#As I said in an older post addressing this anon but my socials are a safe space for all members of the LGBTQ+

[palettepainter]

You guys remember that homophobic gay muppet anon I had that one time?? Could you imagine how fucking hilarious it’d be if they tried to make a comeback after Muppets Mayhem episode 6 was entirely dedicated to gay people??

[olderthannetfic]

Obvious Disclaimer that this is not about any specific anon in particular, not about OTNF themself, but that my following rant might *slightly* punch down on people who ARE, well, older than net fics are.

But my honest opinion is that I really don’t like it when us old heads tend to sorta…talk down to? “Adultsplain”, if that’s even a thing? To The Gen Zs, by being like “damn kids! back in my day we never used our real name or posted selfies or posted about our personal life at all!” Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people who never posted the real me — but not because I was anonymous and cared about online safety, because I was a liar 😂 That being said, there ARE older people who definitely over-shared or “doxxed” themselves and still do, and there’s younger people who don’t!

I also feel like being “ha, these stupid KIDS who post about their FANDOM LIFE on TIK TOCK under their REAL NAME AND FACE where IRLS CAN SEE THEM, how STUPID” is not doing anyone any favors. Is that, technically, a smart thing for kids to do? No. Has it become normalized? Yes. And does that suck for people who might be bullied or outed or whatever cuz they genuinely are dumb and don’t know better and then someone they don’t like sees their stuff? Yes.

We all talk about how there’s no more kids spaces on the internet and how that’s a shame, but then five seconds later we’ll reblog that one “At any time I’m at risk of seeing a 14 year olds opinion and that’s why I hate it here” post. There’s really so few kid spaces on the net now, that’s true. We should extend empathy and let the teens be obnoxious and pretentious in peace, rather than making it a point to “ratio” or “roast them.” Idk personally I’d be completely unbothered if some 14 year old insulted my fic or my ship or whatever. I’d just block and move on, no need to try to argue with them.

And also, not all kids are even pretentious or obnoxious! I’m not saying we all need to take the kids under our wings, but we should be careful about not hating them just for being in their teens years, you know?

Also… telling a teenager to not post PII or not get into discourse or not have social media or whatever will NOT work the way you want it to 😭 kids are by default a little bit oppositionally defiant so telling some rando teen to Get Off Your Lawn (blog) rather than just blocking them, will encourage said teen to Stay On Your Lawn.

I just hate how it’s become normal for adults to talk down to teens online. I was harassed by adults online as a kid, then years and years and years later i went through my own “Older Than You™️”phase where I myself was a shit to teenagers, and I truly regret that so much. To this day I still need to make an effort to be careful. I saw on Twitter where an adult posted a DM from a 13 year old, mocking them. The DM said “I’m 14 next year, can I follow you? Please don’t groom me.” And the adult OP was laughing at how stupid the dm was. A few years ago, I would’ve been one of the people retweeting that and rolling my eyes at the child. Now im disgusted by the people who WERE laughing at them.

And again I’m obviously not saying we should be “nice” to the teenagers who mock us for our ships or who virtue signal too hard. But we also don’t need to make fun of their CARRDS or call them Puri-teens or rag on them just for being 17 or younger, yk?

--

Teens aren't 'puriteens' just for being young, dude. They have to also be puritanical bullies.

I find the stuff about real names hilarious because, actually, if you're really Internet Old™, then you probably did use your real name... it was right there in your university e-mail address! Or your random early ISP address if your stepdad got it for you and thought the university format was the default. Thanks, stepdad.

I've done every single dumb thing from going to meet my internet pen pal at an Alice Cooper concert to flying to Ireland from Japan to stay with a fandom friend I'd never met without telling anyone where I was going and without a credit card or enough cash to flee if I had to. I remember sitting on the plane thinking "Man, this is such a CSI episode topic".

The really funny part was that despite what she'd said before I visited, we ran into each of her parents at different times and ended up going to a play courtesy of her uncle, and all of them were like "So how do you know each other?" and "But you'd met before, right? RIGHT?!"

The level of panopticon is horrifying now. Teens have my sympathy. That part really is worse, and I think it's driving an entire generation nuts and we're going to see even more shit about people wanting to run away and live in a cabin in the woods with no internet. But in general, I don't think we're so different.

[darthmaulification]

Okay Request idea! On your NSFW alphabet for Boba (btw I loved it so much!!!) you say he has an innocence/virgin kink which caters exactly to me, so could you write something where Boba takes the readers virginity and she’s just a lil innocent angel? I would be forever in your debt my love!!!! 💘❤️‍🔥💕❤️

A/N: I FINISHED IT BITCHES 😳 y’all, this bitch is TWENTY SEVEN PAGES long on google docs.

first and foremost, anon, literally i am so sorry this took SO LONG 😭😭🙏 just absolutely humiliated lmao 😔😢 jk jk but fr tho i hope this makes up for the wait!! 😖

and one final thing, i can’t responsibly post this fic without addressing that virginity is a social construct! it is not innate to a person, there is no medical evidence of virginity, it is a human invention historically influenced by religious and philosophical expectations of what dictates a person’s “purity”! THUS, virginity doesn’t influence your worth as a human at all, regardless of whether you’ve “lost” it or not. 😊👍 boba just likes being people’s firsts, especially when they’re a flustered, shy sub. ✌😌

(also, weirdly enough, this was very therapeutic for me to write, so if any of y’all also struggle with sex aversion/repulsion, i hope this was at least comforting to you as it was to me.)

that being said, i hope you enjoy! 💗

content: angst, smut, SO MUCH set up 💀, grief and healing, fem!afab!reader, 🚨reader is an ex-slave so there is mentions of slavery/servitude🚨, age gap (mostly implied), dom boba, sub reader, loss of virginity, boba is SUCH a service top in this one tho, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, use of a safeword (not out of pain), emotional sex 🥺, wine and dine bc boba is on some king shit 💯👑, 

word count: 14,185

He arrived in the midst of the blistering afternoon suns, preceded by a round of blaster fire.

Your dearest friend Varduhi recounted that after the sharp-eyed, raven-haired woman blasted her chain and freed her, he simply walked straight to the throne and shot Bib Fortuna dead. Before she fled to you, Varduhi also said that he tossed Fortuna’s body to the floor, and usurped the throne.

Now, she is leaving for her home village on Ryloth, escaping this place and Tatooine (hopefully) forever. Varduhi would take you with her, but the measly credits she’s managed to steal over her years of servitude only covered enough for transport off-world for one, and the small dagger you urged her to buy. All you want is your friend’s safety, her freedom, and you resign yourself to surviving this Hell for a bit longer.

“I will miss you, my freykaa.” Varduhi whispers against your hair, her hands rubbing your back in circular, soothing motions. Her long lekku, a heavy, familiar weight, are slung over your shoulders, like a second pair of arms holding you just as tight. Hugging her tighter, you dig your face into the crook of her neck, where your tears had dampened the black cloth of her top. Both of you have been steadily weeping into each other’s skin since Varduhi finished packing all her belongings into a rucksack. Now, you stand at the door to your quarters, embracing your goodbyes.

“I’ll miss you, too.” You say just as quietly, kissing the lek closest to your lips, then her cheek. The older Twi’lek smiles, as gorgeous and as sad as always, but this time in her smile you can see the relief of freedom. It shows in her eyes too, the regret of leaving you here, but the joy at finally going home. Varduhi unlatches herself from you to place her slender cobalt hands on your cheeks. You sigh at her touch, pressing yourself into her palms as you grip her elbows.

She sets her forehead against yours, her skin smooth and soft, and you close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of her, her friendship, her love, the kinder memories you both share.

Varduhi and you had both been kidnapped from your homes at very young ages, sold to the Palace when it was still Jabba’s. She had been older than you, not by a lot, but she treated you as though you were her little sister from day one, her protective spirit strong.

She kept you safe from the horrors of the Palace; from the criminals, scum, and other vagrants that would’ve had their terrible way with your body, from the humiliation of dancing half-nude for a sneering audience, from the perversion and cruelty of Bib Fortuna, and earlier, from the wrath of Jabba and his horrible Rancor pit.

Varduhi sacrificed so much for you over your years together, took a lot for you. She went through Hell and back, time and time again, for you. If there’s anything that Varduhi has to her name, it would be her gallant bravery, something that no one— not the slave traders, or Jabba, or Bib Fortuna— ever took from her. And it’s that bravery that’s survived her long enough to see the death of her two of her oppressors.

“You deserve this, Varduhi.” You say, breaking that long stretch of silence that was threatening to make you both shiver with doubt and uncertainty. Varduhi nods, her lekku shifting on your shoulders, and as she pulls away from you, hesitant like two magnets being separated, she plants a kiss to your forehead, sealing you with her love. Your hands lock together, and she squeezes gently.

“I will remember you always, and I will love you forever.” She says, her eyes misty, and she concludes by saying your name, which makes your heart weep. Though no tears fall from your eyes, not as you stare at your friend, the beautiful, strong woman she is, all azure fire and survival.

“I love you too.” You whisper, and Varduhi’s lekku twitch in goodbye, and her hands leave yours, fingers trailing down your palms as she pulls from you like a wave receding. The moment her fingertips withdraw entirely from yours, that last physical connection broken, Varduhi pivots on her heel, her violet eyes sending one final look that says “I love you” and “I’m sorry”.

Then, she’s out of the door before you can blink, leaving behind a trace of her desert flower perfume, the musty dark room, all of the spaces that were once her empty, and you, alone. You stand in the same spot for a few minutes longer, until your legs start moving and you sit on your bed in the corner. The thin, cruddy mattress and scratchy blanket are familiar as you lie down, but the absence of Varduhi is not.

You weep again through the whole first night without her.

In the morning, when you wake up from a dreamless sleep and to the brilliantly melancholic dawn of Tatooine’s twin suns, you think of your new... Master. The man on the throne, once a renowned bounty hunter that Jabba employed, who was meant to be long dead in the Great Pit of Carkoon, whom whispers said survived by the skin of his teeth and probably a whole lot of luck too.

A walking dead man, the prodigal son of Tatooine:

Boba Fett.

~

It’s not until two weeks later, when you’re without Varduhi and still aching, does he call an assembly of all the slaves and other staff still at the Palace.

Standing in the throne room next to Batu, one of the gruff Gamorrean guards who is relatively nice to you, you keep as quiet as everyone else, awaiting the arrival of your Master. The woman who had retrieved you, who you assume is the same woman that freed Varduhi, leans against the throne’s backrest, arms crossed over her chest, a long rifle slung on her back. Her dark eyes roam the room, her face piqued with near-unreadable curiosity blanketed over amusement.

“You all are a quiet lot.” She says teasingly, her voice bouncing off the stone walls of the palace, and instinctively you look down. No one replies, all just half-hearted nods and barely there murmurs of affirmation. You learned very long ago that it’s always best if you say nothing and agree silently.

“Jeez. Liven up, people.” She speaks again, pushing herself off the throne, and no one responds again, both because you’ve all been taught that and because footsteps sound from the hall. You suck in a breath and hold it as the heavy footfalls followed shortly by the clink of metal grow closer. Eyes locked on your hands clasped in front of you, shoulders bowed, you shut your eyes the moment his shadow passes by your feet. You hear him sit down, then after a few seconds of silence, he speaks.

“You are all free to leave. None of you are tied to this place any longer.” Your eyes snap open when your brain processes the words, and you look up dumbfounded at the man on the throne. You’re met with the same green, red, and yellow armored man you had seen years ago, with Jabba, when you were a young girl. He’s as intimidating as you remember, the breadth of his armor and dark robes making him look imposing, even though he’s slumped almost lazily on the throne. But how could you forget that cold, lifeless black T-visored face, expressionless but radiating danger?

Boba Fett, in the flesh, and alive. The woman is still up on the dais, but she lurks in the shadows, like a watchful, trusted sentinel.

A murmur resounds throughout the crowd of slaves and servants, some sharing cautious glances, while two brave souls inch towards the exit. They flinch (and you do too, even though you haven’t moved at all) when Boba Fett’s head swivels to them, his gaze piercing despite being hidden beneath black glass. One of his hands raise to gesture half-heartedly to the door.

“Go on. Leave.” He commands, ushering the two Weequay servants with two flicks of his wrist, and the servants scram, bolting up the stairs and out. Boba Fett makes no move to go after them, doesn’t send his companion to chase them down, doesn’t drag them back kicking and screaming just to say it was all a cruel joke. No, there is no assertion of oppressive authority, no consequence, and it astounds you.

“Thank you.” Koro, another Gamorrean guard who you knew was serving a life sentence for stealing from Jabba, blurts from the crowd. He bows, tentatively, and also sprints from the room, presumably to the family he told you he had off world. You watch in awe as more and more slaves, some you’ve known for years, are allowed to run from the Palace, to leave.

It’s only when the crowd has dwindled to a mere handful does he speak again.

“The rest of you.” He starts, and you turn your eyes away again (force of habit), “I assume you have no home to return to, no funds to travel from this place.”

Fett doesn’t ask, he states, and somehow you think it’s because he just knows. A hushed murmur of assent answers him, and you glance around to count the four people you’re standing with. You recognize Inas and Yara, two Lethan Twi’lek dancers who’ve been here as long as you, Gongul, the Ugnaught Palace chef, and Panhssj, a Trandoshan former bounty hunter who lost zis freedom with a bad hand in Sabacc.

“The proposition I have for you all is simple: I will offer you payment for your services,” Boba Fett starts again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, the metal of his armor clinking together, “But there will be no blood debts nor life sentences. The services you would provide would be voluntary, and at any point you will have the right to leave.”

It piques your interest, but truly you have no idea what to think. You’ve never done any work voluntarily in your entire life, have never been given credits for the chores you do around the Palace. Briefly, you meet Inas’ eyes and she looks just as unsure as you.

“I don’t...” She starts, but her voice falters when Fett looks her way, and immediately the crimson Twi’lek falls silent, subdued, fearful. You flinch internally, praying to the Maker that Boba Fett is kind to her, that he doesn’t dish out too harsh a consequence for speaking out of turn. The need to fiddle with the ends of your apron, a nervous coping mechanism, makes you gather handfuls of the fabric in your hands.

“Speak. You have the right to do so.” The tone of Fett’s voice shifts so drastically to one of a menacing figure to something that could be described as gentle. Still firm and gruff, of course, but the way he levels with Inas makes your pounding heart calm in your chest. 

“I don’t want to dance anymore.” Inas says, barely above a whisper, but it’s so quiet that her words reverberate throughout the room.

“Then you won't.” Boba Fett replies simply, with a slight shrug, and for the first time in a long time, a smile splits across your face. Inas perks up, eyes bright, and she and Yara hug, chittering happily in relief to one another in their mother tongue of Ryl. They turn to you and Gongul, and Inas takes the gruff Ugnaught in her arms as Yara pulls you into hers.

“We don’t have to dance!” Yara weeps against your dress, and you hug her tight, knowing how the leers and unwanted touches destroyed her and Inas time and time again. You think of all the nights they cried silently, wishing that their lives were different, and you are stricken with the joy at how easily Boba Fett has done just that.

He’s given all of you a choice, and the liberty to do with it as you please. You’ve never had anyone do something so kind to you and your colleagues in your entire life. Yet here Fett is, giving you all the world at your disposal.

Yara parts from you to join back with her sister, and the smiles don’t fall from any of your faces, not even Gongul, who bears a tiny grin. It’s the happiest you’ve seen all of them, and you, and your heart soars at their shared expressions of joy. It’s all so much, just like that.

Boba Fett is different, you determine, he is kind.

Hesitantly, you step forward, and both occupants of the dais turn their attention to you. The sudden weight of both stares makes you falter in your step, this is so unlike you, but they’ve shown enough for you to know that you won't face any retaliation. Fingers wringing your apron, you catch sight of Fett’s dark visor before quickly averting your gaze.

“Thank you.” You tell him softly, dipping your chin in a polite nod. He doesn’t move a muscle at first, and you squirm slightly under his heavy stare, but then Fett nods in return. Only a single dip of his head, but it still makes you feel important, like you’re somebody.

“Of course, mesh’la.” His low, gravelly baritone sends a shiver down your spine, his voice both warm yet easily you can see how it can promise danger. Fett’s gaze lingers on you for a few moments longer, until he turns to the room at large.

“Go about whatever business you wish. Tomorrow, Fennec and I,” He gestures to the dark-clothed woman behind him, “Will have a preliminary plan for the future to discuss with you all.”

Boba Fett rises abruptly, his forest green armor clanking against the stone throne, suddenly looking even more foreboding standing. Strangely, he doesn’t scare you in the slightest, instead, Boba Fett fills you with a fluttery feeling deep in your belly. That, combined with the stare he let rest on you, begins to simmer something in your bones.

“Yesss, Massster.” Panhssj mutters, that sarcastic edge to zis tone more noticeable than it probably should be, considering zis predicament. Boba Fett’s head swivels to zim next, and Panhssj shrinks back upon falling under its weight.

“I am not your Master. Refer to me as Fett or Sir.” Boba says, something clipped about the way he says the word “Master”, like it’s a distasteful food he’s eaten. That makes a mild sense of surprise rise inside you once again— a new King on the throne of the Palace, one who doesn’t want the acquired honorific? That’s rare and humbling all the same.

Boba Fett and Fennec Shand exit the room not long after, citing the immense amount of changes they intend to make to the Palace and how its run. After they leave you with that, Gongul scoffs.

“This simply will not end well.” The elder Ugnaught shakes his head, his wispy mustache shaking, “I have spoken.”

He and Panhssj leave the room, leaving Inas, Yara, and you in the uncharacteristically empty throne room. As your Twi’lek companions excitedly talk amongst themselves, you can’t help but ponder how much evil the Palace has held, and most likely, will continue to hold. Doubt plants itself firm in your chest, especially when you glance over at the trap door, that terrible entrance to the now defunct Rancor Pit.

A shiver runs up your spine, and you exit the room to your quarters.

~

The next day, you wake again with the sunlight that leaks in from your tiny window, and briefly you expect Varduhi to jump on your bed, all smiles and teases.

But she doesn’t, and your heart breaks.

Getting up in the morning is an affair in itself, but you do it fast enough that when you’re out of your room, walking to the kitchens, there’s not a soul in sight. Of course, that’s because the suns have only just arisen, and because your... employer allowed a good 90% of the Palace’s occupants to leave just yesterday. It makes everything feel emptier, knowing that the true bustle won’t occur today, and it makes you simultaneously calmer and lonelier all at once.

“Good morning.” Gongul grunts at you when you enter the kitchen, and you dip your head in response. He offers you the mug of caf next to his, and you take it with a small smile and a thanks, sipping at the thick, hot liquid.

“Did you sleep well, Gongul?” You ask, thanking him again when he slides you a pastry as well. He grunts in response, hobbling with his caf to where he usually works in the morning at the butcher’s table. In turn, you settle yourself on the stool at the counter to enjoy a quiet breakfast.

“I trust him.” Gongul’s voice abruptly sounds minutes later when you’ve nearly finished your food, and you look at him, mildly surprised. Gongul is many things, but quick to trust isn’t one of them, he often keeps his heart of gold under lock and key— He told you once it was how he survives. 

More so, you’re shocked due to the complete tonal shift from the day before, when he was quite unhappy with Fett’s rule. You go to say something about that to him, but the Ugnaught gives you a look that clearly says “Don’t question me” and you wisely settle on nodding instead.

Gongul isn’t trusting, nor is he dense— And it’s also early, and you know he isn’t a morning person either.

Your brain goes through several different words you could describe Fett with; like scary, intimidating, kind, handsome— Wait. Hoping Gongul doesn’t notice the slight color that’s arisen in your cheeks, you decide to say, “Mr. Fett is certainly different.”

Gongul grunts in response again, taking up his caf in one hand and a cleaver in the other. Then, which surprises you the most, Gongul says, “Be careful. I see the way he looks at you.”

The burn on your cheeks spreads like a wildfire all over you. All your thoughts fizzle out in your head and you gape like a fish. Gongul harrumphs, and downs his caf.

“I have spoken.”

And, Maker, did he.

~

Another week passes, and in that time Boba Fett and Fennec have a tentative grasp on the Palace, setting you and the others to work with schedules, breaks, and most importantly, pay. You actually earn for all the chores you do around the Palace, and the sight of all the credits Fennec gave you for your first pay day nearly made your eyes pop out of your head.

