#I probably shouldn't be posting before I have coffee but FUCK IT

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[osaemu]

・𖠗 EMAILS I CAN'T SEND EVENT !

with songs featuring gojo, geto, dazai, chuuya, and childe !

BEFORE YOU LISTEN . . .

careful, there's gonna be some pretty mature themes headin' in . . . sex, cheating, overthinking, y'know, the usual. it's hard being hot !

WHAT'S THE ALBUM ABOUT ?

well, i heard some guys from jujutsu kaisen, bungo stray dogs, and genshin impact are involved in the drama, maybe you know them !

TRACK 9: NONSENSE "baby i'm in too deep, here's a lil' song i wrote, it's about you and me"

꒰ pop star!reader x secret lover!gojo

being a pop star is tough, and maintaining a relationship alongside it is even harder. good thing you have a boyfriend to share the nights with, but what happens when those night-time specials start seeping into your daytime routine?

TRACK 10: FAST TIMES "tiptoeing past so many stages, but what the fuck is patience?"

꒰ coworkers with benefits ft. pm boss!chuuya

being a mafia boss is hard, and the stress that comes with it could kill. so, your boss's solution is to take it out on his pretty little secretary — you. one thing leads to another, and soon it becomes a regular thing. it's okay, it's not like he's gonna fuck you during work hours, right?

TRACK 11: SKINNY DIPPING "if we could take it all off and just exist, and skinny dip in water under the bridge"

꒰ break up –> make up ft. criminal!geto

when you found out he wasn't who he said he was, you dumped him on the spot, and after that you didn't see him for nineteen days. so what happens on the twentieth day when you run into him at your local coffee shop, and how did it end with his dick in your mouth?

TRACK 13: DECODE "you're good at impersonating someone who cares, and you had me for a minute there"

꒰ actor!reader x actor!dazai

your co-star is known for his acting prowess, and maybe he's just a little too good, because even when the lights are down and no cameras in sight, you can never seem to figure out if he means what he says. even when he's drunk in your sheets, every word seems carefully calculated to get something out of you — who knows what he wants?

TRACK 15: FEATHER "your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch, you fit every stereotype, send a pic"

꒰ it girl!reader x fuckboy!gojo

you're everything, and he's just another fuckboy. but even though he's the biggest dickhead you've ever met, you can't deny that he's very, very attractive. so what happens when you have one too many drinks and end up moaning his name all night long?

TRACK 16: LONESOME "did you think about her face with your hands around my waist? did you even give a fuck?"

꒰ exes with benefits ft. fuckboy!childe

you probably shouldn't still sleep with the boy who ruined your life, but hey, he's the only one who knows how to fuck you just right. even if he made you cry for a week straight, you'd rather be crying out his name than wallowing in self-pity at home. and it's not like you're gonna get back together with him, are you?

TRACK 17: THINGS I WISH YOU SAID "i saw you met somebody and i'm jealous as hell, that i can't even stomach loving somebody else"

꒰ cheating ft. ex boyfriend!dazai

maybe it's wrong to cheat on your current boyfriend with your ex, but you never moved on and apparently, neither did he. and shit, he's just as skillful with his words as ever, so just one night wouldn't hurt, right?

SO, WHEN CAN I HEAR THE STORIES ?

well, hannah'll tell you whenever she feels like it, but who knows what order she's whisper them to you in ? it'll be a surprise ~

CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHEN THE STORY'S OUT ?

there's no taglist or anythin', but you can check back here to see if anything's leaked yet ! ++ maybe follow hannah and her tag, 'cause she said she'll post updates there . . . #✧ — emails i can't send

have fun listening! reblogs very appreciated xoxo –> signed, hannah

[unadulteratedkr]

~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

[zegrasdrysdale]

also if your not uber uber busy could YOU PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE write a fic based off of one of these songs (feel free to do all of them my queen but NO PRESSURE) I also don't mind who the fic is with use who ever you feel would go best with it :)

Before you Go - Lewis Capaldi

It's Not Over - Daughtry

Goodbyes - post Malone

Circles - Post Malone

I hate you, I love you - Gnash

Mr Brightside - The Killers

Scars to your beautiful - Alessia Cara

Thank you I might request more but again no pressure

[ it’s not over ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie and his girlfriend broke up right before he was traded to Philly. when Jamie comes back to pack up the rest of his things, she tries to fight for them since she doesn’t believe it’s over for them

warning(s) : angst galore ! a few uses of Y/N

author’s note : giving me free range to write this abt whoever was probably not the best idea, especially when i like writing jamie angst 😈

fic inspired by :

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I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

The NHL season ended without a word from Jamie since the day he got traded to the Flyers in January. Nearly four months passed after he was traded and she never got so much as a text message from her former boyfriend of nearly two years.

