER [Medium: Success] - He's not mad, really, boss. More than anything, he looks... Amused?

POWER [Easy: Failure] - Wait, no! Hold on! He can't laugh at you! Assert yourself, now! You're his boss!

YOU - "No, I just… No, just the way you phrased that…"

MARTIN BLACKWOOD - "Made you think I was a ghost?"

PEOPLE PLEASER - We're never coming back from this one, boss.