“Stars!— That’s so much. Th-Thank you!” You had exclaimed, holding a whole pouch full of hefty credits. You remember that Fennec had looked at you strangely, a mixture of amusement and confusion with something a little more melancholic thrown in, before she added, “That’s only half of what we owe you.”

Of what we owe you.

Those words rang in your head the entire day and then some.

Now, you happily work easy midday shifts, though you still always get up early to eat breakfast with Gongul. Mostly, you do the same as you’ve always done— general housekeeping and cleaning— but now Inas also helps which takes off a lot of the workload.

What’s more, Boba and presumably Fennec have a taste for better foods for everyone in the Palace, and now you’re currently carting off a large basket of exotic fruits to the kitchens where Gongul promised to make something delicious with them (that you could have too). 

Humming to yourself, you zip around the corner, noticing too late that the “wall” seemed to extend out further than normal, and immediately slam full-force into a broad body covered head to toe in beskar.

A shriek passes your lips as you all but go flying to the floor, the basket in your hands landing with a thump like you.

“Osik!” That familiar, deep baritone hisses out a curse in a language you can’t place, both because you’ve never heard that tongue before, and because you’re a bit dazed, still sprawled on the sandstone floor. You look up, and just the most immense, powerful embarrassment fills you to the bone.

Kriff.

You just plowed into your employer. Into Boba Fett. Full force. And now here you are, on the floor, the basket of fruits you had been holding currently rolling away from you in the aftershock, sending all its contents everywhere. Somehow, it feels like the color both rises in your cheeks and falls, leaving you hot in the face and ashen. Kriff, kriff, fuck!

“I’m so sorry!”

“Are you okay?”

Fett speaks at the same time you do, and you suck in a breath to brace yourself for the reprimanding you just know you’re about to receive. Instead, Fett only chuckles low in his throat, the visor of his helmet tilted down at you, and extends a hand.

“Easy,” He says, a single word, but the swirl of emotion it sets off inside you makes you dizzy all over again, “Here.”

You look at his hand for a few seconds, cheeks positively burning and trying not to dwell on that voice of his, before you take it, hesitantly. The moment your hand is in his, Boba all but yanks you to your feet in one tug. The speed disorients you, and you lose balance, stumbling on your feet. For the second time, you find yourself against the hard breadth of his beskar chest and you almost choke when one of his hands grips your elbow, steadying you.

“Hello, sweet girl.” He purrs like a satisfied lion, his other hand finding your other elbow and essentially holding you to him. His armor is cool beneath your palms, and the thought of how flustered you must look crosses your mind, but then you become painfully aware of the situation and the shame sets in all over again. Pushing yourself away from him, you glance at all the fruits on the floor and frown, making a noise in your throat.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, and then I ran into you, and now everything’s on the floor! Oh, Mr. Fett, I’m so—” The rambling escaping your lips gets cut off when Boba places a finger over your lips and hushes you. Staring at him, eyes blown wide, your heart all but flutters at the contact of his gloved finger on your lips.

“Enough. I don’t require your apology.” He says, and when he pulls his hand away from you, the loss of it is like a band-aid ripped from skin. To your pleasant surprise, Boba bends with a grunt and picks up the fruits nearest his feet. When he holds them out to you, the action springs you into motion, and you rush for the basket.

“Moving too fast for your surroundings, hm?” Boba asks as he slowly places the two fruits inside, keeping his gaze steadily on yours as he does. The teasing lilt in his voice is palpable, even through the crackle caused by his helmet, and his stare, however hidden, is so locked on to you, you feel that he’ll be able to see every reaction you have to him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nibble it nervously, only twice before the subtle tilt of Boba’s helmet stops you.

“Um... Yeah, I tend to work pretty fast.” Your answer comes out far more mousier and timid than you expected, but how can you speak when you're so overwhelmed by the armored man in front of you. Boba tilts his head to the side, almost curious but intrigued, and a low chuckle reverberates from his chest, staticky from his vocacorder.

“Such a meek little thing... I like that.” Boba’s comment sucks the breath from your lungs, as do the two fingers he hooks under your chin to lift your face to his. He’s so close you can make out your reflection in the black glass of the T visor, the face of a blushing woman juxtaposed by an intimidating, domineering man. The cliché of the situation isn’t lost on you, but you can’t help but enjoy it.

“Thank you.” You have no idea what else to say when your heart is pounding and butterflies are fluttering in your tummy. To stave off doing or saying anything else, you move to pick up more of the fruit. Boba’s stare follows you, sears into your skin as you bend over and pluck two jogan fruits from the ground. It makes your face positively burn.

“I have been watching you for a while now.” Boba says, obviously not referring to how he’s clearly taking glances at your ass now, and the comment makes you perk up. Adjusting the basket on your hip, you turn your attention to him, nervously fiddling with the wicker rim.

“Um... yeah? Have I not been up to par, sir?” You ask meekly, hoping that that isn’t the sole reason why Fett is conversing with you now. Thankfully, his reply is more than reassuring of that.

“Of course not. I have seen nothing but good work from you.” Boba steps closer, and you catch the scent of his cologne this time— a quick whiff of something sharp, earthy, like sea salt and pine. His head tilts and he places another fruit into the basket and says, “In fact, I’d like to see more of you.”

Time just stops. All of the thoughts running through your head go careening to a halt, and the breath is squeezed from your lungs from the shock of it. Boba takes in your wide-eyed state with another low, staticky chuckle, wrapping his gloved fingers around your elbow and reeling you in.

“I will be truthful, cyar’ika, you have caught my eye.” He continues and inwardly you marvel at how your trembling knees haven’t given out on you yet. Your grip on the basket tightens, and where Fett has his fingers firm on your elbow is where your skin burns for him. You can’t help but gape, moon-eyed and struggling to gather your thoughts.

“Stars! You want to see me?” You blurt out before you can rebound yourself enough to say something a bit more concise. Boba hums in affirmation, his hand leaving your arm and the emptiness almost makes a whine rise to your throat. You don’t want him to stop touching you, and judging by the dangerous tilt of his head, that black visor flashing, he notices.

“Will you meet me in my quarters tonight?” Boba asks and it takes everything in you to remind yourself that this is actually happening, and not some vivid dream. For the first time, you offer him a small, albeit nervous, smile. You nod and reply with a voice that nearly falters, “Yes.”

“Good. We will have dinner.” Boba announces, suddenly as untouchable as the King he is, as he straightens and parts from you. He rests his stare on you for a few seconds longer before he turns on his heel, walking down the hall, the beskar spurs on his boots clinking. His distancing broadness makes you want to reach out and reel him back in, even if that thought makes your belly flutter with nerves. The dim lamp light of the hallway hues his forest green beskar to something like bronze, earthy like his firm touch and piney scent. It feels like all the blood in your faces rushes down at the bolt of desire that Boba Fett strikes within you.

“I’ll see you then.” Your hasty, almost desperate, call makes Boba pause, and he turns his head to the side, not looking over his shoulder, but acknowledging you. He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to— everything that he could say already is thick in the air. All he gives you is another low, dangerous chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine, and a dip of his head.

Then, like a phantom in the night, he turns the corner at the end of the hall and is gone.

You take a few minutes to focus on breathing and stop your racing heart before you even think about picking up the rest of the fruits. After everything’s back in the basket, and you’re at the kitchen having mindlessly walked there, the blush on your cheeks hasn’t dulled enough to escape Gongul’s notice. Thankfully, the Ugnaught doesn’t say anything, and simply shakes his head, but you’re not as lucky when Panhssj enters the room.

Damn that Trandoshan.

~

By the time your shift has ended, virtually everyone you work with knows your situation. Fortunately, they don’t subject you to much teasing (most comes courtesy of Panhssj) and instead they oddly focus on keeping you safe, of all things. When you had left the kitchen, Gongul had grabbed you by your arm, tight, a look in your eyes you’ve never seen before.

“If he harms you in any way, I will stop at nothing to end him.” Gongul had said with such conviction you believed he really could. Then, as if he remembered his kind temperament and inkling trust in Fett, he harrumphed and said, “I have spoken.”

Panhssj, despite all zis teasing and crude language, offered you much the same sentiment, albeit with more expletives and direct threats about poisoning Boba with zis blood, should your employer wrong you.

Now, as Yara brushes your hair and Inas files your nails, they give you much of the sentiment in their pep talk that’s both hyping you up for the night, and making you unbelievably nervous. Yara reaches a particularly stubborn tangle in your hair and yanks, but the slight jerk and sting don’t even phase you. Inas catches the faraway look in your eye and stops tending to your nails.

“Numa, are you okay?” She asks firmly, cupping your cheek with a slender crimson hand. You avert your gaze to avoid looking at her worried cornflower blue eyes and dismiss most of her concern with a slight shake of your head. It’s not that you aren’t touched by her consideration for your wellbeing, it’s only that most of it is not necessary. You give her a shaky smile.

“I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking.” You start, fumbling with the ratty end of your apron. Yara runs her fingers through your hair and the motion comforts you, “I’m just nervous, is all.”

Inas purses her lips in a sympathetic smile and puts her other hand on your cheek and squishes your face. It makes you giggle and the sisters laugh with you. Inas sigh, her full lips pulling into a more excited, sly grin.

“You’ll have fun.” She starts patting both of your cheeks at once. Then, she pulls away, and grabs the nail file again and beckons for your hand as she adds, “You’ll have to tell us how big his dick is.”

You sputter, a furious blush rising to your cheeks as Yara and Inas laugh, both of their eyes glinting mischievously. Yara stands up and retrieves a soft, aged dress the color of toffee from her dresser, shaking it to unfurl its linen skirts. She brings it over to you and places it in your arms.

“Wear this. It’ll suit you.” She smiles, baring her pointed canines as you trace the hem of it’s deep cut collar. It’s a simple thing, but it speaks volumes with it’s unabashedness, a type of mellow that does reflect your nature. You stand up from the cushion on the ground to give Yara a hug, and her lekku quiver with excitement and wrap around your neck.

“Thank you.” You say to both of them, beckoning for Inas to join on the hug, which she jumps up and promptly does. The Twi’leks nuzzle you all over, the three of you giggling with a shared anticipatory excitement about the evening, and presumably (hopefully) night, you’re about to have with the King of the Palace, Boba Fett himself.

~

By the time you’ve reached the door to Boba Fett’s quarters, that same excitement, though still tingling throughout your body, has morphed considerably to near overwhelming apprehension and nervousness. Your heart is doing flips inside you, belly so full of butterflies you have to release some of the anxiousness on the skirt of your dress, crumpling the fabric in your fists. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in as you raise a fist to knock on the imposing door.

The silence that follows your three delicate knocks almost has you wondering if you knocked too gently, in spite of the echoing thuds that had sounded. Biting your bottom lip, you go to knock again when Boba’s rich voice stops you.

“Come in.” The gravelly invitation is muffled by the thick door, but Maker does it feel as though you're signing a pact when you do as he says, and push open the door. Boba is standing by the sandstone wall at the far side of the room, besides a set table, helmetless. He places a wine glass on the table, and when he lifts his head, you suck in a breath.

Boba Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, has the softest brown eyes you’ve seen. They meet yours and something flashes in them, a smirk curling his plush lips and scrunching the skin at the corners of his eyes. He’s older, a good chunk older than you, but his brown skin and wizened features only enhance how attractive you find him.

“Welcome, sweet girl. Come, sit.” His beckon is akin to the purr of a satisfied Loth cat, and he gestures to a seat at the table where a glass of wine and a plate is waiting for you. It takes a moment for you to gather your courage to even breathe, and when you finally walk forward you feel as though your legs may give out from under you. Boba also steps forward, rounding the table to greet you a few paces away from it.

“Hi.” You say shyly, blushing as Boba lifts a hand to perform that same hooked finger gesture beneath your chin, this time uninhibited by his gloves. His grin, though small and hard, is dazzling, and it’s up close you notice the scars on his face, ones that reach from the back of his scalp. He tilts your chin up, and by the way he leans forward your heart races at the expectation of a kiss, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, Boba drops his hand to grab yours.

“Let us eat.” He says, guiding you to the chair that he’s pulled out for you. Somewhat reeling from losing that potential kiss, you sit almost mechanically, still too smitten with Boba to think straight. The plate of food in front of you, a selection of easy items that look delectable, goes completely unnoticed by you. Boba sits in the chair adjacent to you with a soft grunt, and grabs the bottle of very expensive looking wine. He gestures at you and purrs, “Wine, sweet girl?”

You nod dumbly, blushing when you go to hand him your glass the same time he does, your fingers brushing against his gloveless hand. His stare only breaks from yours to pour the deep red liquid into your glass, and he finishes, tapping the neck of the wine bottle against the rim of your glass with a soft clink. He pours his, and takes the metal cup in his hand, holding it lazily— sitting in his chair with much the same unassuming, lackadaisical demeanor as he does his throne.

“So,” He carries the syllable like a King, “Has your day gone well?”

Boba sips his drink, honey eyes not once breaking from yours. It’s at this moment you snap back to reality, realizing both that your hands are clenched tight in your lap and that you haven’t even touched your drink. You pick it up with an almost unnoticeable shake to your hand, and take a small sip. Thankfully, it’s strength is tolerable, and the taste is actually quite sweet.

“I had a nice day, yes. Thank you.” You reply softly, more to the contents of your cup than the man sitting across from you. Boba hums and picks up his fork, stabbing through a piece of orange-colored fruit much more methodically than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours. It shouldn’t be as tantalizing as it is, so mouth watering, but you watch him with a hunger not satiated by food. Of course, Boba notices and so he guides the fruit to your lips.

“May I, mesh’la?” He asks, voice barely above a low murmur as the melon touches your bottom lip and it drops automatically. Cheeks pink and doe-eyed, you nod and open your mouth further to allow for Boba to slide the fruit in. He groans when your lips close around the melon and pulls the fork from your lips in one fluid motion, no resistance.

“It’s sweet.” You murmur after you’ve chewed and swallowed down the orange flesh, to which Boba smoothly replies, “Not as sweet as you.”

It bubbles nervousness to the surface again, everything done for you thus far— wine, fruit, feeding you— an introduction to the promise that Boba Fett is seemingly more than willing to uphold. You take another sip of the wine to try and alleviate the nerves, but you’re barely able to swallow it. Setting your cup down, Boba takes in your apprehension and places his hand on yours before it can leave the table.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asks, rubbing circles on your knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb. You marvel at the strength of his hand, his assured and practiced touch, the warmth and breadth of his fingers. Licking your suddenly very dry lips, you look back up at him and nod, answering honestly.

“Yes.” It’s meek and breathy, but it’s also true, and you can’t help the twinge of guilt that occurs when Boba’s eyes go downcast. He goes to pull his hand from yours, perhaps to pull his advancements, but you place your other one atop it. His touch is too warm to simply let go.

“It’s not necessarily you, sir.” You explain gently, and you go to continue but Boba raises his hand to stop you.

“To you I am Boba. No need for formalities.” He says firmly, and the leveling of the ground between you makes a smile light up your face. Then, at the sight of that smile, he adds, “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“You haven’t,” You shake your head, gasping lightly when Boba’s free hand goes to cup your cheek, “With you I feel…”

Your eyes lock with Boba’s, the stare much more intense than any before it— the connection more meaningful, more poignant. Everything he’s shown you has been nothing but kindness, a type of assurance to all his actions that have been making you wanting more, wanting Boba closer. It both astounds you that you’re so willing to open yourself to a man that you hardly know, but what’s more surprising is how willing Boba is to give himself to you.

As if on cue, he leans forward in his seat, bringing you closer to him by lighting pulling the hand he has wrapped around yours. His face grows so close to yours you notice more tiny scars, particular wrinkles you hadn’t noticed when he was at a distance. Shifting in your seat to better see him, his thumb runs over your lips.

“Do you trust me?” And if the importance of the question wasn’t enough, Boba follows it by sealing it with your name. Not one of the many nicknames he uses for you, not the names given to you by your former masters when you were enslaved, but the name given to you at birth. You nod slightly, swallowing because it feels like your throat’s gone as dry as the deserts.

“Yes.” You squeak, and then his lips are on yours and you’re gone. You let out a muffled, shocked cry, but your eyes flutter shut so quickly that the shock wanes entirely. He all but pulls you from your chair onto his lap, the wine and meal left forgotten on the table. Boba’s lips encase yours, molding against you with a commanding fervor, engulfing you. You sigh happily into his mouth, lips parting to let in his prodding tongue as your arms subconsciously wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer. He claims you instantly, his domineering tongue overpowering yours in seconds.

You’ve kissed before, once with Varduhi (long story) and a couple shy, nervous ones with fumbling smuggler boys who fancied you, but they were never like this. This kiss isn’t anything like the ones before it, the ones that were quick, brief, and secretive. No, this kiss is unadulterated, uncontained— This is a kiss of a man.

You whimper, pressing against him, desperate for more. Boba hums in amusement, his arm around your waist pulling you flush against him. He pulls back to break the kiss, but you greedily nip at his bottom lip, attempting to guide him back to you. It doesn’t work, and Boba straightens up, looking down at you with a smirk on his face. 

“A needy little thing aren’t you, sweet girl?” He rumbles and you look away, flustered. He chuckles and pulls you in for another kiss, one hand holding your chin so that there’s no way you can control the pace or turn your head from him. All over again, it makes fireworks light up inside you, and a whine nearly escapes your lips when he pulls away again. This time, he slides you off his lap and sets you down on shaky legs, getting up from his chair himself with one arm locked around your waist.

Boba looms over you, the broadness of him accentuated by his armor and ink black tunic. The dim lights outline him, shadowing his face all but his eyes that seem to burn.

“On the bed, cyar’ika.” Boba commands, voice so low it sends a shiver down your spine. You hesitantly pull away from him, walking towards the bed on wobbling legs. Boba’s stare burns into the back of your neck and the hair raises with excitement. He’s kissed you and held you, but you feel as though he’s only just seeing you. Glancing over your shoulder, Boba’s pulling his beskar from his body, shedding his armor and leaving himself vulnerable. It makes your stomach flutter, seeing him without the protection, in only his black robes and kama.

When you reach the end of his bed, you hesitate at the precipice of the dark, silken sheets, like the depths of an ocean threatening to swallow you whole. And I’ll let it, you decide as you sit on the bed, excitement tingling you to the bone when the cushion, soft and plush, sinks below you. It’s a better bed than yours, that’s for sure, so as you pull your legs up onto it after slipping off your shoes, you fall back against the sheets.

Sighing happily, you almost forget the fluttering in your belly, your nerves going wild, the wet ache accumulating between your legs... Almost. The sound of Boba’s vambraces clattering to the floor catches your attention, and you look up to see him striding towards the bed, towards you. His eyes, that pretty, honeyed hazel, are darkened, pupils wide and eclipsing his irises.

“For some time I’ve desired you. Thought of fucking you senseless since the day I saw you, mesh’la.” Boba says, and you feel your blush darken, driven wild by the looming and imposing, but so handsome and kind, man before you. You scoot back on the bed as Boba slowly joins you on it, the mattress dipping under his weight. You tremble when your back hits the pillows at the headboard, and when Boba settles himself above you with a soft groan.

“Cyar’ika, you look divine.” He says, and you briefly wonder how he can say that considering you’re wearing a rather plain tan dress and probably looking a mess, but the way Boba slides one thigh between your legs and traps you under him wipes the thought from your mind. One of his hands anchors itself next to your head, the other goes and strokes your cheek. Like before, your arms seemingly on autopilot go to rest around his shoulders, holding him.

“Boba, I—” You start, uneasy, and Boba immediately pulls back slightly, giving you space. Nipping at your bottom lip, you glance to the side and continue in a whisper, “I’ve never done this before.”

Boba’s completely silent, and for a moment you think you’ve gone and ruined everything, frowning at the tenseness of his hand next to your head. The stretch of quiet almost breaks when you go to apologize, but no words come out when Boba’s hand is on your cheek again, guiding your gaze to his.

“You’re a virgin?” He asks firmly, eyes hard, but the hand on your cheek is tender, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You smile slightly and nod when you realize he isn’t angry, not upset with you, and still desiring you. Something in Boba’s eyes lights up at the confirmation, and a lilted smirk splits across his face. He leans in until his nose brushes against yours, lips hovering far away enough that you aren’t able to kiss him.

“Well then...” He murmurs, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip and igniting every nerve in your body, making you tremble, “Will you have me, mesh’la?”