They shared a whirlwind of a relationship where they met, said they loved each other, and moved into an Anaheim apartment down the street from Trevor all within a year.

She truly loved him, and she truly messed up before he left for the trip to Nashville that he never came back from.

She knew there were rumors going around Anaheim about Jamie's trade, and Jamie blocked them out every time he heard even a whisper about him getting traded out of Anaheim. He didn't want to hear the reality. When she tried to get him to see that, he walked out the door for the trip after they got into a fight. He packed a bag and spent the night at Trevor's.

Now that the season is over, she expects him to come back to finish packing whatever he didn't grab over the All Star break in February. She couldn't just leave the apartment. She couldn't leave all of the memories behind so easily, especially since she still loves him.

Trevor texts her the day after the season ends and tells her that Jamie is coming in soon to grab the last of his things. Jamie couldn't even let her know that he's coming by. She spends that night curled up in their bed.

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

The following morning, she's up early and thinks about what she can do to fix what's broken between them over a cup of coffee. She has no idea if he's mad at what she said or mad at the fact that he did get traded out of Anaheim.

Maybe she shouldn't have said anything about the trade before it happened. Maybe he wouldn't be about to move out the last few boxes he packed in February if she let him process his future trade on his own.

She fucked up, but maybe she can fix it. It's not over until they both think it's over, and she doesn't think it's over with them. She'll try to do it right this time. She'll be supportive of him instead of trying to get him to see reality. That's where she messed up because Jamie was probably trying to cope with the fact that he wasn't wanted in Anaheim anymore by the team that put their faith in him and drafted him 6th a few years ago.

All she wanted to do was prepare him for the possibility of being traded across the country, and she was met with radio silence since he walked out that door.

He walked out that door with her heart and took it across the country with him. She has to try to fix what's broken. She's not ready to say goodbye to him. She's not ready for him to become a memory or a ghost that haunts her dreams.

The sound of a key in the door grabs her attention immediately. She was leaning on the kitchen island and stands straight up when the door opens. She leaves the cup of coffee on the counter because she is afraid that she's going to drop it when she sees who's walking into the apartment.

She bites her lip so she doesn't say anything when Jamie walks into the apartment for the first time with her there since the fight a bunch of months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago when he walked out the door.

He freezes when he sees her in the kitchen. Their eyes meet and she has to hold back tears.

Jamie looks so much happier and healthier than the last time she saw him in person. The bags under his eyes have gotten lighter. He is practically glowing.

He was working so hard while he was playing for Anaheim because he felt like he had something to prove. He felt like he needed to prove that he belonged here. Philly wanted him so he probably was able to relax.

"Hi," she finally breathes out when the silence gets to be too much for her. "You look, um ... you look good."

"Thanks," he replies, voice quiet. "Are the boxes still in the bedroom?"

She nods quietly and Jamie makes a quick escape down the hallway. She rests her elbows on the counter and puts her face in his hands to hide any emotions that Jamie could see when he comes back out into the living room.

Her throat closes up and tears prick her eyes. She had no idea that seeing him again would cause her to have this reaction. Seeing Jamie will always probably make her have some kind of reaction.

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

When he comes back into the living room, Jamie is carrying one of the six boxes that are left. That's probably the biggest box so he has to carry it by itself. The other boxes are light so they can be carried two or three at a time.

That means she's running out of time to talk to him before he walks out of her life completely.

She walks back to the bedroom where his remaining boxes sit in the corner. She sits on the bed so she can catch him when he walks back into the room. With a quick wipe of her cheeks to dry them, she settles on the mattress with her legs crosses and waits for Jamie to come back.

There are footsteps in the hallway and Jamie appears in the doorway a second later. He pauses mid-step when he sees her sitting on the bed they used to share.

"Can we talk?" she asks as her entire body shakes with anxiety and nervousness. "Please?"