Boba’s lips smash against yours so fast it drowns the squeak of surprise that escapes you. The gentle moans that follow are swallowed by the indulgently greedy kiss, and you find yourself lost in his mouth, overwhelmed and subdued by the passion of the slick muscle of his tongue, the taste of him. Before you’re too far gone in the clouds, Boba pulls away and your lips make a wet pop! sound.

“Will you let me give you everything I have?” He hisses, his hand grabbing your chin almost roughly to all but force you to look at him. You nod best you can, desperate for more kissing, and everything else he’s promising. You’ve never wanted anything else so badly in your life.

“Yes.” You squeak and your eyes roll back when Boba’s lips are sucking at yours again, ensnaring you with his teeth he grazes against your bottom lip. This kiss makes the temperature of the room shift, and you suddenly feel so hot and heavy that it makes you feel faint. Boba shifts, and presses you into the bed, the firm breadth of his body boxing you in. He hums in contentment when you whimper, your arms tightening their grip and your hands grabbing his clothes.

“Boba!” You whimper when he presses closer, rolling your skirt up to your waist, and the swelled erection in his pants presses against your inner thigh. You’ve never felt the hardness of a man like this before, and it drives you as wild as it makes your stomach fill with nerves. Gasps leave your lips as Boba kisses your neck, sucking periodically as his hand travels down your waist, hip, and then to your thigh. Instinctively, you tense, and Boba stops his ministrations.

“Am I going too fast? Do you need me to slow down, ad’ika?” He asks, lips leaving tender kisses on the soft skin of your neck. Heart warmed by his consideration, you take a moment to shut your eyes and breathe. Focusing on how nice it’s all been thus far, how Boba has treated you so well, when you open your eyes, your heart’s stopped racing so bad and the nervousness is manageable.

“No, I’m okay.” You reply and giggle softly when Boba pecks your lips, then your cheek. His head dips again and he sighs against your neck, the hand on your thigh going below, and you squeal when Boba grabs your ass from under your dress, fingers kneading the plush flesh. He meets your eyes, a lustful yet determined and aware look on his face.

“I want you to be nothing but comfortable. If I’m ever too much, say ‘rancor’, and I will stop.” Boba tells you, his hand rubbing circles on the low of your back. The tenderness of his calloused, large hand makes you sigh, and you just want to melt. 

“Okay.” You nod, nearly giggling hysterically when Boba guides one of your legs up to his hip where he beckons your heel to rest on the low of his back. It causes the fabric bunched at your waist to roll up further, revealing all of your bare thighs and thin panties to Boba. You’ve never felt more exposed.

This is happening, the excitement bubbles inside you to the point of making you tremble. You’re hyper-aware now, all of your senses on high alert and flooded with the man that is Boba Fett.

“What is your safeword, cyar’ika?” He rumbles between wet kisses on your neck, between the steady rock of his hips between your legs. Each impact has you gasping, the pleasure that his still clothed cock has against your still clothed pussy unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s a more potent desire that has you aching for the main event: Boba nestled inside you, snug, tight, stretched.

“Mm... rancor.” You breathe before you lose yourself to your lust, any other words that were possibly on your tongue fizzling out like a dying star when Boba ruts against you, sudden and hard. It makes you squeal, that simple motion making a noticeable gush of slick dampen your inner thighs and panties. It’s seemingly an action that Boba found himself indulging in, as he pulls back with a growl and leaves you throbbing.

“You are too perfect, such a good girl.” The endearment makes you smile as bright as the stars, more so when Boba rasps, “My good girl.”

His lips meet yours again, this time tender and allowing you to suckle his bottom lip until he severs the connection. Honey brown eyes, heavy-lidded and lustful, meet yours and you’re lost in the dominance they hold. Truly, you’re beneath a King in his bed. Boba notices the star-struck look on your face and chuckles.

“Have you ever touched yourself, cyar’ika?” Boba murmurs huskily against the soft curve of your cheek, breath hot against your skin. Your entire body seems to flush, the question flooding your system with anticipation and embarrassment like a dam breaking. Bashfully, you dip your chin and avert your gaze, the answer on your tongue unreasonably mortifying.

Your entire life, you shared close quarters with people, sometimes many, sometimes few. There just hadn’t been the space nor privacy to do anything regarding sexual activity, personal or otherwise. Of course, others who were less inhibited than you did, but you were always too scared. The inexperience you feel is almost painful, and there’s that doubt inching to the surface again. Maybe I shouldn’t do this...

Evidently however, and what lifts your spirit from sinking to a very dark place, Boba seems to find this more than satisfactory. The hand he has on the flesh of your thigh tenses, his hips doing an almost involuntary jerk as he hisses a foreign curse. A look that can only be described as utterly ravaged settles on Boba’s face, something between desperate and horny.

“Sweet girl,” Boba rasps, supremely amused and something strained in there as well, “Is that a no?”

You nod slightly, and his hand moves from your chin, calloused fingers grazing your jaw, until his palm rests over your throat. Boba doesn’t put any pressure, but his hand is firm. You gasp when his thumb and pointer give your trachea a tentative, controlled squeeze and it compels you to bring your gaze back to his. Boba’s eyes lock with yours, his stare hard and appraising. Shockingly, you don’t find yourself bothered by the hand on your neck, not when it’s Boba, and all it does is send a delectable shiver straight to your core.

“Mesh’la. Use your words.” Boba isn’t asking, he’s commanding, and the gruff confidence in his voice makes your thighs clench together. You swallow, teeth pinching the inside of your cheek as you fumble for the words.

“Um... I— No, I haven’t.” Your reply pitches to a higher octave by the end of your sentence, and it feels like your face is burning with how embarrassed you feel. Boba notices and does away your self-inflicted shame by kissing your brow. When he meets your eyes again, there’s a soft look on his face, one that tells you words everyone should hear.

“There is no shame here, mesh’la. Allow me to show you.” His lips brush against your earlobe, then dip to your neck, then collar bone. He kisses at your burning skin, making goosebumps rise on your arms with each tender, important blessing of his lips. Boba isn’t lying, not as you sigh and moan beneath him, there truly is nothing to be embarrassed by.

What a wonderful teacher you’ve been given.

“Please, Boba.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you hold your breath when Boba’s hand smoothes over the top of your thigh, inching closer to your aching core. His fingertips reach where you have wet slick between your legs, and he smears it across your skin with a chuckle and a knowing look. Before you can respond in any sort of way, Boba cups your entire pussy with that hand so fast you jolt with a shriek. His fingers press against your folds, thick and warm, and his thumb hovers above your clit. Even through the fabric of your underwear, you feel every nerve ending get set ablaze.

“This,” Boba emphasizes by squeezing your mons Venus and pussy, making you moan, “Is the wet, sacred cunt I’ll be fucking tonight.”

Vulgarity aside, the possessiveness floors you and arouses you immensely, making the tense entrance of you flutter with need. You feel more of your juices seep out of your needy hole, needy for Boba, and you’re sure he feels it too. Boba does, and responds by rubbing his fingers on the wet blotch above your flowery lips, pressing harder to tease your entrance.

“Boba!~” His name passes your lips in a broken plea, and despite your arms being so tightly wound around the thick muscle of his neck, one of your hands shoots to grab his wrist. It’s all so overwhelming, you want to push the man away, and pull him in as far as he can go. You want those fingers to leave you, and you want them to make you cum again and again. Tears prick your eyes, and you’re not sure if it’s out of neediness and pleasure, or remnants of fear.

Boba rolls his fingers again, this time rolling the sensitive bud of your clit with his thumb, and the skyrocketing pleasure breaks you.

“Rancor!” The second the safeword leaves your lips is the second Boba’s hand yanks away from you as if he’s been burned. You squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking him in the eye, at any look of disappointment or annoyance you think he may have. You’ve ruined the moment— the night— you just know it.

“I’m sorry!” You blubber, tears thick in your voice, “I don’t— There’s something wrong with me!”

A weeping shudder shakes you, makes you tremble beneath the man who’s silent above you. You hear him shift, the weight of him disappearing somewhat, and another round of gasping sobs consumes you as you think he leaves you until two strong hands roll you onto your side. Instinctively, you curl up on yourself, crying.

“Cyar’ika, breathe.” Boba’s comforting, sincere command comes alongside a firm hand rubbing down the length of your back, then up again. He brushes hair from off your face, tears off your cheeks, and the actions together ground you, pulling you from the dark place you fell into. Sniffling, you’re able to focus on Boba’s mass behind you, assuming he’s laying on his side just as you arm. Your balled up position loosens up, and a shaky sigh leaves you just as Boba places his arm on your waist.

Boba doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even implore you to open your eyes, just lets you gather your breath and holds you. The tenderness, the care, makes your aching heart swell. 

“It was...” You whisper after the long moment of comfortable silence, “A lot. Too much.”

Boba hums, rubbing circles on your back with one hand and circles on your tummy with the other. He tentatively pulls you closer to him, and you let him, not wanting him to feel as though he caused this. You’re still not quite sure what it was, head a bit too frazzled by a lot of contributing factors, but it certainly wasn’t Boba. 

“I’m sor—”

“No.” Boba cuts you off gruffly, his hands halting momentarily. You finally open your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low lights before you hesitantly glance over your shoulder. Boba meets your gaze, his eyes the most expressive you’ve seen them. They say, above all else, “I’m sorry”. The sorrow in them makes you ache for him.

“You are at no fault. I overstepped— Went too far, did too much.” Boba goes to sit up and faster than you thought you could move, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist, the same one you had before. It stops Boba from moving any further, but he still keeps at a distance, like he doesn’t want to hurt you again. 

“It was too much, but it wasn’t truly unwelcome.” You whisper, tugging a little on his arm to beckon him to you again. Boba has settled an ache at your core, a deep throb in your soul that was just so intense it reminded you of the one other person that had ever made you feel this deeply. 

“I’ve only felt this... profoundly once before— With my dearest friend Varduhi. And now I feel it with you.” You explain, your heart soaring when Boba closes the gap between you, encompassing you with his warmth that he left you missing. He reaches up to cup your cheek and you smile, leaning into his rough palm. Boba’s other hand plants its weight on your hip, grounds you back to him. There’s no one else you’d want to be tethered to more.

“So it was your very runi that I touched?” Boba asks in that same low, husky tone he had when he asked you of your trust, the question so important he sealed it with your name. You’re not familiar with the foreign word, but you suppose it’s significance is correct judging by the way Boba leans in further, for a kiss that he doesn’t give— not yet, anyways.

“Yes.” You breathe, lips hovering just above his, doing that same dance Boba is. Perhaps there’s more here, not just some desire that he’s had for you or your painfully obvious attraction to him— but something else entirely. A teaching of not only sexuality and pleasure, but of intimacy and relationship— of learning to heal and love.

You wouldn’t want anyone else to guide you on this, so again, with truly no shame this time, you whisper, “Please, Boba.”

“My good girl.” Boba rumbles and then he’s on top of you, mouth molding to yours as he presses you into the pillows and the sheets. You moan into the deep, passionate kiss, the kindling flame within your core reignited into a blistering fire. Stars and fireworks and neurons alike all burst at the heat of Boba’s mouth, his tongue domineering yours which you accept gratefully.

Boba kisses with renewed fervor, greedily sucking at your lips and every gasp you release, teeth nipping when your tongue gets too presumptuous. When you pull away to breathe and blink back the stars in your vision, you smile, all glowy and hazy-eyed.

“I really like your kisses.” You say quietly, nimble hands gliding the length of his broad shoulders to rest your fingertips at the base of his squared jaw. Boba’s lips curl again into that smirk, the one that is all confidence and you begrudgingly accept that you’ve stroked his ego. He plants his lips to yours again, a deep open-mouth kiss that ends with a pop.

“Mesh’la,” He praises against your cheek as his hand once again slides up the skirt of your dress, and asks an implied question, “May I?”

Boba tugs gently at the fabrics, and you shiver, your hands leaving his shoulders to scramble for the lace tie holding your dress together. Your fingers find the bow and expertly undo the tie, your dress slackening on your body. Boba wastes no time in grabbing a fistful of your skirts and pulling, yanking the fabric off your shoulders. The bodice of your dress falls, baring your breasts to Boba, who stares so hungrily at them it makes you shiver.

“Sweet girl, you are more divine than all the deathless gods.” He rasps, his hand working at peeling your clothes further off your body as he leans in and kisses your sternum. Between the valley of your breasts, Boba sucks a mark into the soft skin, causing you to whimper. Never had you realized such attention would make you tingle with need, and when Boba pulls your dress from around your ankles, discarding it to the floor, the feeling grows tenfold.

Naked save for your panties, Boba leans back to ogle your body, an attention to it that suddenly makes you very self-conscious to how you look. Your hands back on his shoulders, you have half the mind to cover yourself, but before you can voice any apprehension, Boba pulls his black tunic off his torso. 

The bronzed skin of his broad chest and beefy arms are smattered in scars that range from aged silver ones to newer pink ones. The largest of which, reminding you of tendrils, wrap around his torso, curling on his chest and thick belly in raised, lightning-esque lines. Your mouth goes dry, you want to kiss each scar, the slight speckling of his dark chest hair, both his nipples, and most importantly his barrel belly and the faint happy trail you can see.

“You’re gorgeous.” You whimper, almost sobbing when Boba kisses you again and you can feel his skin against yours, rough in some areas but incredibly warm. Feeling his flesh against yours in all its flaws smothers all of your doubts about yours. 

No shame here, you think as you lose yourself in his taste, as his hand goes and cups one of your breasts, thick fingers catching your nipple between them.

“Boba!” You gasp his name when he rolls your tit in his palm, teasing your perk nipple with his fingers. He pinches it and you whine, arching your back into his body, hips brushing against his. Boba grunts when your core meets his half swollen erection, and he grabs your hips with one hand, holding it still. You whimper, wanting to seek out that pleasure from earlier, something promised if you were just allowed to move.

“Enough, little girl.” Boba teases upon watching you squirm under his immovable hold. He pushes your thighs apart with one knee, the hand he has on your breast still kneading its tender flesh. When the hand he has on your hip moves, and you gasp, he asks, “May I touch you, mesh’la?”

His fingertips ghost the plush of your mons Venus, teasing the crease where your inner thigh meets your hip. It’s where, before, the line had been crossed, where an emotional boundary had been tested. But you don’t think of that now, instead you remember the husky words Boba had said, the ones that claimed your … wet, sacred cunt… as his. You shiver at the memory.

“Yes.” You’ve spoken that word so many times tonight that the single syllable rolls off your tongue on an exhale. In an instant, Boba’s fingertips dip underneath the lace of your panties, glide through the coarse, damp hair of your sex, and brush along the wet lips of your cunt. You cry out, legs lifting when Boba eases his broad fingers between your folds, massaging them as he did earlier.

“So kriffing wet, mesh’la.” He groans, one finger stroking up and down the slit of your entrance and making you squeal. A flash of dirty pride crosses his face and he smirks, “And all for me.”

Boba takes initiative and rips your panties clean off your body, throwing the fabric to the floor and the second it’s out of his hand, his fingers are back on your cunt. You moan when Boba palms your flower, toes curling when two of his fingers focus on your quivering entrance. Combined with Boba’s working hand and the flush beneath your skin, the cradle of your hips is hot, steamy and wet like you never thought it could be.

“Yours!” You squeak, your hands trembling on his bare shoulders as Boba so carefully begins to push one finger into you. The stretch stings, brings tears to your eyes, but it's the wetness of your cunt and Boba’s consideration that eases the length of his entire finger into you. It has you almost weeping from pleasure, such a foreign feeling of having someone touch you like this.

“Easy,” Boba coos, that same, single word again— the one that makes your head spin, “I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

You cry out again, louder, when Boba curls his finger, rolls his knuckles against the tight, velvety walls of your cunt, and teases the part of you that makes a coil in your belly appear. He scissors his other fingers between your pussy lips as his thumb, once again, presses down on your clit. This time though, it’s even better, there’s no fabric to inhibit the rolling motion he does on that bundle of nerves. It all makes your hips jerk, you try to rut against his sturdy hand, but the firm hand on your chest moves to still your shaking hips.

“Look at you, cyar’ika, all desperate for this old man.” Boba states it like it's fact not opinion, and you’re in complete agreement. You nod, lips parted as airy moans pass them, and you can barely keep your eyes from rolling back as the coil grows tighter and tighter. Your thighs tense, calves on Boba’s waist stiffening. Desperately, you pull at him, wanting him closer, wanting more—

“Not so fast, mesh’la.” Boba pulls his hand from you and it feels like betrayal. You groan, upset at how close you were, how amazing it all felt until your impending orgasm was ripped from you like a rug from under your feet. Boba only chuckles at the pout on your face, lifting a hand to rub his thumb across your bottom lip. He pushes it into your mouth and you sigh, eyes fluttering as you swirl your tongue around it.

“Good girl,” Boba murmurs offhandedly when he pulls his thumb from your lips, “My good, sweet girl.”

His hand caresses your face then dips back to your breast and gives it a squeeze, making your body jolt. Boba’s eyes are near fully eclipsed by his pupils, blown so wide with so much hunger you feel as though you’re staring down a Loth Wolf as opposed to a man. He growls upon watching your back arch to his touch, and then he abruptly plunges two fingers straight into your cunt.

The intrusion and slight sting of the sudden stretch both have you shrieking, but no pain follows that would make you instinctively push away. Instead, knuckle deep inside your pussy, Boba’s fingers graze your clenching walls, each “Come hither” motion scraping his fingertips against the most sensitive parts of you. You cry out a garbled sound that is something like his name, legs spread wide, hips fighting against the hold Boba has on them, aching for more stimulation.

“Such a needy girl,” Boba tsks, hastening his fingers to give you what you want, and to loosen you for the main event as he mutters darkly, “I want you to cum on my fingers, girl.”

The gravelly command shakes you to your core, as does the third finger that’s slotted into your entrance, stretching you deliciously. Moans are escaping you at a near constant pace, leaving you breathy and slack-jawed, the coil in your belly being pulled tighter and tighter. The wet squelches that accompany Boba’s fast, skilled hand are so obnoxiously loud you think they echo off the room’s walls.

“Cum, now— Give it to me!” Boba growls through his teeth, the muscles of his jaw flexed and taut, and he doubles his pace, fingers pounding the spongy part of you that sings with pleasure each time they hit. You’re actively weeping his name, the two syllables like a prayer on your lips as more and more pressure mounts in your core. It’s as Boba’s thumb once again returns to your clit that the nerve endings ignite and you oblige to his command.

The noise that escapes you is something near animal, a primal squeal that lasts the duration of your orgasm. It strikes hard, tensing every muscle in your body until you’re quivering, each wave rippling an aftershock that clenches your cunt around Boba’s fingers— hard. He curses when a gush of your liquid sex glazes his hand in you, smearing on your inner thighs as he moves his hand to ride out your orgasm.

When the stars in your vision start to fade, all the endorphins leave you tingling with euphoria. 

“Look at that, sweet girl,” Boba praises, lifting his glistening fingers to his face where he admires his, and yours, handiwork, “The ambrosia of your sopping cunt.”

He licks one of his fingers, and as he begins to slot his hips with yours, pushes them into your mouth so that you can lick him clean. Through the tears of pleasure and happiness, you close your lips delicately around his fingers and suck, humming at the tangy and dewy taste of your release. Boba makes a noise of approval as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, and pulls them away from your lips with a wet pop.

“Good girl,” He murmurs and you watch in rising anticipation as Boba finds the waistband of his pants, hooking his fingers beneath the fabric. He pulls down his pants and underwear together, revealing more and more of his skin, then the tuft of dark hair upon his mons pubis, then his cock.

Boba’s cock, swelled to a prominent erection, is the largest dick you’ve ever seen. It bobs when he pulls it fully free from its cloth prison and you watch the movement of its swollen, red head and fat shaft. Boba strokes his length once, hissing as he does, and you swallow at the twitch of the heady vein on its underside. You let out a gasping sigh when Boba rests the bulbous tip against the wet lips of your sex, not moving or attempting to push in, but letting you ogle at its girth.

“Tell me you want my cock, sweet girl.” Boba grips the sides of your thighs and rocks his hips, parting your lips with the shaft of his member and making you squeal at the sensation. The tip rubs against your swollen clit and you moan wantonly, nails biting into Boba’s neck as your grip tightens on him. He rocks his hips again and again, keeping a shallow, steady grind that won’t go any further until you answer him.

“I want—” Boba rocks harder and you choke, “— your cock!”

He grinds a bit harder at that, and you cry out when his cock catches on your soaked entrance, teasing your pussy before Boba simply grinds against the entirety of your flowery cunt again. He’s drawing out the worst and sweetest of tortures, making you squirm and beg beneath him until you crumble into a million pieces. Your head lolls back, eyes fluttering to prevent tears from leaking down your face.

It all feels so good, Boba’s large hands digging into the plush of your thighs, the firmness of his pelvis grinding his hard cock against your core, the softness of the mattress and sheets under you— It’s all so good.

“Please, please, Boba,” Your broken whimpers are accentuated by your hands pushing him back and pulling him forward, “I’m— I’m a good girl.”

He groans at that, capturing your lips in his for a passionate, wet kiss. His balmy mouth consumes yours, the round tip of his nose digging into your cheek with the force of it. Boba, still grinding steadily, pulls back to take you in and a tender look settles on his face. A drip of sweat rolls down his temple when he says, quiet and gentle, “My good girl.”

And then on the next grind Boba is pushing his cock into your wet heat, and the feeling of a man consumes you. You scream, not out of pain or surprise, but of the pure pleasure that accompanies the aching stretch of your pussy adjusting to Boba’s member. His thick girth fills you to the brim, the velvety walls of your sex quivering around him, and as bottoms out, the blunt end of his cock hits your cervix. You feel Boba in your lungs, especially when he draws out, slow and easy, and pushes right back in by aid of the mess of slick your pussy is drenched in.

“Osik, cyar’ika,” Boba groans and hisses, his head dipping to rest his face against your shoulder as he thrusts again, “You’re tight.”

He takes your unintelligible whimpers as a sign that despite your tightness, you’re feeling nothing but pleasure, that fire in your belly roaring. He starts to move his hips faster, and you moan louder, gripping him tighter. Boba’s practically splitting you in half, your pussy gaped around his fat cock like a second mouth. You begin to weep actively now, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks at Boba’s unforgiving, grinding thrusts. He turns his head from the crook of your neck to kiss your parted lips, swallowing a whining sob with his tongue.

“You like this old man’s cock, little girl? This dirty, fat cock?” Boba hisses and you can barely hear him over the loud, obscene sounds of the squelch of your cunt and the slap of his balls against your ass. It’s all so much and you writhe, back arching when Boba angles his hips and hits a new, much more exciting place inside you.

“Yes!” You sob, eyes snapping wide when Boba hits that deepest place inside you, the gummy nodes of your cervix. His pistoning hips hit that place over and over, driving you into the bed and closer to your impending release. Your pussy clenches and flutters around Boba’s thick cock, resulting in him groaning and picking up the pace. After a sliver of quiet filled by your wanton moans and Boba’s grunts, he speaks.

“Cum. Give it to me, sweet girl.” One of his hands moves so that as he’s pounding you into oblivion, his thumb can roll circles on your sensitive bud. You whine loudly, hips bucking and breaking the rhythm before Boba gains control again. The rough pad of his thumb presses down on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. Boba kisses your crying lips, pulls at your bottom lip, and the pressure in your core raises insurmountably.

“Let go, cyar’ika,” He murmurs against your cheek, and you hyperfixate on his voice above all the other noises in the room— the wet slapping, your own moans—, “Easy.”

Then you cum so hard your vision and hearing cuts out, and all you can sense is your cunt gripping Boba’s cock in a vice. You choke on the poignancy of your orgasm, almost not comprehending Boba’s lips that come smashing down on yours. He groans into your mouth, your pussy fluttering and clenching around his cock as it gushes your release on him, your thighs, and the bed. It takes only one more flutter of your cunt and one more thrust that Boba seizes, his body lurching to lock his hips to yours, and his cock erupts within you.

The foreign feeling of Boba’s member twitching and releasing spurt after spurt of hot cum inside of you manages to pull you back and you sigh, kissing his gaping lips. Boba’s shoulders heave beneath your hands, rocking slightly with the shallow thrusts he does to prolong his orgasm and shoot out all the spend his tight balls gave. You pull him flush against your body, hands rubbing the tense muscles of his back as a few, final rolls of his hips later, Boba stills with a low groan.

“Oh, Stars, Boba…” You moan, blinking away the wetness in your eyes, forehead pressed against his. Boba swallows, his eyes closed, and plants a soft kiss to your lips, which you return by kissing his cheek. When his eyes open, the satiated, calm, and happy look in their honey brown makes your heart soar alongside the tingling buzz in your body. Boba kisses you again, presses closer just so that you can whimper at the feel of his cock softening inside you, still big enough to stretch your cunt.

“I do have the chip, but I should have pulled out.” Boba frowns after he breaks the kiss, glancing at the mess of his sticky cum as he pulls from your body. When you look down too, pearly white lines of his cum are steadily seeping from your swollen cunt, a mess of it on your thighs as well. You whimper at the loss of him, and shake your head, hands scrambling to pull him close again. Desperately, you kiss his neck in a forgiveness that he doesn’t truly need— he’s done nothing wrong.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his, “I like it. Feels nice.”

Boba hums in amusement, one hand ghosting over your pleasantly aching cunt, which has you gasping at the feather-light touches. His fingers toy with your flowery pussy lips, scooping up his and yours releases onto a single finger. You watch in awe as he brings the glistening mess to your lips, a possessiveness on his face that floors you.

“Open.” He demands and you submit immediately, parting your lips so that Boba can slide his finger past your bottom lip and stick the mess of cum directly on your tongue. You moan softly, sucking at the flavor of his salty, earthy release and your own unique tang. Boba stares at you the whole time you tiredly suck at his finger, eyelids drooped low.

“Good girl, very good girl.” He praises after you’ve licked his finger clean, going to kiss you for all your effort. This kiss is slow and thoughtful, tender in a way that makes the afterglow of sex all the more sleepy. Boba doesn’t look as tired as you, but he rubs a soothing hand on your hip that practically urges you to sleep. He lays next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight, and pulls you close.

The combination of the praise and endearment, his tender touches, the warmth of his body, and the ache and wetness between your legs all makes you want to cry with the emotion you feel. Evidently however, when Boba lifts one hand to caress your cheek, he wipes away tears with his thumb and you realize you have started to cry. He pulls you in so that your head rests on his chest, nearest where his beating heart thumps in a strong, steady rhythm.

“Sweet girl.” He says, and in the murmur you can hear the question of “What’s the matter?” and the reassurance of “It’s okay” and after a few moments, you sniffle. Blinking back tears, you kiss the pec under your head, the broad muscle soft with relaxation. You meet Boba’s stare and smile tenderly.

“I’m okay, just…” You trail off, unsure of what word to exactly use to describe the absolutely world changing experience you’ve just had. Boba doesn’t speak or try to offer you a word that only might fit, and instead smoothes his hand up and down the slope of your hip. You sigh, nuzzling your face into the soft part of Boba’s neck, not really wanting to think over the buzzing ache of your cunt.

“I feel really nice.” You murmur into his skin and Boba’s chest vibrates with a chuckle, which makes you blush with minor embarrassment. He scoops his arm under your waist, his broad fingers splaying over your back.

“I would hope so,” He replies, kissing you when you lift your face, “I didn’t intend for you to feel anything but.”

The determination and pride in Boba’s voice makes you shudder, that familiar tone making your ruined pussy flutter weakly, but you suppose you should probably stop him before his ego grows too big. You giggle, smiling against his lips which nip at yours to guide you into another kiss. As he claims your mouth again, the sudden revelation of losing your virginity takes over your thoughts.

You pull back from the kiss abruptly, a frown curling your lips downwards before you can prevent it. Immediately, Boba asks in that gruff firmness, “What’s wrong?”

The question shouldn’t necessarily shock you, but it does throw you a tad off-guard considering there technically is nothing wrong. But the slight sting and sinking feeling in your chest doesn’t ebate, especially when you ponder on the topic a tad longer.

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just...” You trail off, tracing one of the scars on Boba’s chest with your fingers. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you find the heat to be a very good distraction. He silently urges you to continue by pressing his hand flat against your back. Sighing, you purse your lips into a tight frown and half shrug.

“I just— I don’t know— I’ve been a... virgin... and now I’m just... not.” You finish lamely, unable to meet Boba’s stare, so you settle on watching the rise and fall of his chest. Under the dim light, you just now realize a sheen of sweat veils his skin, making him appear dewy. You wonder if you look much the same, glossy from sex.

It’s not that you’re ashamed of losing your virginity— how could you be with the pleasant ache between your legs and nestled in the arms of a man— of Boba Fett, but the feeling is like losing a pet. They’re there and with you and you have them for years, and then in one day (or night, in this case) they’re just... gone. It’s all a lot to take in at once.

“Virginity is only a concept, sweet girl,” Boba kisses your forehead, his hand raising to swipe baby hairs from your face, “It has no true reign over you.”

You exhale against his chest and nuzzle your face into the soft part of his pec, thick with muscle and fat. Boba holds your hand atop his heart, plants it to him like he’s welded it to his body. Of course you know this, the label is as superfluous as it’s importance is deemed highly revered by most cultures. But here, in Boba’s safe and warm arms and bed, to Hell with society.

“Well… I had a very wonderful time.” You giggle sheepishly, looking back up at a very pleased looking Boba, who hums nonchalantly but his eyes express that proud, confident look in them. Ever so slightly, the corner of his lips twitches upwards in a genuine smile, not the smirks from earlier, but something warm that shows in his eyes.

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl.” Boba replies, lips hovering just above yours in a way that makes you wait with bated breath. There’s that tone of promise again, an inkling that teases a very familiar coil inside of you. Boba’s mouth is on yours, open kissing you and messy, but slow. He swallows every little noise you make, hurries his tongue and gnashing teeth when your legs entwine with his.

“Boba.” His name passes your lips, in that same broken plea from earlier when his hands, as they are beginning to do now, touched and caressed all of the places that made you sing. You’ll let him do it again and again. Legs spread, skin touches, hands explore— in a matter of moments Boba has you whimpering and whining again, all desperation and need.

“Good girl,” He coos to you as he rolls back on top of you, snug and hot and tight between your legs, for your ready core,

“My good girl.”

[animerunner]

?;:,,:&((? people with adhd are allowed to be in relationships what the hell are you going on about



Anon love.

One: I HAVE DIAGNOSED ADHD. 

Two: I have absolute not the faintest idea where you got that from my post.

You completely missed the point of that post so spetacularly. And I am being reminded of why people on this site have to say reading comprehension is important.

Because at no point in that post did I say one I did not want Lumity. I find the idea cute.

However what I did say was that Luz needs time to process her feelings. And the fandom needs time to let it happen.

You want to know why we know she hasn’t done this.

This answer from Dana’s AMA in September:

Three:...you DO know these two aren’t in an actual relationship in canon right? This, this right here

Is the closest thing we have to them doing something relationship-y

Four: me not wanting them to kiss when Luz hasn’t acknowledged the feelings. And this happens three episodes prior:

And is bound to cause problems between the two.

Also y'al really, really don't know what its like to have everyone your age consider yourself a 'werido'. Strange. Someone not worthy of being friends with.

Which is great that you have never experienced that pain.

But that also means you don't know what that's like for Luz. You can speculate. You can conjecture. But you have no idea of how lonely and painful that is. Even if you learn to mask it like both myself and Luz did.

You want to know why I know what its like? My school was so bad that at one point it was featured on a documentary tor bullying. Yes it was that bad.

My entire female half of the class was bullying me. And mind you in a class of 30 something there were only five guys. So I had 20 odd girls picking on me at once. Among other things I dealt with: 1. Having my clothes thrown out during gym.

2. Getting called names.

3. Having a guy physically jump over me in said gym class.

4. No teacher to turn too. No safe space.

5. Having a mental break down when having to deal with going back because me, the kid who loved school, didn't want to go back.

6. Getting teased over my haircut.

And this happened over three months. THREE MONTHS. Before the advent of the internet. Social media. etc. So I was alone.

It got so bad that for years I hated when people called me Sophie instead of Sophia. Since Sophie was the ringleader.

Luz has most certainly had some sort of impact on dealing with that for years. And y'all need to get your heads out of the sand and acknowledge that there are bullying victims on this show.

Finally: Luz is not the only one to sort through issues. Amity's parents have been showing to be controlling. And while my rents have gotten as they got older. And are not on Amity's level.

That kind of shit has an impact on your relationships.

Amity has to make the decision to actively step out of her parents shadow before anything can happen between the two of them. Yes she's made stride in the right direction thanks to Willow and the grudgby match.

But most likely at this point she hasn't made a stand against them yet.

To wrap it all up: Let Luz and Amity grow into their relationship. And stop conflating me wanting this with 'blah blah your saying mental illness'. WHEN ITS NOT. Yes her ADHD will have an impact and this needs to be acknowledged. ESPECIALLY WITH THE OWL HOUSE.

Since again y'all like to ignore this but there are a lot of chronic illness/disabiltiy parallel. And having ADHD will have an impact.

But maybe we should be talking about the fact that you looked at my post and decided that addressing ADHD means no relationship. Because that is not a healthy attitude and extremely black and white ALSO STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH I NEVER SAID.

[wei-yiing]

Ohhoho a drabble you say? How about something with cloud recesses summer school time but a matchmaker takes advantage of all the eligible bachelors in one spot and ensuing wangxian? (Stay well, friend!)

[ anon i saw this and sat on it for three days and i could only produce this awful drabble :') i'm still posting it because i love you. :"") ]

"Sect Leader Lan, you don't have any daughters, do you?"

Jin Guangshan's voice dances in the air as he quietly sips his tea, eyes lidded as he maintains his gaze with Lan Qiren.

"No." He grumbles as he restrains the urge to rub his temple. It would be unbecoming to fidget in front of their honoured guest, but Jin Guangshan is making it awfully difficult not to. "No, there are no female cultivators or next of kin within the Cloud Recesses."

"Well then, I'm sure we can figure something out." The man opposite places his teacup down with a smile. The sparks amidst snow covering the fabric of his clothing is somewhat garish to the eyes. Then again, the entirety of Lanling Jin always announce their presence with the loudness of their appearance. "I'm sure the various sect leaders have daughters that would suit your nephews' taste. And with their good looks and well behaved manner, whichever fair maiden we find should count her stars."

Masking a sigh as a contemplative exhale, Lan Qiren brings his own cup of tea to his lips. As much as wishes that were the case, he knows the situation may not be so easy-flowing with his younger nephew. Lan Wangji has been blessed with an attractive face, and he is Lan Qiren's best student, always devoted and adherent to his strict upbringing; but he's lacking in the charming softness that his brother possesses, and as such, has not quite mastered the nuances of courting a lady. In fact, Lan Wangji never even seems to try. Which, in all honesty, Lan Qiren takes no issue with. He would much rather this than the alternative of Lan Wangji frolicking around with women by his side, or worse, some wretched vixen ruining his good name altogether.

He grips the tea cup tighter.

Alas, Lan Wangji's sub-par social skills result in every attraction towards him being purely superficial, and Lan Qiren does not wish for that, either. Lan Xichen will easily find a sweet, mild woman who will accept every facet of him, but where in the world will they find someone who is willing to look past Lan Wangji's cold demeanor? Where in the world will they find someone that Lan Wangji, the ever-disinterested and studious boy that he is, will take a liking to?

Taking advantage of the congregation of disciples from multiple sects all over the land, Jin Guangshan had travelled to speak on this matter to Lan Qiren personally, putting forth his proposal of a mass-arranged marriage agreement between the five major sects to strengthen their bonds. It's a novel concept, with most sects usually choosing to continue their lineage within the clan. But somehow, Jin Guangshan being Jin Guangshan, he had swayed most of their fellow sect leaders already, and decided that while the disciples are familiarising themselves with one other, it would be a good opportunity for families to mingle and arrangements to be written.

His guest seems to have picked up on his silence as a sign of musing. "Ah, Sect Leader Lan, don't worry. We have so many unorthodox children here, but I assure you, they will all definitely find a match. Is it Second Young Master Lan you are concerned about?"

It seems even Jin Guangshan is aware of the situation. "Yes, somewhat. He is a very particular person."

"Indeed." Jin Guangshan openly sighs, his lips upturned. He takes a second to survey his surroundings, listening to the gentle sound of water cascading in the distance. The air is cool, and peaceful. As the Cloud Recesses should always be. He looks back to the table and opens his mouth. "That hot-headed Young Master from Yunmeng Jiang."

"Young Master Jiang?"

"No, the other one. The dogged and flippant one. He seems to get along with Second Young Master Lan, from what I've heard. Perhaps a political marriage would be good for relations between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan?"

Lan Qiren stares with a furrow in his brow, before the implication sets in and he abruptly slams his teacup down. "You don't mean."

"Young Master Wei Ying, was it?"

-

"Shi-jie deserves so much better than that pompous, smug... brat. He's a brat. There, I said it."

"Wei-xiong, don't be so loud." Nie Huaisang hides his mouth behind his fan as he walks alongside him. "You've already gotten in trouble for fighting with Jin-xiong once. Don't let anyone hear you again."

"He's right. Wei Wuxian, you can't do anything about it now." On the other side of him, Jiang Cheng huffs in annoyance. "They're betrothed. And at least shi-jie seems to like him. Usually in a political marriage, neither person has any strong feelings on the matter."

"But why does she like him in the first place? He's so... ugh. I just don't understand political marriages."

"Heh. Is that so?" An arrogant voice cuts through the air behind him, and he freezes, as do Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng. Nie Huaisang's fan stops fluttering.

Not you, not now...

"Jin Zixuan."

"Wei Wuxian."

Nie Huaisang leans over, whispering into Wei Wuxian's ear behind his fan. "At least address him formally, Wei-xiong!"

He whispers back, though he makes little effort to conceal it. "Why should I bother when he didn't?"

"You were saying something about political marriages? Very timely."

Jiang Cheng inhales intently next to him, but says nothing, knowing Wei Wuxian already has the arrows of his words drawn. "Are you going to tell me more about your arrangement? I don't want to hear about your opinions regarding your betrothal to my shi-jie, Young Master Jin."

"You're far too presumptuous, Young Master Wei. I was going to tell you nothing of the sort. Well, Sect Leader Lan had intended to tell you himself, but I believe he's having a stroke somewhere, and my father told me to come fetch you."

Nie Huaisang snaps his fan shut. His voice is trembling, though less out of concern and more out of entertainment. "E-Excuse me?"

Jin Zixuan crosses his arms, smirking. "Sect Leader Lan is fine, don't worry. He's just processing the arrangement put forward for you, Young Master Wei. I believe Sect Leader Jiang shall be arriving soon to officiate it."

"Wait, huh?" Jiang Cheng sputters before Wei Wuxian has a chance to. "What arrangement?"

Wei Wuxian had been sincerely hoping he wouldn't be swept up in the tumultuous matchmaking scheme that has infested the Cloud Recesses. From the sounds of it, it seems his fate has been decided for him already. Oh, well, as long as the young maiden doesn't mind his love for fine wine and won't ask too much of him in the way of house chores, he's sure it won't end too badly. He'll be a better husband than Jin Zixuan ever could, that's for sure. "Who's the lucky soul that I'm engaging?"

"Unlucky soul, more like." All three of them stare at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes, waiting for his answer. He snorts, looking off to the side. "Oh, what a coincidence, there he is."

Wei Wuxian violently turns his head to see what Jin Zixuan is seeing. Over on he other side of the courtyard, Lan Wangji is standing before his older brother, and staring back at Wei Wuxian with an unreadable expression on his face. "What? But that's just..."

Jin Zixuan's haughty smile grows wider as he looks Wei Wuxian in the eyes. "You're being engaged to Lan Wangji."

[nordleuchten]

what were other friends that Lafayette made during his time in the continental army (others than hamilton and laurens)?

and also, did he pick up some/many fights with others ('cause of diferent opinions or smth) while he was in america? thank youu

Hello Anon,

sorry that it took me so long to answer you, I somewhat misplaced my draft and things went downhill from there. Thank you for our great question though. La Fayette made many other friends beside Laurens, Hamilton, Jefferson and Washington, but many of them are often overlocked. (I copied parts of a previous post that also dealt with La Fayette’s friends, so please be not surprised if some passages may sound familiar.)