Jamie walks over to the corner and piles two of the boxes on top of one another. "I don't have time," he tells her as he picks up the pair of boxes. "Trevor is waiting for me outside to take me and my stuff to the airport for my flight to Toronto."

She frowns as he walks out the door with his things, but she quickly throws on a pair of slides and follows him. "Jamie, please," she begs. "I don't want to let you leave without saying what I have to say. I don't want you to get on that flight without talking to me first."

He gets on the elevator and she jumps on with him. He presses the button to go to the first floor and the doors shut. "(Y/N)," he sighs. "I can't do this again. I don't want to do this again."

"I want to fight for us, Jamie," she says anyway as the elevator keeps descending to the first floor. "I'm not letting you just walk away so easily again. It was a mistake the first time letting you walk away. Especially because you didn't come back."

The doors open and Jamie walks out. She follows him out the front door. Trevor's car sits next to the curb, and he leans against it. "There is a reason I didn't come back," he comments as he throws the boxes in the trunk of the car. Then he looks at her. "I was traded, remember? I bet you do because you kept reminding me that I was going to be traded."

His words cause her to freeze as he walks away. She looks at Trevor, who just points in Jamie's direction. "Go," he tells her. "He's just being hard to get."

She runs after him as he approaches the elevator. The doors open and she once again joins him in the small room.

"I should've been a good girlfriend and be there for you to help you cope with the possibility of being traded," she says to Jamie. "I shouldn't have kept telling you to face reality. I didn't understand how you were feeling, but I do now. I wasn't there for you and was making it harder for you. I'm sorry."

The two walk back into the privacy of their apartment because it's still technically Jamie's apartment too. Once the door shuts, Jamie spins and faces her.

"You made it seem like you were excited to move to wherever it was I got traded to," Jamie snaps. "Meanwhile, I was leaving behind the life that I had made for myself over the past four years. I was leaving the best teammates behind, I was leaving my best friends behind. I pushed myself so hard once those rumors started that I hurt myself trying to prove that I belonged here. I hurt myself trying to prove that I had a spot on the Ducks, and they still traded me anyway. There's a reason I didn't want to face that reality and it's because I was leaving everything behind. Then there was you who seemed like you didn't care what you were leaving behind."

"Because I was ready to move across the country to be with you!" she shouts at him. Her voice is strained as she chokes back tears. "I didn't want to leave everything behind, but I was ready to start a life with you wherever you ended up, then you walked out that door and never came back. You ignored every single text and call I made. You never gave me the chance to explain myself, and now here we are."

He walks back into the bedroom to grab the last three boxes. "I didn't want to hear your excuses," he says as she follows him. "I didn't want to listen to how excited you were to start the next chapter of our lives or whatever while I was struggling to walk away from Anaheim. Sorry if I needed a second."

As he stacks the last boxes on top of each other, she says, "I would've given you as much time as you needed, Jamie. All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you ignored me." She pauses as Jamie lifts up the boxes. "If I could do the last few months over again, I would. If I could be there for you then I would. I'd support you through anything. I did support you. I watched every single Flyers game you played in and I had to resist the urge to call you when you got hurt a few weeks after the trade. I had to ask Trevor how you were even though he was hurt too because I wasn't sure if you'd answer and I was worried you'd hurt your shoulder like you did last year. I cheered for every point you got and I loved you from 2,700 miles away while you were ignoring me."

Tears form and fall down her cheeks as she tells Jamie what been happening with her since he left. She's angry, but she loves him so much that she's willing to be angry at him for a second while they talk for the first time in months.

She's willing to be angry at him for this one moment.

Jamie puts the boxes on the ground and looks at her. "You still loved me and supported me even though I was ignoring you?" he asks like he doesn't believe her. She nods and wipes away her own tears while she looks at Jamie. "I didn't know-"

"You wouldn't have known because you refused to talk to me," she interrupts as she rubs her face. "I'm sure you didn't bother asking Z how I was either because he didn't tell me if you did ask."

"I asked him not to tell you."

"What?"

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I did ask how you were doing, but I told Trevor not to tell you I was asking because I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to you yet," Jamie explains. "He didn't tell me that you still loved me and were supporting everything I did in Philly."

"Still love," she corrects. "Still support. I always will because I thought for years that it was going to be the two of us til the end. When you walked through that door a little bit ago, I was getting ready to fight for us. I didn't think it was actually over between us, but you tell me if it's over or if we can start over."

Jamie stays quiet, and the only reason she doesn't immediately tell him to leave is because she can see that he's genuinely thinking about her words.

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

His phone buzzes and he takes it out of the pocket of his shorts. He looks back up at her and says, "I have to-"

"Go?" she interrupts again. "Then go, but know that I'm not done fighting for us and our lives together."

"(Y/N)," Jamie sighs. "I have to go tell Trevor that I'm staying." Her eyes widen. "It's not over between us. I don't want it to ever be over between us, so if you'll let me, I'd like to start over. Redo the last few months or so with you."

All of the tension leaves her body and she nearly falls to the floor. She lets out the biggest sigh of relief, and also the loudest sob that echoes off the walls of the bedroom. She covers her face and cries into her hands.

A pair of arms wrap around her shoulders and she smells Jamie's familiar cologne on his body as it engulfs her. "We'll do it right this time," he assures her. "I promise.

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

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MASTERLIST

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[littleskeletonprincessss]

Here, have this

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

"God, you're so annoying, y/n! You don't have any idea what you're fucking talking about!" Schlatt yelled, walking away from you and into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Mr. I'm-too-busy-to-spend-even-a-second-with-my-girlfriend! It's not my fault you've taken on so much and stretched yourself so thin! You did this to yourself!"

It was the 5th night in a row where Schlatt had to call and tell you he 'had to work late' and 'sorry hon, rain check for dinner tonight'.

"Jesus Christ I am so tired of you nagging me all the time! You're always around, just leave me the fuck alone for once!"

"If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't even be together!"

"There's a bright idea. Nice to know you can have those every once in a while."

"Fuck you, Schlatt! We're done." You yelled, before grabbing your purse and walking out of his house.

Walking into your apartment, you let your purse drop to the floor and flopped onto your couch, leaning your head back, and letting out a loud sigh, releasing all the pent up anger you'd harbored on your angry drive home.

It unfortunately wasn't uncommon for you and Schlatt to get into arguments. They'd usually result in one of you storming out of the house, and either returning later that night to exchange apologies and end with rough, angy make up sex or returning the next day and deciding it'd be best for both of you if you took a break for a while.

This was the fourth time it'd happened, and you were tired of it. You loved Schlatt, you really did. But God was it exhausting to break up and get back together all the time. You knew that this wasn't what it was supposed to be like.

Deciding to call Schlatt in the morning you turned on your TV for the sole purpose of serving as background noise for you to numbly fall asleep to, preparing yourself for what would come in the morning.

-------

When you woke up, you briefly looked around your apartment before remembering the previous night's fight. You'd grown used to waking up in Schlatt's warm arms, his face buried in your neck from behind, so it was almost a strange feeling to be cold and alone.

Looking at the clock it read 10:30. Schlatt would probably be awake, most likely editing again. You pressed the call button on his contact half expecting him not to answer.

"Hey."

"I think we need to talk."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. I can be there in 20."

"See you then."

You left only a few minutes later after running your fingers through your hair and brushing your teeth, making yourself look somewhat presentable, and almost subconsciously walked to the coffee shop down the street, a place that had quickly become of favorite of yours and Schlatt's.

Looking around and not seeing him yet you at a table by the door, watching it and gently scratching your arms as a distraction from the way you were feeling.

Schlatt walked in and after briefly meeting your eyes sat silently across from you. It was obvious how little either of you wanted to be there right now, and it looked like neither of you wanted to speak first.

"Schlatt, we can't keep doing this."

Taking a deep breath, Schlatt muttered a defeated "I know."

"I think we need to break up. For good this time."

He sat silent for a long pause, staring at the fingers he was tapping on table.

"Whatever." he finally said, quickly standing up and leaving the coffee shop without another word or glance your way.

You sat for a bit, letting what had happened sink in. That was it. Wiping away the trapped tears that were making your eyes burn and throat hurt you left as well, walking the opposite way that Schlatt had, to your apartment, heartbroken and alone.

----------

It'd been a week. There were no texts, no calls, nothing exchanged between either of you. Schlatt hadn't posted anything, which surprised you. He had been trying to be more consistent with it. You posted a memory on Instagram and he wasn't among the notifications of likes like he normally would be.