La Fayette was the sort of person who made friends easily. He was not a grumpy person, being on good terms with somebody was his default mood so to speak. Some of the lesser-known friendships that he struck up during his time in America were with James McHenry, James Monroe, Henry Laurens, Nathanael Greene and Baron von Steuben for example.

James McHenry first met La Fayette when they both were members in George Washington staff. McHenry later transferred to La Fayette’s staff (March of 1781) and was one of his most trusted aide-de-camps. He often was chosen as La Fayette’s “liaison-officer”. I have three excerpts from letters by La Fayette, detailing his relationship to McHenry. The first one was written by La Fayette to McHenry on February 15, 1781, a few months before McHenry joined his staff:

My tender friendship and affectionate Regard for You, will Not lengthen this letter with Assurances from My Heart While the Heart itself must Be known to You. I intend to write You Again in a few days and with Every Sentiment of Attachement and Esteem Have the Honor to be Yours

Lafayette

The second letter was addressed to General Greene on August 12, 1781, concerning a potential transfer McHenry’s into Greene’s staff.

McHenry is So well Acquainted with My Sentiments for Him that He knows My attachement is independant of whatever Steps He Might take on the occasion. He knows I am not of a temper that finds faults with the Measures of My friends, and that I will ever feel an obligation to the Man who obliges General Greene.

The last letter was written to McHenry on December 26, 1783. McHenry at this point had already retired from the army.

As an ardent lover of America I am glad to Hear of the influence You are said to Have in Congress. As Your most affectionate friend I shall Be glad whenever You Have an opportunity to display Your abilities. If Congress do not send me Any Commands, I shall Most Certainly embark in the spring. If they Have Commands for me, I would Be thrice Happy to Receive You along with them, and to Make with you french and European travels. You ought to Make them charge you with some political commission to Courts in Europe, and I would like going as a volonteer with you. [Manuscript torn; part a line missing] Your family and our friends. Most affectionately I am for [manuscript torn; several words missing].

Lafayette

I showed you this many letters for several reasons. First, McHenry deserves more attention if you ask me. Second, they show not only their emotional relationship but also their professional relationship and illustrate how convinced La Fayette was by McHenry’s merits - and lastly, I like them all and could not decide. :-) Years later, during La Fayette’s imprisonment, McHenry was among the people who tried to help him gain his freedom.

On to James Monroe. Monroe was, just like Hamilton, close in age to La Fayette (actually, La Fayette was older then Monroe by several months) and spoke French. They both moved in the same social circles during the Revolution and had some common friends. It was also Monroe, who, with the backing of Congress, invited La Fayette to visit America once more in 1824/1825. La Fayette received the rights to some land during this visited and later gifted some of this land to Monroe so that Monroe could start paying off his mounting debts. Here is what La Fayette wrote to Monroe on December 19, 1784:

My dear Sir

I Have Received your letter to mr jefferson, and shall very Carefully deliver it. Our old friend Gibbs will give you a Bundle of papers for McHenry which I Beg you will keep for Him untill He Comes to Trenton. To morrow morning, My dear Sir, I set out for Europe, and Before I go, it is pleasing for me once more to assure you of the value I Have By Your friendship, and of the affection and regard I Have the Honor to Be With My dear Sir Yours

Lafayette

(I may or may not have chosen this letter because McHenry also makes an appearance.)

Another friend was Henry Laurens. Laurens was the father of John Laurens and the president of the Continental Congress for some time. He and La Fayette first started corresponding when La Fayette was recovering from his gunshot wound. He wrote Laurens on December, 1777:

I am indeed very importune to wraÏt so long a letter. You'l find me very troublesome, and I make haste to put an end to it by the short assurance of the eternal friendship I am with - Dear Sir Your most obedient servant

(La Fayette had a moment of self-realisation right here.)

Another very dear and very close friend of La Fayette’s was Nathanael Greene. There is a letter from La Fayette to Greene from November 10, 1780 that perfectly captures his feelings. La Fayette wrote:

My dear friend (…)For My friends, My dear Sir, I have No different feelings from those which I experience for Myself. I therefore feel for you, as I would do on My own account was I the Commander of the Southern Army. (…) But Whatever Might be hereafter the Case, Whatever Bad chance (and in our profession chance is Some thing) a Malignant fortune Might throw in Your Way, Be Certain, My dear Sir, that My friendship as well as My esteem for you are founded upon Such a Bazis As Cannot be shak' d By Any Run of Good or ill luck which May subject You to the praise or to the Blame of Common opinions. In all Cases, My Good friend, I am heartly willing to have My fate united to Yours, and By this junction of Stars to have My little share in Any thing Good or Bad that May happen to the troops Under your Command. I Beg you will present My Best Compliments to Your family and Most affectionately have the honor to be Yours forever

Lafayette

In the same letter to Greene, La Fayette also described his feeling for Henry Lee, a member of the prominent Lee family and someone La Fayette met through the army. He wrote Greene:

As I am Sure that My friend Lee will apply for being attach'd to me, I Beg leave to Support the Motion of that officer whom I Love, and on whom I Greatly Confide Both for Advice and execution.

The Baron von Steuben (what a legend) was also counted among La Fayette’s friend. The two of them spend a lot of time together during the Campaign in Virginia. La Fayette wrote to von Steuben on July 16, 1780:

I received, my dear baron, the letter you had the kindness to write me, and I am infinitely appreciative of the token of friendship you give me. (…) The confidence I have always had in your friendship and the new proof of it that you have just so graciously given me, my dear baron, assure me that you will be willing to make efforts and use your influence and authority to get first-rate men. (…) In a word, my dear baron, I put my interests in your hands and, counting on your friendship, I am utterly at ease. (…)I hope I do not need to assure you of my tender affection

This list is by no means exclusively but I think these were the most important friendships for La Fayette. Others friend that could be mentioned was Joseph Reed, William Heath and William Carmichael … now on to the “picking fights part”. No, La Fayette was nobody to pick fights. That was simply not his style. There were disagreements of course, mostly over military and army matters, but these could either be dissolved or La Fayette acknowledged that he was for the most part the more junior and inexperienced person in the disagreement. He was however somebody who was not afraid of letting his opinion be known.

There are for example Generals Gates and Conway, two officers who were involved in what was called the “Conway-Cabal”. There is a bit of a discussion nowadays about the true extent and nature of the “Conway-Cabal” but for people back then, for people like La Fayette, it was a very serious affair. Previously he had been on quite friendly terms with both Generals, even trying to form a deeper friendship with Gates, but after the “Cabal”, their relationships soured. La Fayette wrote the following about Conway in a letter to Henry Laurens on January 26, 1778:

Amongs All the men who could be sent under me Mr. Connway is the most disagreable to me and the most prejudiciable to the cause. I Confess you that love and friendship have alwals been my duties. This last sentiment I feel to the most perfect degree for General Washington. How can I support the society of a man who has spocken of my friend in the most insolent and abusive terms, who has done, and does every day all his power to ruin him, who tries to spend the fire in every part of the army and the country?

La Fayette also manged to almost get into a duel while in America - but not with an American but an Englishman. The British had sent a peace commission to America to probe the possibility of a peace treaty. One of the people they send, Lord Carlisle, insulted France in an open document. La Fayette felt offended on behalf of France and challenged Carlisle to a duel in late September of 1778 - Carlisle refused. The Marquis noted of the event in his memoirs:

In a public letter, signed Carlisle, the French nation was taxed with a perfidy too universally acknowledged to require any new proof. With the effervescence of youth and patriotism, M. de Lafayette seized this opportunity of opposing the commission; and the first impulse of M. d'Estaing was to approve of his conduct. A haughty challenge was sent from head - quarters to Lord Carlisle: the answer was an ill - explained refusal, and the impetuosity of M. de Lafayette was attended with a good result, whilst the prudence of the president was ridiculed in every public paper.

Roughly two decades later he wrote in his mauskripts:

Lord Carlisle refused, -- and he was right.

I hope that I could answer your question and I hope that you have/had a fantastic day!

[amaya-chwan]

Therapy Game Restart Discussion: Who is Onodera?

Hello everyone! Hope you are all well~ ❤️💛💜 I've had a headscratcher of an ask/message regarding Onodera, so I figured I'll make it into one big post!

Before I begin this Q&A/discussion post (feel free to comment below if you have any thoughts), I have looked through past chapters to gather the information I will put into this post to support my predictions. Not all chapters are readily available for everyone at the moment as only one volume of TGR is out right now, so I shall put the chapter numbers for your future reference! ⚠️ Also, just a note! These opinions are my personal thoughts, conjectures, and opinions, so please don't think I am saying one idea or speculation is wrong--this is just how I see it, and of course I could very well be wrong! And I also am not fluent in Japanese, so I may have some translation errors!

⚠️ Also, a warning, this will be a long post! Keep reading if you're interested and please let me know your own thoughts!

First, in an earlier ask, I was directed to a translation group that said Onodera is a man. With the help of Google and Google Translate (because I don't understand/speak Spanish), I found that post (dated April this year) and the origin of the picture they used in that post. The image is from Hinohara-sensei's 13th August 2020 tweet here and is also below for reference:

Now, all I can remember from first seeing that image is "Woow, so pretty! A female character? A love rival? A threat? OH it's the infamous director they're all talking about???"

This image was released around the time chapter 8 was released, i.e. the first chapter we see Onodera in full.

Looking at the image again, I can see how Onodera could be seen as a female or a male. Onodera has long hair, yet no visible breasts. There is no evidence of an Adam's apple, but that could just be because of the turtleneck as part of their outfit. Furthermore, in chapter 13, we see a view of Onodera from behind. There are no "womanly curves" visible in this view of Onodera.

After searching some Japanese blogs, some fans also had the same thoughts: no breasts = possible male, the shape of the face etc. Here are the blogs I found: [1] [2] [3] but most of these are from around chapter 8.

Just about the breast argument: there are a lot of different shapes for breasts. I learnt that when working at a department store selling bras during university. It is possible that Onodera is really flat chested or just has very little breast tissue. Not sure if that's getting too technical now, ahah, but what I want to say is that the lack of breasts isn't a definite yes to Onodera being a man.

Hinohara-sensei also has not explicitly stated throughout TGR so far (ch1-13) that Onodera is male or female.

From chapters 8-12, Onodera is always referred to as 院長 (director) by Shizuma and the nurses at the clinic. No gender-specific pronouns have been used in the story nor by any characters to refer to Onodera when speaking so far (that I have read). So confirming Onodera's gender is just misleading at the present moment.

We do find out in chapter 9 that Onodera's first name is 昌 akira. Akira is a gender neutral name in Japan. It is often given to males, but it is not uncommon for females to have this name. Which, I think, is genius on Sensei's part. It leaves us all thinking!

Q: So Amaya-chwan, what do you think Onodera's gender is?

Just for me as I've been reading TGR the past 1.5 years, I see Onodera as a woman as I have been "encouraged" to see Onodera as one by the little subtleties in the story, and Minato sees Onodera as a female, so I probably am viewing Onodera in Minato's POV.

(Please keep reading on for more insights and answers to questions! Really, this post is long! 😅)

In chapter 9, Onodera's older brother, who is also Shizuma's university professor (and his last name is not Onodera), makes small talk with Shizuma regarding the staff at his placement:

Shizuma's professor says: By the way, Shizuma-kun, how've you been!? You haven't been bullied, have you!? // The female team here is scary, right~ You know, Nakajou-kun and I were in the same grade...

So here, I'm made to think Onodera's clinic is pretty much all female, including Onodera too.

Fun fact: His professor uses the suffix -kun for Nakajou-sensei, yet Nakajou-sensei is a female and -kun is commonly used for males these days. But, it is also used for females in very specific situations. I'm not too sure what the situations are, but I have heard them used for females before.

In the same chapter (9), while Shizuma is changing out of his scrubs in the men's locker (?) room, Onodera walks in. He is slightly flustered, and kindly reminds her that she's walked into the men's locker room. Her reaction is "Huh? Ahh..." So here, again, I am made to believe Onodera is female.

While no gender-specific pronouns have been used to address Onodera, Minato and Itsuki have referred to Onodera as a female in chapter 13.

The kanji for "female/woman" is 女. In these two images, Minato refers to Onodera as 上司の女 female superior, and from Minato's story, Itsuki hence calls her 職場の女の人 female from (Shizuma's) workplace. This is the only time Onodera has been referred to as a female.

⚠️ Just a note going forward in this discussion, I will now call Onodera "she/her" as that is what I believe Onodera's gender is at the present moment!

Now, I did get a second ask from an Anon! Here they are below with my responses:

This one is about what's behind Onodera. I think she's a pretty interesting character. I actually think she's a trans woman or a non-binary trans woman. Sensei has been dropping so many hints to that... The name her brother calls her might be her dead name. He complains about her hair and what their father would say. She's designed to have flat breasts, perhaps she's not under hormone therapy, perhaps her "trips" and "days off" have something to do with reassignment surgeries...

She most definitely is an interesting character. I wouldn't say Onodera being transgender is out of the realm of possibility because the story is still ongoing. But regarding her name, I don't know if I'd call it a dead name since it is gender neutral already. Perhaps the kanji for a male Akira name would be different to a female one though?

About the hair comment (ch10), I just thought it was unruly? I honestly didn't think too much of it! What I will add is that the kanji for hair (髪) is used, but the reading is あたま head. Not sure why just yet, so I'll just leave that here as some extra information for the moment.

Not sure what I really think about a) her flat-chestedness and b) her insanely long business trips yet! I figured a) might be a character design, and b) she really is a top-notch veterinarian so she's probably in high demand. But I could be completely off the mark!

Also, I don't know where to add this random bit in from the story, but in chapter 12, we find out that Onodera has been calling one of the staff the wrong name for more than 10 years now. Not sure if this new piece of info affects anything?

But again, that is a very interesting prediction/thought you have about Onodera, and I wouldn't say it's not possible!

She's kind of a female Minato, psychologicallly and in appearance, which brings some challenges. And one more thing that I think hints to that: "I'll make it so your body can never be satisfied by any woman", Minato says to Shizuma. As the last chapter leaves it at that, we don't know exactly what he is talking about. [spoiler?] I haven't seen the Japanese text yet to be sure if he's clear about topping Shizuma.

That was exactly my thought when she was first introduced! That's part of the reason why I think Minato sees her as a threat, especially when he saw her for the first time and was told she is a 美人beautiful person (both in chapter 12). She and Minato definitely share some characteristics, but I find she's a bit more socially-awkward than Minato given her background (Chapter 9 & 10).

For the dialogue, the Japanese lines and the most literal translations I can give are:

今から　静真くんを抱く From now, (I'll) hold/embrace you, Shizuma-kun.

どんな女に出会っても　絶対満足できない体にしてあげる No matter the women you encounter, I will make it so your body definitely cannot be satisfied (by any of them).

Hopefully we'll find out what Minato means by that exactly in the next chapter, which I hope comes to me this week!

But if that's what he's talking about, it's 1. poor Minato being transphobic (besides being biphobic towards his own boyfriend)* 2. poor Minato probably foreshadowing his own fall. If Onodera happens to be a woman with a d**k, she can do whatever Minato thinks a cis man only can do. That's not what will make Shizuma stay by his side. Shizuma will stay by his side because he loves Minato. And that's that. Debunks biphobic myths, debunks transphobic myths. *He's not a bad person, he's got issues

Okay, this is probably as straight-forward as I can say this, but I just want to say that I don't know enough about the issues faced by the LGBTQI+ community. My friends have kindly answered all my questions so far as I don't want to be ignorant or rude when learning more about my friends and the community. I don't want to give off the air that I'm assuming anything since I don't want any misunderstandings. And I am fully aware that I need to educate myself more regarding this!

So about Minato, I'm not completely sure what you mean by number 2. But he definitely has his share of trauma, insecurities, and fears regarding his relationship with Shizuma. Having Onodera as a threat in this story really helps drive Minato's growth. The story is titled Therapy Game Restart, so what I gather from the title is that Minato is going to face another fear/insecurity he has, something deeply-rooted in him, and it's going to get really heavy and complicated, but he will eventually get through it and it will help him heal and grow as a character, and hopefully strengthen his faith in his relationship with Shizuma.

So far, I believe this "fear" is carrying on from +Play More, that Shizuma can be whisked away by a female at any moment.

But yes, Minato has to realise for himself that his and Shizuma's love, relationship, and bond is strong enough for him to not worry about Shizuma leaving him so abruptly. He has to learn to trust in Shizuma more, and TGR is slowly revealing that, especially in chapter 13.

I'll stop here. I have already written long analyses on this series and I think about making them public at some point. But it would be nice to hear from you! Maybe I'm completely wrong in my interpretations! I'm really sorry for being so annoying and maybe using inappropriate language. I really didn't mean to bother you. But I never see anyone making these points. I just want to know if I'm thinking unreasonably...

I love reading different analyses, opinions, story predictions, the whole lot!! So please feel free to ask me or post your own ideas. It's always a welcome thing for me to discuss stories and learn new things! Don't be sorry that you're being a bother or annoying, because it's not a bother at all!

We're all allowed to have our own ideas and opinions about stories, and these ideas will change once something is canon in the story, and ultimately is something we will have to accept too.

So yeah, just my two cents. Thank you for being so patient with my response, dear Anon!

To anyone reading at this point, thank you for reading this far! ❤️💛💜

I shall see you in our next set of takeaways~ As always, stay safe and take care of yourselves and your loved ones! 💜

(2021-05-17: Speedy proofreading is done ahah! And yes, my brain is still so full of 山河令/Word of Honor right now, so I have been VERY distracted! Highly recommend this drama, guys! It's up for free on the official Youku Youtube page! Totally not an endorsement, but I love this drama! AHHHHH!! Gong Jun [Simon] be living on my mind rent free~)

[cruelfeline]

(1) "[H]is needs, physical, emotional, and mental, must likewise be addressed and comfortably handled. I do not accept the idea of something being done specifically to 'punish' him..." Sure, I guess. Hordak should have medical care and mental heath care if needed. He shouldn't be physically hurt or put in jail, Entrapta can help him, etc. And he'll probably be in a lab most of the time anyways. Treating him with humanity will help him be a good person. (Insert swedish prison studies here).

I... ah... Well. Yes. It will.

Though. I guess, for me, treating him with humanity doesn’t have anything to do with helping him be a good person. It’s just a thing that I feel should happen. Whether it makes him a good person or not.

Ensuring that he is safe and comfortable and well isn’t something that I’d want to do in order to help him be a good person. It’s something I’d want to do to ensure that his safe and comfortable and well. For its own sake.

Like... to look at it from the opposite direction: I wouldn’t withhold care or comfort from him if he wasn’t being a good person. Y’know? Like... I wouldn’t deny him a comfortable sleep or medication that helps him feel well because he wasn’t hitting someone’s moral goals. If that makes sense?

(2) So that leaves this: How much freedom should he have? If there was an event where princesses could invite someone, like with princess prom, could Entrapta invite him? On one hand, all the bad stuff he did, his rebuilding/renovation sentence, and the fact that his presence might make people uncomfortable. But on the other hand, saying “you can’t sit with us” punishes Entrapta for something she didn't do. (Entrapta's war crimes and extenuating circumstances are an ask for another day).

I would venture to say he should have as much freedom as is safe for him to have. I suppose I don’t see the point in limiting it? He’s not dangerous. His motivation for taking over Etheria is literally dead and gone. I don’t see a point to imprisoning him. 

As far as the specific scenario you mention (Princess Prom), well... remember that the Princess Prom seemed to have specific rules to encourage socialization and harmony in times of conflict (weapons and quarrels left at the door, so to speak). It’s very likely that enemies regularly met at the Princess Prom and were expected to treat one another with civility; I’d expect the same courtesy to be extended to Hordak.

And in terms of him making people uncomfortable... this is a difficult thing to address. On the one hand, yes: people will likely be afraid of him. And rightfully so, considering what he did. And people should not be forced to interact with him if they do not want to.

But on the other hand: such people are likely to be afraid of all of the clones, seeing as they all look the same. And sound roughly the same. And were part of a much more damaging war on Etheria. 

Is it “fair” to segregate all clones, Hordak included, forever, to keep other people comfortable? Is Hordak to be kept out of society for the rest of his life, because people are afraid of him? Or should he be kept out of it until... well, when? When he reaches some arbitrary level of “penance performed?” If he finishes rebuilding Etheria, are people automatically going to not be afraid of him now? Yes? No? If they still are, does that mean that he still needs to be kept locked away? 