This was foreign. You and Schlatt had started as friends before you'd gotten together the first time. You'd never gone longer than a couple days without any sort of contact, and that was only because he'd had to go back home and had forgotten his phone charger.

Your kitchen counters were littered with pizza boxes, food wrappers, bottles, you hadn't been bothered to cook anything or clean anything up. You could stand for a shower, shown evident by the greasy knot on top of your head and the thin layer of grime that had settled on your skin. Snotty and tear soaked tissues blanketed your living room floor. You were sinking and there was no one that could pull you up.

"I'm so pathetic" you whispered to yourself, looking at your smelly clothes and dirty surroundings. "I can't just sit here anymore." you resolved, standing up before moving to the bathroom to shower and start putting your life back in order.

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

A few hours later you were tying the last garbage bag, your apartment, and you, looking leagues better than they had earlier..

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from cleaning. You hadn't ordered anything and your neighbors weren't usually the kind to stop by for anything.

Opening the door you were surprised by what you saw.

"Schlatt?"

There he stood, nearly filling your door frame with his large frame. He was unshaven, and his outfit looked about how yours had this morning, wrinkly and disheveled. But what surprised you was that he was crying. In all the time you'd known him, as a friend or a boyfriend, you'd never seen Schlatt cry.

But here he was, on your door step, big brown eyes watery with unshed tears, his nose running and red.

"Y/n" he choked out, voice rough from a combination of unuse and sobs.

Before you could say or do anything, Schlatt reached out and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.

"I'm so so sorry for how I was treating you recently. You were right, I'd been spending too much time away from you. But I'm gonna get better." He blubbered.

"Schlatt--" you started, before he cut you off.

"I am. I'm going to be so much better for you. I know I don't deserve you, Y/n, I know you deserve someone who's so much better than me, but I'm gonna be better for you. I love you so much, angel. I know, we've had our issues, and i've said things in the past, but none of it is true. You're it. You're it for me. I need you in my life, Y/n. This last week has been hell without you. God I can't even begin to explain how I felt in the coffee shop when you said we were done for good. My whole world came tumbling down. It hurt so, so much. And I know it hurt you too and i'm sorry that I pushed you to do that. Please, give me one more chance. Please."

He looked into your eyes after that speech, trying to find your response before you said it.

Letting out a small sigh you pulled him down into another hug, clearing your throat from the new wash of tears that came over you.

"I love you, Schlatt."

You could feel Schlatt let out a breath you knew he'd been holding before he held you even tighter than before, if it was possible.

"I love you. So much."

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for May 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Ocean Wave Blues by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt [M, 49k, Louis/Harry]

After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas.

With the help of his alpha-quartermaster Niall, he manages to keep his secondary gender hidden from everyone except his most trusted crew, as he operates under his late Alpha’s name. Captain Payne.

Everything changes when his ship is taken hostage by Pirate Captain Louis.

To keep his crew, and himself, alive, Harry must play the part of dutiful Omega who’s waiting for his Alpha’s return.

＊ You Put the Boom Boom Into My Heart by @kingsofeverything [T, 5k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's been trying all summer to come up with a way to show Louis how much he means to him before he leaves for college.

Or five times Harry fails to win Wham! tickets and one time he succeeds.

＊ Into the Woods by @kingsofeverything [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Whenever he hikes, Harry keeps an eye out for trees with knots and scars that resemble buttholes. What started as fodder for his silly little Instagram account has become his favorite way to masturbate.

＊ A Book in the Ruins by magpielivingforglitter / @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome [M, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Harry randomly meets Louis, they eat food and read poetry, and it’s the zombie apocalypse.

＊ now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie [T, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.

This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

＊ just a couple of my cravings by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [G, 3k, Harry/Louis]

Summer's just around the corner and Louis' battling his addictions... Cigarettes and Harry Styles.

＊ better latte than never by @disgruntledkittenface [M, 1k, Zayn/Harry]

Harry was looking forward to the coffee cart at work. Until the subject of the previous night's fantasies lined up next to him.

＊ I Like to Watch by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 9k, Louis/Harry, Louis/Zayn]

If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.

＊ Hope by @hellolovers13 [T, 2k, no pairing, Louis, Harry]

A father's desperate journey against time.

＊ On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13 [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Harry Styles: a day in the life

☑ Stuck in a dress ☑ Abandoned by his best friend ☑ Date with hot neighbour

All in all, not the worst day ever

＊ the very last drops of an ink pen by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 47k, Louis/Harry]

The spoon made a hissing sound on the rim of his cup before he put it on his napkin. Sharp eyes met Harry’s over the table and Louis said, “So, we have a lot to talk about then.”

“How do you mean?” Harry blew on the foam at the top of his latte and let the heat of it warm his hands. Anxious energy curled down his arms as he waited for Louis to speak.

“Well, what are we doing about the business?” Louis picked up his mug and with his mouth against the lip of it, added, “Or are you going to leave that too?”

Against his will, his cheeks flushed in annoyance and Harry snapped, “Of course I fucking won’t.”

Or just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.

＊ don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux [E, 83k, Louis/Harry]

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.

As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.

Louis is a boy. He knows he is.

or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

＊ Pacify Her by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's anxiety is acting up. Louis has the only thing that will soothe her.

OR Louis' pussy is the ultimate pacifier.

＊ this brokenness inside me might start healing by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [T, 29k, Louis/Harry]

Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do.

But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for.

“I remember when you were a teenager," Miss Susan says, "telling me all the things you wanted to accomplish, the places you wanted to go. And I’ve seen a lot of kids, with a lot of big dreams – but you were different. You had this… quiet energy, this determined certainty. When you told me all you were going to do, I believed you.” She smiles, spreading her arms. “And now here you are.”

Here he is indeed, Louis thinks bitterly. Back where he started. His dreams on pause, his future uncertain. His whole identity built out of secrets and half-truths, while everyone thinks they know exactly who he is.

He left to find himself, he came home to find himself, and yet – here he is, feeling more lost than ever before.

＊ Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [T, 26k, Harry/Louis]

Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

＊ warmth within your arms by @hsburnr [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

when it's get too much to bear and nothing makes sense, harry seeks comfort from louis.

one shot, hurt/comfort au.

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Dystopian Fic Fest / @1ddystopianfest / masterpost

“Telling a story in a futuristic world gives you this freedom to explore things that bother you in contemporary times.” ~ Suzanne Collins

- Podfics -

＊ [podfic] Season 3, Episode 4: Timeless [a fic by babyhoneyhslt] by podfic_pals / @podfic-pals [G, Louis/Harry]

After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.

Based on Taylor Swift's Timeless.

[littledata]

I know you’re probably working on those prompts, but I, too, just ended up on North Sea tiktok, and if you have time, I’m curious what Ava’s reaction to that particular algorithmic destination would be. Because like, Bea’s the most capable person ever, but those waves are Very Big, and why isn’t everyone tethered to the boat at all times??

(From the on that dizzy edge universe. An example video if anyone would like context.)

For a long time, Ava's TikTok experience was predictable. It mostly went: hot girl biting her lip, hot girl playing guitar, hot dude baking a cake, weirdly mesmerising crafting video, drama about people she'd never met, hot person kissing another hot person.

The number of straight-up thirst traps has been on the decline recently though - mostly because Ava just has to turn her head and Bea will be changing her shirt or using a hammer or standing perfectly still, all of which is a lot hotter than any video she's ever seen. In its infinite wisdom though, The Algorithm has seen her scrolling past those videos and decided it needs to fill the void with something else.

That thing, apparently, is North Sea TikTok.

They're lying in bed when it happens for the first time. Beatrice had spent the first few weeks after she came home insisting they should try to maintain separate bedrooms, move their relationship along at an orderly and appropriate pace, but she pretty quickly gave in to the allure of spooning and her bedroom defaulted to being both of theirs.

Now, before they go to sleep, they often end up lying side by side while Beatrice reads one of her insane books about lesbian necromancers or whatever and Ava scrolls TikTok or reads fanfiction about hot people falling in love in coffee shops and stuff. It makes her feel mature and settled and safe in a way that's sometimes so exciting she has to take Bea's book out of her hands and make out with her about it.

Anyway, so they're doing that (lying in bed, not making out) when it shows up on her for you page. It starts with the weird, slow sea shanty, then there's the huge waves, and then someone is getting slammed in the face with the fucking ocean.

Ava lets it loop. Then she lets it loop again. Then she taps on the suggested search north sea tiktok and she's presented with a thousand more videos exactly like the first. People falling overboard and huge waves crashing over ships and and and -

"Bea." Ava taps her arm insistently.