One can go around in circles like this all day because there is no real answer. This is all entirely subjective. The level of segregation, of penance, of restriction, is entirely subjective. And that’s why I don’t really believe in it. I don’t believe in limiting freedom or inflicting suffering due to someone’s subjective opinion.

Rather, I try to ask how further harm can be minimized or prevented. And whether a restrictive measure is actually necessary to prevent said harm.

In terms of Hordak being restricted in some way: I don’t see a reason that he has to be locked away or forbidden from socializing. Do I think that he should be forced onto people? No. I don’t think anyone should be forced onto anyone else, former warlord or no. But I also don’t think that he should be sequestered away from the community that he is supposed to be working to join. 

(3) Also, should Hordak have to work constantly on the rebuilding/renovation, save for sleeping and medical leave? Or should he get to take breaks? It wouldn’t be fair for him to take a vacation while villages are still in ruins. Humans and Etherians need rest to have good mental health and be productive, but Hordak is a Prime clone, and the clones are probably designed to work without much rest. So would that be okay for him or no? Do you have any posts that explore this sort of thing?

Absolutely he should be allowed to take breaks. No question. None. For multiple reasons.

First: I do not view Hordak helping to rebuild Etheria as a punishment. And I feel that viewing it that way is... I’m not sure that “mistake” is the right word. Inaccuracy, perhaps? I’m not sure. Whatever one wishes to call it, the point is that Hordak fixing what he broke should not be considered a punishment. Any more than me cleaning up a vase I knocked over should be considered a punishment. It should be considered... well, “fixing what one broke.”

Etheria is Hordak’s home now. The Etherian community is his community. Helping repair the parts of it that he broke isn’t something that should make him suffer; it should be something that he does in order to be a contributing, responsible member of the community he belongs to. If he wishes to stay on Etheria, then it is only logical that he contributes to its successful functioning. Not because he has to “pay for what he’s done,” but because that’s what a responsible community member does.

Keeping him from having breaks or... I guess “enjoying himself” as he does this is, in my mind. an actual mistake. 

Something that I always have at the forefront of my mind when considering these things, anon, is that Hordak is healing. Whatever damage he caused, whatever traumas he is responsible for, he is just as damaged and traumatized. He did what he did not out of greed or genuine malice but out of a form of emotional sickness. He did it out of a need to be loved and welcomed and wanted. He did it because he wanted to belong.

Denying him those things until he reaches a certain level of “punishment complete” is... well. In my opinion, it’s another form of what Prime was doing. Another form of “you’re not worthy of happiness or love until you’ve done XYZ.” And I don’t like that. I don’t like that because it disregards the fact that, though Hordak should strive to fix what he broke, he is still an individual who underwent a severe amount of trauma and needs time and support in order to heal. If he does not get that time and support, chances are he will be further harmed. Chances are, he won’t become that well-adjusted member of society. Chances are he will remain emotionally sick and bitter and self-loathing. And those are not chances that I think are worth taking in the name of chasing an arbitrary sense of “fairness.”

Second, though just as important: I take significant umbrage with the idea that it would be acceptable to work clones harder because they’re “designed to work without much rest.” 

The clones were “designed” to be brainswashed slaves. They were “designed” to labor and glorify and sacrifice themselves for their god. That absolutely does not mean that they should be exploited as such. To do so would be vulgar.

The clones are people; they should be treated as such, not as the tools their slavemaster indoctrinated them into being. Now, if a clone wishes to work hard because he is comfortable doing so, then so be it. But he should not be expected to do so and be denied rest and relaxation because he was “designed” to go without. That... I’m not sure how to accurately convey how much such a concept disturbs me. A lot. It disturbs me a lot. 

Horde clones were purpose-bred as livestock. This was horrific. It is not something that should be taken advantage of by their new Etherian neighbors. 

And while I do see that you specify “medical leave” and thus may have taken this into account, I still wish to mention: it is generally understood in this portion of the fandom that, despite the show not really going into detail regarding it come season five, Hordak still suffers from his defect. He is still chronically ill. He is disabled. Demanding that he work at a certain level because he was technically “designed to” is ableist and cruel and can only contribute to his already-deep self-loathing. And this applies to any other clones who might be disabled and hiding it.

Finally: I do actually have a post addressing some of this! And as a bonus, it’s not just about Hordak. It includes Catra, too. It was written in response to some of the complaints I saw regarding both Catra and Hordak being forgiven “too easily.” Specifically, about Catra being so quickly invited into the group, if that means anything. It goes into my distaste at the concept of denying someone a sense of belonging until they achieve a certain level of “redemption.”

Here is that post. A quick warning: it’s a little sassy. I was annoyed when I wrote it. Should be read at one’s own risk, if one is uncomfortable with me being sassy.

I also have an older post about the importance of emotional support in the healing process. I feel like it’s also relevant, as it addresses things like providing companionship to people who may be considered as “not deserving it.”

Here is that post.

Let’s see... what else...

Oh! I also have this post about Hordak being forgiven without being redeemed. 

And I think those are the most relevant.

Anyway, anon, I hope that this provided some sort of useful answers for you! If, at any point, I came off as too sassy, I apologize for it. It is not my intention to sound rude, but sometimes I don’t realize when I do. Especially when I write about things that stir emotion in me. 

So! Thanks for the questions, anon. Have a lovely evening!

[savnofilter]

Official Callout Post

-> LONG POST

TW: mentions of suicide, ephebophilia, grooming, pseudo racism (microaggression). toxic friendships, harassment towards minors, mental health, fandom discourse.

*DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT BECAUSE OF MY AGE OR SOCIAL MEDIA. THIS IS BECAUSE TOXICITY/TREATMENT. This post is not just minors. This is for the people from different ages 16-22+ who feel like they did not have a voice by fellow BNHA writers.*

To anyone saying that I’m lying because I don’t have every single piece of evidence, please know that it is virtually impossible for me to have every evidence. Mixed with people being terrified and people simply not collecting screenshots it is not possible for me to have everything. Unless any of us had planned to talk about this from the get go when each, there is no way that we can have everything. I have everything that I could use to prove myself.

Important posts: answering asks to the callout, our official last statement.

Important docs: age & mental health timeline & hate messages.

Key:

Lady-Bakuhoe/Kingkatsuki = LBH/Jo

Katsukisprincess/Tamakisprincess/Ttamaki = KP/Sky

Burnedbyshoto = BBS/Lyssa

Tomurasprincess = TMP

Lemonlordleah/(-Shinzawa-Kitten) = LL

Jojosmilktea/Dimplesum = Jojo

Redbeanteax

League-of-thots

Bratwritings/Phasmwrites/Arcanumbras/Yeagerbombs

Important Topics:

Clearing statements

Addressing my callouts 

Alienated mental health

Fic stealing

BNHarem server regulation

Clearing Up and Corrections From Last Statements:

Updates

Grooming Section (Updated) - part 1. (8/1/20)

Grammar fix-up - all parts. (1/9/21)

Racist Undertones Section (Updated) - part 1. (1/15/20)

Mental Health (Updated) - part 3 (3/10/21)

People Who Aren’t Involved - part 1. (3/10/21)

My Age & Ladybakuhoe - part 1. (3/10/21)

Moved to google docs -> all parts. (6/20/21)

Added A&MH & HM - part 1 & addressing things. (4/17/22)

I have decided to update this because I have been receiving vile hate that I 100% believe who is behind it. Additionally, I have fixed up grammatical issues and context for places that need it. This update was only made in hopes that said writers would stop harassing my friends and I as they should've a year ago.

DO NOT SEND ANY WRITER INCLUDED IN THESE POSTS. DO NOT HARASS OR MAKE THEM VICTIMS. UNFOLLOW, BLOCK AND AVOID. I do not condone this being used in bullying ONLY in the hopes of informing.

My Age & Lady-Bakuhoe

My oldest documentation of me saying my age was on my blog in January 1st, 2019 // Official document concerning my age and mental health.

When I first came across LBH’s blog, it was through a reblog and nowhere on the post did it say 18+ or her blog. She also claimed to be 19 for a few months.

*Screenshots of the reblog.

*Screenshot of her blog at the most times of our interaction.

- sorry that the pictures are blurry.

That phone call I had with the person is factually incorrect. MCI is older than me by 5 months, and you all aren’t very bright for even believing that.

*Screenshot of me admitting I’m the youngest in the server.

You were also in my server when we revealed that both MCI and I are 15 year-olds (her birthday is in March, she is 16 now, making her never 14 when you guys interacted LMAO [Small note from MCI: My dumbass wasn’t even into BNHA enough to write fanfiction at 14, I was still trying to adjust to freshman year and I was way more active in writing on Wattpad at the time (the roots for anyone who didn’t start on fanfiction.net like you older people with kids]). The conversation happened in November, you left December.

*Screenshoshots of MCI and I talking openly about our ages again.

The reason Anon and I were on the phone was due to us discussing the callout post that DBN had made on me, and we talked about how DBN had lied saying that there was a “hate group chat” against me, when there was not. Then I brought up that she brought up in the post that I am a minor, and how I was worried about people sharing my personal information since Dee was the one who told DBN I am a minor.

I specifically remember the conversation going like this:

Me- “Yeah, I once said I was 18 because I was afraid of M**** not talking to me. I lied about my age once, but it felt wrong after that so I stopped after that one time.”

Anon- “Wait – I thought you were 17?”

Me- “No, I’ve never said I was 17. I turned 15 back in August, and have dropped hints here and there I am a teenager but I have not said I was close to that age (18) except that one instance in the server.”

I remember this conversation very clearly because she was the only person who I admitted that too (meaning everyone knew I was underage and never seen me lie), and after we finished our phone call, something told me sharing that information was going to bite me in the ass later.

This phone call happened on November 30th, 2019.

After months of us not talking, why are you talking about me, my personal business, and me in general? How did I pop up into your conversation? I would like to see the whole conversation, since it is clear that there was more to the conversation than my age.

*Screenshot that you first started reading/writing lemons (smut) that you were around (13-14) my age.

So how does this make me different from you?

I even talked about my school days, sharing my school time from the hours of 7:35~2:20 when LBH was still in my server (and active), and even in DMs when I mentioned my school hours once again.

*Screenshot of me mentioning my school hours in DMs.

*Screenshot of me talking about school hours in my discord.

*Screenshot of her a few chats down. oh and the person encouraging her is a minor btw.

You initiated most of our inappropriate conversations and you never once asked my age. You never asked if it was okay to talk to me like that, and you had no qualms about making inappropriate jokes towards me.

The person who relayed my personal information to LBH is also a minor, and Anon even told me in the phone call that LBH knows that she is a minor but that it was okay because, “Y'know, I’m 16. Jo knows that too. We don’t ever get too explicit, but she let’s some stuff slide since I’m turning 17 soon.”

LBH has knowingly and interacted with four minors I know for a fact that she knew were underage since 2/4 used to be in my server (meaning two of them still are), and have always been open about their age. All four of them interacted with LBH when they were 16, and are now all 17-18.

You also read my (very messy) posts back in November which contained the information that I am a minor.

*Screenshot of her saying she read the posts I made.

Gentle reminder, she was not 18+ until November 2019.

I would also like the receipts where I lied to YOU about my age and where I said I was 18. Stop abusing the fact that I’m underage to cover up what you have done.

BNHarem & Individual Writers Stealing

This section was moved from this part of the callout. Lyssa has only been the one that has been caught about stealing so far / have enough evidence.

We originally were going to leave this section out because the two writers in this situation (Kazooli and Kovori who had their works stolen) felt the other issues within the BNHarem was more important. Not really sure how to get started with this either, but since it’s been brought up that BBS has a history of stealing fics already, people thought it needed to be brought up again.

*Screenshot of Lyssa admitting to stealing Jo’s fic and then Jo proceeds to complain about how someone stole her fics LOL.

The whole conversation is a mess but I digress. The real issue is that you’re enabling stealing as long as you’re a writer/friend when it shouldn’t be allowed at all. You’re grown enough to know it’s not okay. How can people in college and/or in their twenties take this lightly? You get lawsuits for stealing people’s work.

There honestly is no excuse, and the fact people think writers recycle fics is probably one of the most insulting things I have read on this site. Writers aren’t supposed to fucking “recycle” or steal fics. You do it with creative drive, not because you want notes. You have been blamed for it four times and we only have clear evidence of two because the other instances the writers choose not to speak up about it publicly.

The fact that in BNHarem server someone goes “someone stole my fics” and everyone responds appropriately, but once BBS is caught stealing fic “it’s okay we all make mistakes” Your fingers don’t slip and copy fics or accidentally steal bits and pieces. There’s no excuse for it especially since this has happened already.

I understand the pressure of getting a piece or a work out, but where do you think plagiarism is a good idea? You’re in college but the concept of stealing someone’s work didn’t rattle your bones?

You people literally go on with hunts over people who steal your fics, but it’s okay once another writer in the community does it? Set an example for other people.

Repeating the same behavior is not a mistake and it’s not okay. What angers writers is that now that you guys are accepting this idea with open arms that, “oh no, as long you’re friends it’s okay!!” It’s not. The hive mind of just accepting everything that your favorite idols are doing without a second thought is toxic.

Ttamaki Apology + Addressing Server + Aging Up

Here is the apology that has been issued from the necrophilia post back on her old account. Having a written down tagging system on a blog is key, but using the universal tags is very important as well. I think it was a good idea that you have stopped writing heavy topics since it shows that you understand and are willing to change.

Shiggi-Lee had asked for staff audit logs to show there were not any mass deletions. Publicly you offered 90 days of logs, then in DMs you declined. We asked for audit logs because of the claims of bulk deletions of NSFW conversations in the SFW channels.

I am saying this in the beginning post so it sticks with you to the end: there is not a problem with aging up, and no we never called Lady-Bakuhoe a pedophile for writing minors. Please listen to our words as advice when you do your next work.

Ikinabi Apology for BNHarem Comment

It’s been brought up that Red has said some insensitive things while being in BNHarem (the comment is a little further down). Red has came to my DMs about it and has apologized.

Before we move on, I have also been sent a screenshot where remorse has been shown for making past statements and I do believe she can grow.

I’m saying universally, I do not condone that shit and anyone who believes like that, George Floyd’s situation should be a universal hurt for everyone. If you say insensitive shit on purpose and less on ignorance, you can go fuck yourself. If you actually show remorse and are willing to change, that at least is a better to a better mindset.

I believe Red is growing from this experience, and I really hope she does. What she said was not okay to just shrug it off and no it’s not something you have to forgive either. Although I am putting faith to see her change, Red needs to make sure that there is change happening. I’m not saying this is definite, but I will hold this accountable. In order to help someone grow, you need to promote change.

I’ll leave this quote for you guys to get a better understanding of what I mean: “Sure, I believe you’re not racist, but that does not mean what actions you did was not racist. People are so focused on the idea of being racist that the act of doing something racist is blown out the waters. To the point where calling out for doing something racist they go straight into defending themselves of not being a racist. Don’t defend, don’t excuse, just acknowledge. Apologize, understand and help other people learn.”

Being Blocked by Lady-Bakuhoe + "Jealousy"

The only reason I thought I was blocked from LBH was from the falling out we had in January was because of the fake drama she started between us after I fixed up everything between us. Which is why I thought it was confusing that she randomly blocked me months later. She did not let me know why she blocked me, and if I had known it was my age, I would’ve completely understood. I had even asked KP in dms if she knew why, and was informed that she hadn't known either.

It has also been brought up that I'm simply jealous of Jo. No, I'm not. 

Where the fuck does this connotation come from that I'm starving for followers and notes? If I was so follower hungry, why would I take so many mental breaks? I've even stated that I'm trying to get better in other areas other than just writing NSFW. I've stated that I picked up fanfiction so I could practice on my actual writing. I literally say shit like "no-no square" or "jerk his chicken" in my works. I’m only taking black/poc and lgbtq+ requests at the moment, and write for unpopular characters. 

Had she pointed her fingers at someone who has more followers than her and was eighteen you guys would’ve thought she was being stupid. It's such a big slap in the face when I see her and other people who I use to support, talk as if that's who I truly am when I'm not. When we're friends, I'm your #1 fan. Even if I just found you, I support the fuck out of your work. I have spent nights where I reblog people's works because I know how interactive my followers can be at certain periods of time. Honestly what hurts the most was that I was the one who warned her about people using writers. Really sad that instead of taking responsibility and acknowledging what you have done was wrong, you took the opportunity to just make me look bad instead. 

Stealing from BLM Donation pool.

A few people have shared their concerns of KP originally deleting her blog because she and other's stole the money. Once again, we have been informed of the real situation as to why she diet-deactivated. The receipt may also be found on KP’s tumblr.

*Screenshots are of the message posted in the server and receipt.

Racist Undertones 

People can have their own political opinion, but it is very inappropriate that while you’re raising money for a cause meant to uplift the black community and have a voice, you guys let ALM (All Lives Matter) conversations happen.

People have asked you guys to pin other black fundraisers/campaigns that you guys ignored. I don't even need proof for this, just go through your pins and see how it's not there. If you try and pin it now, you can also see the audit log in which it was pinned.

You let someone say that Hawks’ voice doesn't sound, "black"? If you can't correct that or teach your members to not say disrespectful things about police brutality victims, or even respect the black people that are in their lives, then you can't preach about Black Lives Matter. 

Being toxic apparently isn’t enough for them. There’s either a tap-dancing coon in my inbox or racist mayo monkeys still trying to grovel for my attention. Either way these asks don’t even make me mad, it just shows that they suck as people. This will be updated every time I get racist anons. They decided to send these after the attack at the U.S Capitol on January 6th, 2021.

*Hawks comment.

*Racist asks that they have sent even yesterday (Jan. 6th).

People Who Are Not Involved

I do not appreciate the fact that people who have nothing to do with the stuff going on, have not had their names blocked. There are names that you should have NOT included, and you PURPOSELY edited my members in. There's a whole chunk where I'm not even present and it's just my server members. Why?

We understand that the jokes being made look tasteless to other people who don't know the context, and no we have never sent or considered sending hate. What you saw in those screenshots were just a bunch of dumb teens sticking up for a friend who was talking about being hurt by her friends.

In regards to UWU, everyone knows how she can easily misread a room. I know for a fact that she has never and will never act upon sending hate to someone. What UWU has said wasn't me even if she did have my face as her pfp. I have never had myself as my pfp for blog related things. 

The other thing I would also like to address is the meme that Ginger had used in the conversation.

*This is the meme in reference to when Ginger made the joke:

*Ginger using the meme in other places.

Simply because an ex-friend saw LBH call Ginger out, they decided to expose the private business that Ginger entrusted said ex-friend with.

Ginger understands that it was a poor joke, and even stated in the beginning of the conversation that they didn’t even know you. Your poor choice to cover up Ginger’s name gave their ex-friend a bright idea to go on an exposing rampage, and tell people her old drama from Ginger's past. This caused the old disputes to be rehashed despite several efforts from them to grow from said discourse. I have seen genuine improvement in their behavior, and have shown to me in private DMs remorse on making such jokes without knowing the full situation. This has prompted Ginger to delete all their socials in fear of being doxxed.

Ever notice how she did not include the beginning part of the conversation? The basis of the conversation started when I opened up about DBN and Dee making a callout post about me, then it derailed to me talking about how I felt mistreated overall. You pulled the chats that only mentioned you so that everyone would look bad. 

If you’re going to take out-of-context screenshots, at least include the parts where I am doing more than saying, "LMAO" and reacting with emotes, not exposing my members who literally did not know what was going on. 

It's clear that all of the posts made about me was to only hurt my image and not create a change in my "behavior". 

And for the dumb-cow who wants to openly defend her friends weird ass behavior, here is the proper proof that the rude comments in the poorly edited conversation she included was NOT ME.

If you're going to make a callout post about Savnofilter, leave it at Savnofilter.

Grooming Claims

When the situation was brought to our attention, minors and adults spoke up about how they felt like they were manipulated and violated.

From what we can show and confirm is that there is probably one instance where it was, but no real child pornography was distributed.

The grooming that I, Sav, has personally experienced and with what my co-writers and I saw was her and her friends coaxing people to trust her then use them for tasks/breaking down someone’s health to make them dependent on her.

“Grooming is the predatory act of maneuvering another individual into a position that makes them more isolated, dependent, likely to trust, and more vulnerable to abusive behavior.” (1, 2)

The claims were mostly sexual assault (making sexual comments and etc.) and unprompted NSFW conversations (see age doc for more.)