Bea looks up from her book without much concern - she doesn't use TikTok but she does submit to being shown Ava's curated favourites. Also, she's wearing glasses and she looks super cute.

No, Ava, don't get distracted.

"Bea," she repeats and holds her phone up to her face.

Beatrice watches with a scrutinising gaze. When the video finishes, she says, "They really shouldn't be filming in those situations, it's distracting them from proper safety precautions."

Ava stares at her. "That's all you have to say? They could have died."

"Possibly," Beatrice agrees. "Once someone falls overboard it's very difficult to recover them, although certainly not impossible. And it depends a lot on the kind of ship. I assume someone wouldn't post a video where someone died though."

Although Beatrice's naivety about what people are willing to post on the internet is adorable, Ava's mind is stuck somewhere in between the words overboard and impossible. Even Beatrice, careful and capable as she is, couldn't keep herself from being swept off her feet by some of those waves. Ava can picture her so vividly, disappearing under the surface.

"You're not making me feel better about this."

"Oh." Beatrice blinks in surprise as if she has only just realised that they aren't having a purely practical discussion. She puts her book carefully down on the nightstand. "I'm not sure what to say. I can't lie to you and pretend it isn't dangerous. Those are cherry-picked clips showing the worst though, it isn't always like that."

Which, yeah, okay, Ava already knew it was dangerous. For all the months that Beatrice is away she lives with the low-level, prickling anxiety that the next call she gets will be telling her Bea is hurt, or worse. It's different seeing it though, seeing how quick it is, how powerful -

"How often are you in the north sea?" she asks, as if that's the only problem with it.

Beatrice winces, "Well, it depends. The contracts I work - " She explains something complicated and lengthy about shipping and demand and the company she works for and Ava thinks she's the most interesting person in the world but this stuff is, also, a little bit boring and she's still pretty busy picturing her girlfriend's imminent death.

She needs to send these videos to Camila. If there's anyone she can rely on to overreact with her, it's Camila.

"Ava," Beatrice says, seeing that she's lost her. She tugs Ava's phone gently from her hands and puts it down next to her book. Then she wraps one arm around Ava's shoulders and the other around her waist and pulls her in close.

Ava has always loved being hugged by Bea, even before they got together - she's strong and solid and lets Ava hold on for as long as she needs to. (Also, she smells fucking amazing, like, all the time).

It wasn't until they started dating that she realised Beatrice had been holding something of herself back though, not letting herself relax entirely whenever they touched. Now, it's as if her whole body sinks into it, like some tension evaporates the moment Ava's arms are around her.

Ava pushes her face into Beatrice's chest and inhales, lets herself hide there in the fabric of her shirt for a moment. It's dark and warm and hard to worry about anything.

"I promise I do everything I possibly can to come home safe to you," Beatrice says into her ear, "I'm sorry I can't give you any more reassurance than that."

"Okay," Ava says, voice muffled against Beatrice's chest. It's not enough but it has to be enough. This is Bea's job, the thing she loves more than anything else, and Ava won't ever touch the sanctity of that. "I'm still going to worry about you."

"I know." Beatrice presses a kiss into her hair and pulls back, "I worry about you too though, when I'm gone."

Ava rolls her eyes, "The most dangerous thing that could happen to me is Lilith finally snapping and turning on everyone she loves."

"So fairly likely then?" Beatrice asks.

Ava snorts, "Like a 90% chance."

They settle themselves to go to sleep, lying down fully and adjusting the pillows and blankets. That's another thing Ava learned recently: Beatrice - her big, tough sailor - likes being the little spoon. She won't admit to that, obviously, but she sighs contentedly whenever Ava wraps her arms around her from behind.

So when Beatrice reaches up to switch the lamp off, Ava does just that, presses herself against Bea's back. She listens to Beatrice's breathing become slow and even, and she clings on.

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

Today's contribution for Disability Pride Month

Obligatory "I don't have this disorder. I'm raising awareness because I'm so fucking sick of women that drink while pregnant bitching about how hard it is being an 'autism mom'". (Autism mom in quotes because a) it's probably not autism and b) the phrase "autism mom" to describe "mom if an autistic kid" is stupid.)

(I'm going to use the term "women" instead of "uterus haver" not to be exclusionary or transphobic. But because I have a severe headache effecting my ability to find words. I am trans-masc. Don't cancel me. I'm not a FART.)