“Joining Her Server”

I have never joined their server, never thought of it, and never will obviously.

Lady-Bakuhoe, Burnedbyshouto, and Ttamaki’s server is 16+, ⅔ of their blogs are 18+. Lady-Bakuhoe has said it herself that her server isn't 18+.

*Earliest screenshot of her saying her server is not 18+.

*Updated version of their admission to their server.

I also don't understand the idea where my friends and I joined their server? Like there is absolutely no proof that any of us did that lmao. 

For the people who are preaching that minors shouldn't be in your, "adult space", why is it 16+? Please sit down and read the room, thanks. 

Age Incident 

Incident because it only happened once.

To explain the instance that had happened on my server, a writer (not LBH) had asked how old everyone was. In response to the question, I had said 18 in fear that they did not want to be my friend anymore. I had later than deleted my comment, but I never brought it to said person's attention because I had realized that I already fucked up. I have mentioned my actual once in a private group chat, and I had thought that was the original reason why she had departed from my server.

Last year is when I had finally accepted myself as being bisexual and admittedly being the impulsive person I am, I accepted any type of female interaction just from that excitement alone. I was not aware that I would be conversing with people in their 20's, with the mindset that I had never met an adult who writes fanfiction. That one time I lied I used it as a defense mechanism which I still feel stupid about to this day. I just wanted to have friends who wrote as well and wanted to feel accepted without my age hindering that or hating me because of it. I didn't think that there would be anything illegal, and I never intended to be sneaky or anything like that.

Past that, 18+ is a content rating, had I known there were actual adults behind the stories I wouldn't have interacted like I did before. It was not until I realized until me being a few months in on Tumblr and interacting with other blogs that underage people in general were hated, and naturally it scared me. The realization that I unknowingly put myself in that situation made me defensive, hence lying ONCE about my age.

This post discusses not only me, but people who have felt wronged. Had Lady-Bakuhoe and friends had been open to listening when these instances happened, it would have not taken this turn. The behaviors discussed in this post were acts that were done over, and over again, not just a one time occurrence.

I’m not sure how to start this off, as many of you have seen I am piss poor shit at articulating for myself, but I will try to keep this as cohesive as possible. Before I start, don’t send me no stupid shit talking about “drop it already” when every writer and their mamas have been talking about it for MONTHS and even bring it up in every situation they can for sympathy points. I’m doing this to finally let go because when I did it the first time it wasn’t good enough for people. Many people have tried to tell me how I have felt or that they “know” me or have “seen this all before'”. No. The reason why I chose to speak in the first place was because I personally felt like I had been gaslighted/slighted by writer Lady-Bakuhoe on here. Not because of jealousy, not because I wanted attention, and not because I was mentally ill. What I felt from the months of even such as early September to late January was sincere and genuine even if I was going through stuff in my life.

The issue at hand has never been about:

Being called a predator for aging up in fics.

Me being upset over a block "about my age" or being jealous over notes/friendship.

I'm still developing as a person and that's why I can confidently say I'm sorry to anyone who has been turned off by my past behaviors. I formally apologize to the person I had lied to in regards to the age incident, and I apologize to any of my adults friends/acquaintances who genuinely thought I was 18. Who I was mentally from the end of August-January was a person I would never be today.

Furthermore, my co-writers ( @mci-writing​ & @shiggi-trash​ ) can swear on our behalf that the people who chose not to share their experiences are not lies. At first when the discussion had first started on MCI's blog, it was messy but we have trimmed and made this post to make it as coherent as we could. Please do not determine whether you support me or these writers simply because they make your favorite content. Choose based on what you read. 

Continuation here: ▸main post◂, one, two, three, four, five. 

[dubububbles]

SHINee’s reaction when being asked about their gf in an interview

(can i please request a scenario or reaction of shinee being asked about their gf on an interview?)

Requested by anon 

Onew:

“You recently revealed that you are in a relationship with y/n. What made you decide to make it known and how did your fans react to the news?” 

Onew would be very flustered to hear your name come up in the midst of an interview, since he had never really openly discussed your relationship before. He would feel very shy and not know how to address it without giving away too many details by accident. 

“Ah, that… uhm…” he stammered and rubbed the back of his neck a bit nervously. 

Whenever he spoke of you he would blush and not be able to hold back a smile, even in front of the other members, and they would often tease him about it. But once they saw how their hopeless leader was struggling, they would put that aside and step in to help. 

“I think what Onew hyung is trying to say is that it was a mutual decision for them to reveal it and that our fans are happy as long as he is happy.” Minho answered in his place. 

Onew then slowly nodded to show he agreed and also added a small sentence of his own with a nervous smile. The other members then collectively helped to change the subject in his favor. 

Jonghyun:

When a question about dating came up during a group interview all the members slowly turned in Jonghyun’s direction, because he was the only one in a public relationship at that time. When all the attention was suddenly on him he would feel a bit shy but also happy. 

“Oh, me?” he would ask and act oblivious at first to make the other members laugh before turning back to the interviewer to receive a more specific question, since the others had already pointed him out as the scapegoat. 

“Oh, Jonghyun-shi. You are in a relationship with y/n, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s right. We are both dating happily.” he answered with a fond smile and then received a row of related questions, such as how you met and how long you had been dating. 

You had been open about your relationship for the past few months so it wasn’t odd for him to get questions about you. It also didn’t bother him, as long as it didn’t concern either of your privacy, and he would always respond with a lovestruck smile on his face. 

“We’ve been dating for eight months already, hmm and for how we met… well since it’s not a story we want to share with everyone, I’ll leave that to your imagination.” 

Key:

Key had been open about your relationship for a while. He was proud of it and didn’t hesitate to showcase the two of you together on his Instagram or other social media. 

However, he felt a little more hesitant talking about you in interviews, since he wanted to be in control of what you decided to put out there and what to keep private. Whenever he received a question about it he would therefore answer in a careful and vague manner. 

“The next question is for Key. It’s a known fact that you are dating y/n and recently you became known as a ‘visual power couple’ due to a number of social media posts that went viral. Did you know about this?” 

“Oh? Really?” Key perked up at the question and then couldn’t help but laugh, since it wasn’t what he had expected but found himself proud of it. “I actually haven't heard about it but I definitely think they are right.” 

His confident response didn’t surprise the other members and they didn’t hold back from commenting on it and teasing him for the sake of creating good content for the show. It also worked as a way to swing the interview in another direction that wouldn’t circle around their love lives. 

Minho:

During a group interview the members would all draw questions at random from fans and Jonghyun happened to draw one directed at the second youngest member. 

“Oh, this question is actually for Minho. It’s about you and your special someone.” he said and turned to him with a small, teasing grin. “Why did you choose to reveal your relationship to the public and what has been the hardest part in doing so?” 

At first Minho had felt a bit nervous at the mention of your relationship, since you were both private and normally wouldn’t talk about it openly. However, after hearing the full question he felt that he could answer it and he would go on to do so with a warm smile. 

“Well, it was actually a mutual decision between y/n and I, since we felt the need to be open with our fans after dating for a long time. The hardest part about it is the fact that we are put in a vulnerable situation, where people sometimes get involved in our private matters.” he began and then continued to explain that despite the hardships and worries he had, he also had a lot of trust for shawols. Since, as a fandom, they were a mirror image of them as a group and normally held a great amount of respect for their private lives and other sensitive matters.

Taemin: 

Taemin was happy and comfortable in your relationship but would restrain from talking too much about it publically, mostly because he didn’t want you to be on the receiving end of negative comments from people who called themselves fans. So, when a question about your relationship came up in an interview, during a corner consisting of fan’s sending in questions, he felt a bit worried at first. 

“My question is for Taemin. Actually, I was curious about how the other members reacted when they first heard about your relationship with y/n?” 

“Ah, the other members?” Taemin repeated and then smiled, since the question was directed more at the rest of SHINee and not at you and him. “Ah well, I think they all reacted the same way. They were supportive but they also teased me a lot.” 

���Since you are the youngest, did the older members give you any advice? And if so, what was the best advice you received?” The interviewer added to follow up on the fan’s question. 

Taemin thought about it for a couple of seconds, while the other members watched him and waited in anticipation. 

“Actually, I didn’t receive any advice that was helpful.” He said at last, in a blunt but playful manner, which instantly had the rest of SHINee react in a mix of baffled laughter and strong disagreement. 

[artificialqueens]

Girl I Met On The Internet, 1/? (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

a/n: it’s me, the anon who was talking about writing a crygi stan twitter au. and as someone who has spent many hours on social media, i really enjoy reading social media aus so i decided to write one. my writing skills are rusty and i’m not sure how long this will end up being, but i hope you guys enjoy it regardless and stay for the (not really) wild ride! :-) 

Crystal was very active on stan Twitter. Being an outcast at school with only friendly acquaintances, she used it to fill her need for the social interaction she was not getting in person. 

That being said, she didn’t have a set group of Twitter friends yet. She was very friendly with all of her mutuals, having conversations on the timeline with a handful of them, but she had yet to make a deeper connection with anyone.

She had thought about joining a group chat, but they made her feel anxious. A lot of them have forty members! That seemed extremely overwhelming to her.

The poor girl had spent an hour one night weighing the pros and cons, and in the end, her desire for friendship beat her anxiety. She promised herself she would go out of her comfort zone and would rt the next group chat tweet she saw. Possibly. Maybe.  

-

She had made that promise to herself on Tuesday. It was now Saturday, and Crystal had woken up pretty early, determined to finish writing a story for her creative writing class. It was unusual for her to be up before noon, but today just felt different. Once she finished it, she opened up a new tab and went to Twitter, curious to see if anyone was awake. Jan was.

jan! • @.arisjantasy

rt to be in a random group chat!! 

requirements: 

just be nice! :)

adding the first 10 people who rt!

There were 6 rts already, so Crystal hit rt as fast as she could to reserve her spot. Jan was very nice, possibly the nicest mutual Crystal had ever made; if Crystal was forcing herself to join a group chat, one made by Jan would be ideal. 

Nervous, Crystal switched tabs, going to YouTube. Because it was so early, none of her favorite creators had uploaded anything new. She ends up clicking on an older video she had watched dozens of times. Halfway through the video, she gets a Twitter notification.

jan! has added you to a group.

jan!: hey guys!! :) 

Crystal quickly types out an introduction and sends it.

crystal: hi! thank you so much for adding me. im crystal! 

jaida: the queen of the gc has arrived. hi

crystal: hi jaida!

jan!: no problem, crystal. you seem very nice! 

nicky: bonjour ;)

gigi: good morning everyone

gigi: nicky we get it ur french

Gigi was here? Crystal saw her on her timeline a lot, despite not following her. She was Jan’s best friend, but seemed very intimidating. She reminded Crystal of the girls at school who would call her not so nice names, but she hoped Gigi wasn’t like that since she was close with sweet Jan who didn’t have a mean bone in her body. 

gigi: omg crystal hi

gigi: i don’t like 1d but u seem very nice it’s nice to meet u

Yes, it was 2020 and Crystal was still a One Direction stan account. She had lost hope that they would get back together ages ago, but she still supported all five of them. They were the only men she would ever love. 

crystal: i can change that just give me a week SKSGFDS

jaida: i love zayn does that count

crystal: yes ma’am!

heidi: HEY! sorry i’m late!

jaida: oh, miss heidi made the cut?

heidi: 9th rt, bitch.

jan!: jaida be nice :((

jaida: No <3

gigi: dont play fight yet ur scaring crystal!!! 

heidi: well. in that case.

heidi: crystal, tell us about yourself

jaida: pls.. i’m sick of these other hoes.. i’m a crystal stan now

jan!: :(( 

jan!: but yes crystal pls!

crystal: let’s see.. im crystal, im 16, a lesbian. i stan 1d, poppy, and i really like painting!! and thrifting!! 

Crystal wasn’t expecting to feel included since they definitely had an established group already. Them being interested in hearing about her made her feel like she fit right in.

She really hoped they would end up liking her.

-

A week later, the group chat was going strong. Crystal, Jan, Jaida, Heidi, Gigi and Nicky were the only ones who ended up talking in the group, so they decided to kick everyone else out. Jaida had the pleasure of renaming their chat to “Elites Only” after that, which everyone approved of.

They opened Crystal into their friend group with open arms, which Crystal was incredibly thankful for.

Crystal loved them all, but Gigi had to be her favorite. They had all shared fun facts about each other after Crystal did, and Gigi had revealed that she was also a lesbian, but was only out online. She was a cheerleader also who loved fashion and design. her account was very put together, filled with pictures of girls Crystal would later find out are from America’s Next Top Model.

Gigi fascinated Crystal.  

The other girls were also pretty cool. Jan was also a cheerleader who had high energy constantly. Jaida competed in beauty pageants, also had the pleasure of being the funniest person in the group. Heidi jokingly referred to herself as a ‘gamer girl’, but really only played the Sims 4. Nicky lived in France and had an odd obsession with sheep. Nicky also flirted with Gigi a lot and Crystal couldn’t tell if they were a thing or not. she didn’t know if Nicky was gay, but the thought that they were a thing made her feel sick to her stomach.

Crystal opened up her Twitter app on her way to school, seeing the last message to be sent was from Nicky, at nearly three in the morning.

nicky: i think you’re asleep for once due to the lack of noise.. weird and boring!

nicky: but anyway i hope you hoes have a good day <3 

Crystal smiled and hearted the message. 

crystal: someone wake up im boreeedddd 

jan!: hey im in bio!! its boring :(

crystal: im walking to school lol 

gigi: good morning jan and crystal bbs <3

Crystal knew she didn’t mean it like that, but it still made her soul leave her body. Naturally, she exited Twitter. This was far too much for eight in the morning. Far too early to address any of her feelings.

She had managed to go most of the morning without checking Twitter but eventually, after a bad encounter with one of the cheerleaders in her history class, Crystal gave in to her urges and checked her phone to try to cheer herself up.

Definitely a bad idea.

nicky: i want to post selfies before i go to bed

nicky: you all will support yes?

gigi: YES BABE!!!

Babe? Crystal wants to cry. 

jaida: i need your beauty on my tl now

crystal: yeah i wanna see what you look like

Crystal feels stupid. She’s known Gigi for a week; she doesn’t even know what Gigi, let alone the rest of them look like. Crystal thinks it’s far too early to catch feelings for someone on Twitter.

Nicky posts her selfies, and Crystal quickly confirms that she’s one of the most gorgeous women on the planet. No wonder Gigi was probably dating her. 

She goes back onto the timeline, only for it to be filled with nothing but Gigi hyping up Nicky.

gigi • @.jennerbitch

NICKY OH MY FUCJKING GO D??

gigi • @.jennerbitch

MY LITERAL WIFE WTF

gigi • @.jennerbitch

IM GAY!!!!!!

Well, that confirmed what she had suspected. 

Once Crystal got home from school, she types out a tweet before throwing her phone on her bed, distracting herself with homework.

crystal • @.mitamcrystal

sad girl hours :(

She checked her phone first thing in the morning out of habit. There were tons of messages from the group chat, as usual, but also a message outside of the group chat.

From Gigi. 

[shitsngiggles666]

Now that Cam’s parents and brother has been discussed, we will get to what I find most disturbing, namely the accusations Leopard made of the Camily having parallelisms with a cult. I will start by giving some background on Leopard and how she got the Camily’s attention. Leopard blogged on tumblr where she mostly discussed Queen, particularly drummer Roger Taylor. She quickly got a reputation for not shying away from discussing many topics taboo with Queen fans, namely the fact that all four members had flaws and seem quite different than how they are widely perceived by fans. The biggest taboo with Queen (asides from Paul Prenter, but that’s a whole other mess) is John Deacon. John has made no public appearance since 1997. I honestly have no idea why. There’s a very infamous video out there on YouTube of John Deacon being swarmed by autograph seeking fans. John becomes overwhelmed and starting moaning into his hands. I admit, it was hard for me to watch as John seemed quite vulnerable. Some have suggested he was crying or saying “I’m scared!” but I think he was simply having a meltdown. This footage is over ten years old. If you read the comments, you will see examples of fan reactions, many showing disgust and anger at the video. One that stood out in my mind was “we need to form a Deaky Protection Squad” or “I wish I had some cheese on toast to give him”. This will be relevant later on. In the mean time, ask yourself, does John Deacon need fans to protect him from other fans? Why do people fixate on his favorite snack so much? Maybe it’s because Americans find it random but it’s a common food in England, especially for people who need something quick, cheap and easy to make. I cannot state anything as fact, but there is probably more to John Deacon than how he is perceived by fans of Queen. Because of her willingness to answer any question even if they were about uncomfortable topics, Leopard got many anonymous questions about John, the great Queen taboo. She did receive some backlash even though she was respectful in her answers, being careful to note that she doesn’t know what really happened as she is unable to answer any questions for sure. She eventually did get some asks about Cameron Deacon, one about his perceived lack of hygiene, the other suggesting he only had so many fans because of his famous father. I will have to agree, these asks were mean spirited. Regarding Cam’s hygiene, Leopard simply wrote she didn’t know how to respond as she said she only ever visited Cam’s page once and wasn’t interested. The second ask called Cameron’s content “cringe” and that he only had fans because of his famous father. Leopard replied with “Anon don’t be mean” and that there’s definitely followers who shared his interests but that he blew up in popularity after fans of the Bohemian Rhapsody movie found him. I think this is very fair. It’s undeniable that many fans found him through Queen. I’m sure his subscriber and view count exploded in the late 2018-2019 after the film came out. Do any of these statements made by Leopard suggest hate? She even defended him by pointing out that many children of celebrities use their famous parent’s image to sell merchandise, after Cam was criticized for selling t-shirts with the Deaky name on it. Does any of this sound like spreading hate and her being a bully to you? Does any of this justify death threats? Leopard began receiving death threats from the Camily. One, a “Larry the Dolphin” messaged Leopard that they “will have to break their neck” if they “had something to say“. Leopard claimed the Camily was like a cult, due to their unquestioning devotion to Cameron and their extreme aggression towards her simply because she answered some rude asks. Leopard had told me that Larry learned of her after Cam mentioned her blog on stream. In fact, her blog and her asks were discovered by Cameron himself. Rather than trying to contact Leopard directly, he chose to read them live on stream. Cam was (understandably) offended by the asks regarding him. He also was upset to see some rather uncomfortable discussions of his brother and father. There are two asks critical of Luke Deacon. One was an anon mentioning he followed sex workers on social media. Another addressed a serious accusation of Luke made on a public social media by an ex-girlfriend of Luke. If she was enabling untrue stories about John to be spread, why didn’t he reach out to her, debunking them rather than trying to silence her with bullying from his followers, many of them still children? Leopard’s blog isn’t the only blog to discuss John Deacon’s personal life, and certainly isn’t the first-or last. I get the impression that Cam and Luke have a strong bond as brothers and Cam wanted to protect him. It’s understandable for Cam to feel defensive, but if he felt so bothered couldn’t he have talked to his brother about it? If the accusations are false, both Luke and Cam could politely reach out to Leopard. Since many fans of Queen are young girls, Cameron needs to understand that such behavior, if Luke did treat his girlfriend that way, is unacceptable. Even if Cameron doesn’t have a tumblr account he could of easily created one to pm her, like many of his followers did. I understand Cam is put in a unique situation due to his father. John is both reclusive and famous, of course people are going to talk. But, Cameron has five older siblings. Surely they would understand what he is going through. In fact, since some are old enough to remember when Father was in Queen and even when the press was hounding Freddie Mercury and Queen with AIDS rumors. A blogger replying to some gossipy asks has nothing on Fleet Street! There are a number of adult, mature ways Cam could handled the situation. Instead, he not only allowed his followers to harass Leopard, but actually encouraged them to. Leopard received death threats, rabbit emojis spammed her inbox and there were threats of mass reporting of her blog in an attempt to have it removed. Remember, Leopard made it very clear that her knowledge of John, Luke and Cam is limited and that people should never take her word as fact. What I am saying is the Camily’s behavior is uncalled for. What is worst, Cameron has no remorse choosing instead to see himself as the victim. Any “Camily” members who objected to the cyber bullying or confronted him for his behavior was blocked. In a later post, I will discuss Leopard comparing the Camily to a cult, and why she isn’t wrong at all. I will also discuss the nature of cults, how they work, and how the Camily’s behavior can be considered “cultish”. If Cameron or his followers are reading this and feel offended, please pm me. These are all my words and not Leopard’s. If they feel the need to harass anyone who posts or shares this talk to me first.

Edit: Some of the events aren’t in chronological order, I will fix them as soon as I can

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Alright, so once again, this is the most recent post I could find vague blogging about me on her tumblr in regards to this specific issue so I don’t know where all the “Wow! heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon DID THAT?!” Anons are coming from here, or how those anons are aware that you even tried to submit me something, unless you’re just sending them to yourself to try and stir more trouble but just ....

Leanne, Leanne, Leanna Leanne.... I feel as though I must para-quote Gene Wilder’s character in Young Frankenstein here because just what is the matter with you? Like do you not understand the concept of hyperbole at all? Don’t you know a joke when you read one?

The entire reason I screenshot that ask this way was to show case the fact that color and formatting of the ‘t”,  on what I didn’t know happened to be goth day just happened to match both the obnoxious eye sore color palette and theme of your tacky little blog, Princess. 

The whole coincidence gave me the willies, so I was just making a funny, honey.

Although, apparently, you can’t comprehend my humor or my kindness because now isn’t that part of what got you into this mess in the first place?

“Luna” is for long time mutuals only. Don’t pretend like we’ve ever spoken more than twice, and don’t pretend like you ever gave a damn about my well being when you can’t even get my disability right. My correct name and minority status is written all over my blog.  And to think you’re the one who bitched and complained to me about being called “Honey”.

I only found this on your blog because I have no way of responding to your original Submission even if I wanted to now because Tumblr seems to have eaten it (which, to that I say good riddance) and the only reason I found your Twitter is because it’s exactly the same as your gmail address due to the fact that you’re that basic. There wasn’t anything “random” about it.

“I would never send hate for no fucking reason...” Ah, but by that logic you would dish back hate to someone if you had a reason. So why would you like, concern troll me and chastise me for hate trolling someone when they gave me a reason?!

“And then to say that you that I would hack into your account? WHY??????? Why would I do that? I dont even know HOW to do that! YOU ARE TEARING MY HEART EMOJI APART LUNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Again, honey, please calm down and teach yourself how to form a coherent sentence, learn the concept of what a hyperbolic joke is, leave your fandom(s) and get a freaking life.

I thought you were my friend too until the night you pulled that shit with me, respect that I blocked you and frick off.

And for the love of God, stop “joking” about writing smutty fanfics between you and Al and getting “married” to him and delete all of Angel’s pictures from your blog why don’t you!

Your obsession with all of us is beyond unhealthy.

“I know that you have reason to listen or believe me...” Honey, I know that when you were typing this your little crocodile tears were hitting the keyboard so hard that you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence and you need to shut the fuck up. (Also SIDE NOTE of how Cletus and Striker are like, the worst Helluva Boss characters to have “taste” in: Some sleazy little man baby and an ever only slightly cooler and more tolerable Wild West Reincarnation of Toffee, I should have known you were like this. Oh and that Vampire Chick from RE7 everyone including yourself is into right now is like if Eclipsa was a freaking Fairly Odd Parents Pixie and Meteora would have her daughters for a snack, both figuratively and literally. Die Angry About it.)   

I had two whole interactions with you and I wanted to beat that bunny fursona of yours down with a tree branch Lilo and Stitch style the second you hopped into my ask box that night and 4 days later you gave me an excuse to. I only found out about the shit that you were putting my friends through when Orn started vague blogging to me about what you were doing to them after I exposed you as a snake in the grass arse little bitch and they had no reason to try and White Knight you.

In starlatte27’s case she was just tagged to help attack me by the same stalker that you were going out of your way to defend and latte blocked me before I could even so much as figure out who she was, meaning we didn’t even have an “altercation”, her existence to me personally at that point was merely a blip that served to cause me more disorientation and stress, but I knew she was just as much of a bitch as you were before my friends did and now you’re both causing them immeasurable harm in comparison to what I was put through and you both need to delete your blogs after you apologize. NOBODY WANTS YOU TWO IN THIS FANDOM!

I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in reading you reiterate your excuses for your racism and gross mistreatment towards my friends to me, nor do I care for your off putting arse attempting to have some sort of petty, infantilizing, paternalistic, para-social relationship with me!

Angel and Al, may I add, haven’t been online in weeks because of you and starlatte27, and now you’re only trying to get to me because I’ve still been available online and you’ve been bored. And if I had the capability and privilege of doing anything other than sitting, I can tell you that I certainly wouldn’t be in front of a computer right now if I actually even had the option not to be ether.

And for your information, being able to meet Angel and Al, at least out of all this mess in the first place, has been the only good experience that I’ve had within in this fandom thus far and their presence on my dashboard only makes my day brighter, I willingly shared my experiences with them to let know they’re not alone in all this shit.  

Stop being a sleaze to Angel just because he’s more attractive than you and clearly not white passing, and delete all his photos from your blog.

Stop being a skeeve to Al and stop making “jokes” about marrying him and your jokes about smut because that’s actually beyond the conception of “cringe”.

Stop infantalizing me and acting as though you have some weird parental para-social relationship over me or some shit when I’m freaking three years older than you are, apologize to all three of us before deleting your accounts and dropping off the internet why don’t you and then leave all three of us the fuck alone!!! 

I can tell how the little twit whom said this to me the other day has certainly never met you.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

From a wonderful anon:

could i request maybe one where dark has a super huge crush on the reader and basically everyone knows except for them?? and maybe the reader confesses and is all nervous and doesn’t think he likes them back?? and dark getting all flustered and happy?????

-

Your wish is my command, lovely anon! :D

And to add to it, I’m going super cheesy. Coffee shop who? The deli is the place to be! Fall in love while making sandwiches! I mean, think about it! It takes longer to make a toasted sandwich than it does to make a coffee! More time to talk over a few weeks, right?

Word Count: 1,553

(So it had to be put into a new post so I could stick it under a read-more xD)

-

Near the building the Egos rented for their work, there was a small deli. It was locally run and was never too busy. The Egos and non-egos that worked there were likely the reason it kept afloat. Not a soul had a bad thing to say about the place. Dark suspected it used to be a house and was renovated over time. It would make sense, given the ‘snug but spacious’ vibe the main sitting area had. It was a good place to host smaller meetings when he needed a break from the monotonous office atmosphere. But there was another reason why he never really refused an offer to walk over.

You.

You’d recently joined the staff on a part-time basis. It was a good chance for you to learn how best to interact with customers and practice the skill of sandwich making without the high demands of somewhere in the centre of the city. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about you that Dark was drawn to. No matter what was going on, you always had a smile and some simple, polite conversation ready while you made his order. It was a few minutes of peace before Dark had to return to the chaos of the offices and studios.

On this day, Wilford was rather energetic, playfully nudging the entity as they placed their order and paid. They were staying to have a chance to talk about plans for an investigation of some supernatural entity hidden in the river. Dark, as usual, thought it was ridiculous and was trying to shoot it down, but Wilford was having none of it.

“Hey hey look. There they are,” he whispered with a grin as he nodded toward the counter. Dark’s eyes briefly darted in the same direction, and there you were. Your back was to the pair as you prepared coffee for someone standing at the till. It was too much of a risk, and Dark quickly turned back to his own cup before the faint warmth on his face spread beyond his control. This was enough to make Wilford sigh.

“Listen. I know I said ya gotta open up a bit an’ try datin’, but this is embarrassin’. They think ya hate ‘em.”  The reporter rested his head on one hand as he idly stirred his iced tea.

“It’s better this way. I can’t risk anything.” Dark intended to leave it at that, but Wilford was stubborn.

“What’s that ‘sposed ta mean? Yer always parrotin’ off that bullshit ‘bout ‘not being human’ an’ ‘wah wah I’m an emotionless heartless monster’ -”

“Wilford -”

“- but here ya are, gettin’ all rosy over th’ sight of ‘em! This is love, my dear VHS! Ya gotta give this a chance, an’ ya can’t do that hidin’ over here hopin’ they’ll quit an’ leave one day.” Dark was about to object, but was quickly cut off by Wilford adding, “An’ don’t try denyin’ it. I can tell. Yer all calm an’ happy when ya come back from here. Then ya try ta quickly shake it off ya like got snow in yer hair!” By this point, Dark was seething. The constant belittling and mocking was only serving to push his buttons in the wrong way.

“Then what do you suggest I do? Emotions aren’t exactly my forte.”

“Talk to ‘em. That’s all. Nothin’ else.” Wilford looked sympathetic, which was a miracle in itself. “An’ ya forgot ta order yer lunch, so chop chop!”

-

After the little confrontation with Wilford, going to the counter was surprisingly more daunting than usual.

The moment Dark was spotted, the older lady who had been making sandwiches told you that she was going to the bathroom and needed you to cover her spot. As you moved to the counter, you missed the knowing smile she threw to a rather nervous Dark. Of course, you didn’t see the nerves in the entity posture. What you did see was this mysterious figure, impeccably dressed as always, giving you a ‘look’ you couldn’t distinguish. You two seemed to get along when chatting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he hated you. As much as it stressed you out, you bottled your feelings and focused on taking his order.

“I apologise. My friend informed me I neglected to order any food. Would I be able to get -” You interrupted him by rattling off his usual order with a slightly mischievous tone. He looked taken aback, and you wondered if you crossed a line, only for his expression to soften to reveal a faint hint of a smile. “Am I really that predictable?”

So far, so good.

You smiled as you started making the order. It was one of the popular ones on the menu, but with one minor tweak. You always made sure to add a little extra of that. He never complained, so you assumed it wasn’t a problem. As usual, you asked how work was, what he and the other man were doing here. 

“It is both work and a break,” Dark explained, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Wilford’s face lit up and he gave two thumbs up once he noticed Dark looking in his direction. “Apparently, I looked like someone who hadn’t taken a break in ‘four days’.” When you stalled your work to ask if that was the case, Dark shook his head with a chuckle. “No, I simply look tired all the time. A common misconception.” You couldn’t help but notice that he did look exhausted. You had always assumed it was the stress of the job, but maybe he had sleeping problems, or a lack of a social outlet? That can be exhausting when your life revolves around work. Luckily, before you could dwell on it too long, you had to put the sandwich into the oven to heat it up. “But, if you forgive me for asking, how have you been?”

A simple diversion is enough for you to talk a little about your own world once you walk to the till to charge him for this order. You couldn’t help but notice how intently he focused on you. His expression shifted in reaction to some points you made. Neither of you seemed to notice how no new customers had arrived in the entire time this conversation took place. Instead, the conversation flowed naturally between you both. In fact, the only true interruption was the faint ‘beep’ of the oven timer. 

You arrange the sandwich on the dish, with a side of chips and salad. There was a hesitation, a near reluctance to finish the job. It was only Dark calling your name that snapped you back to the moment.

“Is everything alright?” His face seemed neutral, but you would swear there was a trace of worry in his voice. You didn’t answer at first, opting to key in the bill and get the money. However, when you handed the receipt and change, you slipped a small note in as well. You had hoped everything would be pocketed to discover later, but Dark had noticed the addition immediately.

“I think you gave me -” He froze as he read what was written on it:

-

Dark,

I know we only know each other through my work. If you’re free, I’d like to buy you a coffee. But not in my work. That would be embarrassing. Anyway here’s my number.

-

He was silent for several moments, and it was enough time to contemplate how best to sink into the floor and disappear forever, but his voice broke the silence.

“You… want to have coffee… With me?” Dark almost seemed confused. You nodded. “As… Friends?” A question you had hoped wouldn’t be asked, but you had to address it. With a resigned sigh, you shake your head and admit that you would rather it be a date. Before you could decide what to do, you heard a sigh of relief.

“I was sure you didn’t care for someone like me.” What a confusing statement for the entity to say, and you express that. “No, you don’t understand. I’m used to being - how would you say - disliked. The man I entered with today…” He trailed off as he noticed Wilford had disappeared. Typical. “Well, he’s the only person I’ve considered a friend, until I met you. Given my personal record I didn’t want to run the risk of losing someone I considered a friend, let alone… Someone I’m romantically interested in.” Now it was your turn to let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He had an expression unlike anything you had seen - a bright smile. It made your heart flutter, and you almost missed Dark reach forward to take a pen. In moments, the receipt was handed back to you, with a number written in pen at the bottom.

“I should be finished around five. Mayhaps we could try and arrange something?”

“Hey, Dark! C’mon! I can’t keep these people out here all day!” Without a chance to say goodbye, Dark was dragged out by a grinning Wilford. 

A moment later, Wilford popped back into the deli and lifted Dark’s plate with a wink.

“He still needs that lunch. Toodles, an’ I told ya it’d work out okay~” A blink, and Wilford was gone.

[flaming-potato-arson]

Possible 2020 Revival???

I’m here right now and I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m here right now, right now with you..oh wow..oh wow...

Last time I was on this Hellsite, I was roughly 13-14. Definitely gave it up before my freshman year of high school. I’m graduating class of 22, so hopefully I will be receiving a “normal” graduation and jazz, but I’ve been seriously struggling with not physically going to school and having expectations about my school work. I understand the material just fine, but have poor time management skills and struggle to actually work when I need to. I pull away when things get hard, and let myself get overwhelmed, and long story short I’m behind and not sure if my teachers will let me make things up. I’d just send the stuff in over the summer, but still. I need to be better, and have a small space to manage. 

Here’s where re-inserting myself into Tumblr comes in.

Tumblr is not super big, like “I make one post and everyone can find out everything about me��� kind of big. Of course, it’s still well populated, and there’s a ton of my older stuff in here, but I can move with relative autonomy and still feel comfortable about what I’m doing. Back when I was younger, I was very nervous to give out any information, and while I’m obviously not going to put out my Social Security or anything too identifying, I’m pretty interested about letting people know more about me and myself. Basically, try not to pull away from literally harmless interest in me. That said, I will block anyone I find scary. Sorry, I’m basically a shy toddler hiding behind a very ambitious, extroverted teenage business women. 

So, a few facts about me, and the things you might find on this blog:

.

-I am pansexual and prefer it over bisexual. Not to throw shade at bisexuals, I just like pansexual better.

-I really really really like girls. They’re so pretty. Girls are just goddesses. 

-I was born female and have no problem with that identity. However, I don’t feel that gender or sex determine anything about a person, and don’t feel very attached to a gender identity. However, I also understand other people feel the need for an identity, and I do think everyone is entitled to express themselves whatever way they see fit, as long as they aren’t actively harming other people. You can address me with any pronouns or titles, and while I’ll usually tell you I’m female, I have no problem being addressed as male or in a gender neutral way. I think I could be considered agender, but I don’t know enough about the community and don’t want to mis-represent it.

 TLDR: Born female, accepts all pronouns.

-I like writing. I fell out of it for a while, and I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get back into it, but I’m considering practicing here. 

-I play 2 sports, lacrosse and archery, and am considering taking up some form of boxing or martial arts. I really admire a lot of sports and athletes, and want to participate in them, though not professionally. I also have interests in ice skating, ice hockey, pole dancing, aerial fitness, rock climbing, and yoga. 

-I like a lot of fandoms, and ships. Right now, expect things like Klance, Kagehina, BakuDeku, Lumity, Blossick, Diakko, etc. I’m really tired right now, but expect that to expand. 

- My favorite season is fall, my favorite color is purple, and I really like the flavor pomegranate.

-Right now, I’m playing Animal Crossing, New Horizons, and Zelda Breath of the Wild on the Switch.

-I have a lot of small, but manageable health conditions. 

-I really enjoy music, especially smaller bands and “hidden” artists. I like mainstream stuff too, but I’ve always been more into the music than the artists.

-I like a couple of Youtubers, like the Try Guys, Desbug, and Binging with Babish. 

-I’m in theater but struggle a lot with it. I like musical theater and shows, so you might catch some of that here and there. 

I’m going to end the post here, thank you for reading if you did, but I’m going to do this for me and what I enjoy. Feel free to anon me anything, but I think I;m going to go to sleep soon.

[agl03]

hey it’s not very mature of an adult to put a bunch of kids on blast. be the Bigger Person. like we all said, the mute and block button is there for a reason. adults can be in fandom spaces and that’s ok but they need to know how to act around people of other ages in said fandom.

Hi Anon,

Thanks for stopping by, I am seeing your comments  and the comments of others on my posts and will, as you suggested, be blocking everyone shortly.  I do want to give you time to read my response before I do and I will delete any further asks on the subject.  This is a happy time in the fandom where we are minutes to hours to days away from cast pics and 13 days out from hiatus ending.

But a quick welcome to the fandom since those all look like new faces to me.  My followers are welcome to do the same, if you check out the comments on my original ask response towards the bottom you will see who has been harassing other fans “in good fun” on twitter since last night.  And now have decided to come to me about it.

For the record I blocked out all names of those involved and never put anyone else on blast in my responses.  Neither did the person you were “having fun” with.  She never tagged you.  Someone else reblogged it later with the names on it as the comments continued to come in. After I posted my response to the situation. I never reblogged that because I didn’t want to put all those names out there and hoped that this would all just chill out over night.

I totally own that I originally made a venting post that it wasn’t okay to harass someone on Social Media.  Again naming no names or even really indication the situation.  If you are willing to scroll through the abyss of my blog you will see those pop up from time to time when fandom drama or shipping wars start.  From there it was others who come to and sought me out to justify the situation and how they acted.

It’s here that I will ask why other “older” fans reactions to this behavior needs to be a whole let it go they are kids mentality?  Just because you are younger doesn’t excuse hurting someone even if it was “in good fun” (which to be very clear the people you were directing it at were not having fun).  What would you have said to me if I wasn’t an Adult and instead one of your peers saying that wasn’t “just having fun”?  Would you question me then?  Tell me to just chill out and let you have your fun?  Call me names?  Tell me to go home and cry?  Or leave the fandom?

Yes, I am an adult and yes I am a mother in real life and somehow the Unofficial Fandom Mom around here.  I can proudly say my child who is close to that age range mentioned in the ask would never treat anyone like that on Social Media.  Just to be safe I showed her the screenshots of the blacked out names and comments and she said there was nothing fun about that and that is not how friends talk to each other or have fun.  She had more to say as well when she found out it was someone she adores but we’ll keep those comments between us.  

But no matter your age you and you alone are responsible for your own actions towards others.   You knew the person receiving those comments wasn’t “having fun” yet you continued  She and others did block and mute but more and more just kept coming in as new people joined in the “fun” and kept piling on.

I can’t speak for my followers but I do hope that both my older and younger followers feel I treat them all respectfully not matter their ages.  That is just basic human decency.   Heck I usually have no idea how old anyone is on here unless they mention finals or having a kid.  None of that matters to me.  What does matter is that everyone is treated with dignity and respect and we have a good time.

Fandom is a safe place and an escape for so many people, myself included.  I don’t know what I would have done without it over the last few years.  And it was fandom who was always a message away in the hospital last week.  The actions of those last night ruined a safe place for someone who didn’t deserve it.   I’ve had it happen to me before and it sucks.  At the end of Season 4 one of my theories didn’t hit and I was sent the most hate I’ve ever gotten.  Suddenly my happy place was gone and it was devastating.  I had to step back and compose myself  and accept I can only control my own actions, my experience in the fandom, and my response to others.  I for the most part try to do so with dignity and respect at all times, but even I will have my buttons pushed one to many times and snap with comments like Immature.

I was the one who called the repeated harassing comments as an immature action.  I totally own that and I stand by it because it was.  Don’t blame who you were going after on that one.  If I were still 16 I would have called it Immature then too.

You were “playing” with someone who wasn’t into the game.   People were asking you to stop.  And “What we were just having a little fun?” isn’t an okay answer no matter how old you are.  Seriously had that happened in a school environment would a teacher have dismissed it as all in good fun when someone was so upset and hurt?  Had a the tables been turned and it was Adults fans “that should know better” making those comments then I feel there would be an entirely different conversation going on.

I was being bigger person by blacking out those involved and still seriously addressing a question that came into my ask box as I always do.  Again something I do often when addressing fandom drama.  Now via comments you have chosen to reveal yourselves on here.  Not me.  You continued to post on her posts on twitter where anyone could take and post those screen shots.  That someone wasn’t me.  I could post screen shots of your comments on my posts right now, but won’t do that.  I’ll let those who want to check them out do so on their own. 

You aren’t gong to win “It was all in good fun” with me no matter how many of these kinds of asks come in.  

Long post short:

“What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” Jane Goodall