(This is not to demonize people that suffer from alcoholism. Addiction is a very real disability. This is to raise awareness for one of the only known preventable birth defects and hopefully seek help.)

Thank you for the people at @bfpnola discord for checking my post to make sure this doesn't sound eugenics-y.

Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD)

FASD (previously known as fetal alcohol syndrome) is a disability that can range from mild to severe dependant on how much the mother drank while pregnant. It only takes one glass of wine while pregnant to cause this disorder

I already know what the fuck this is. Why are you talking about it?

Because your only know about the severe cases diagnosed as fetal alcohol syndrome. You THINK you know what it is. But the reclassification has only come up in like... 2003? Fetal alcohol syndrome is like... the far end worst severity of FASD. And since the new information of it being a spectrum disorder, estimates have the disorder as high as 5% of the population (and I really think it's higher based on some information I'm about to share).

Fine. So what is this... spectrum disorder?

Very good! So this disorder is HIGHLY misdiagnosed as autism. So all those boomers bitching about "the rates of autism going up?" Yeah they probably caused it. Symptoms include low body weight, facial differences, poor coordination, difficulty maintaining attention, poor memory, poor emotional regulation, slower development, poor reasoning skills, issues with the heart, bones, and kidneys, shorter height, shorter head size,

I have all of those things. How do I know it's FASD and not the autism?

That's kinda the issue. The only real way you can know is ask your mom if there's ANY possibility she's had a drink while she was pregnant. I can't stress this enough IT ONLY TAKES ONE DRINK. For instance I have a lot of those issues, but my mom was so paranoid she wouldn't even dye her hair or drink coffee. Like there's NO WAY.

Like what do I do about it?

Mostly get your accommodations met and raise awareness. Like people are still actively drinking while pregnant because they are still under the pre-2000 belief that just a couple of drinks are okay. It's really not. Not to mention most women don't know they're pregnant until 4-6 weeks in. So they shouldn't be drinking if they're actively trying to have a child. Because that increases the risk.

What the fuck. People are drinking while pregnant? I don't believe you.

Each of these claims are linked.

30.3% of all women reported drinking alcohol at some time during pregnancy, of which 8.3% reported binge drinking (4+ drinks on one occasion)

According to the Center for Disease Control, one in 10 (10.2%) of pregnant women in the United States reports drinking alcohol in the past 30 days.

Despite clear evidence that primary prevention of FASD is possible if prenatal alcohol exposure is avoided, up to 80 % of women drink during pregnancy, many before pregnancy recognition

What? Women are drinking while pregnant? That's fucked up.

This is not to say people with FASD are lesser than.

But all of this "curing autism" when most of this "autism" is caused by a pregnant person's ability to stop fucking drinking for literally 5 minutes. THESE WOMEN THAT ARE DRINKING WHILE PREGNANT ARE THE ONES CAUSING ALL OF THIS GIVING "AUTISM". IF YOU DRANK WHILE PREGNANT. IF THERE'S EVEN A SLIVER OF A CHANCE THAT YOUR DRANK WHILE PREGNANT? ITS PROBABLY NOT AUTISM. ITS PROBABLY THIS DISORDER.

I'm just really fed up with all of these "autism moms" that also make "wine mom" jokes and making light of literal alcoholism bitching about how hard it is to be an "autism mom" because YOU'RE THE PROBLEM. STOP LAUGHING ABOUT YOUR ALCOHOLISM AND PUT THE DAMN GLASS DOWN.

But my parents are literally autistic

So they don't really know the generational effect of FASD because the new knowledge is so new. But since FASD is literally genetic issues caused by alcohol while you're in the womb. It's assumed that it can cause issues that are passed down.

But like this diagnosis is SO NEW that we really don't know much.

-fae

[hermitcraftx]

I agree with your post about hermit fans in regard to things being very popular. I’ve seen more people being angry and annoyed about scarian in the last six months than people celebrating it. Not tagging shipping is shit but it’s better than harassing people. I don’t know what was put in the water but something changed drastically and I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s seen it.

IT'S FUCKING INSANE! This fandom used to be so positive and welcoming and overall way more pleasant than some... other MCYT fandoms, but now??? I can't log on without seeing untagged negative interpretations in the main tags, can't express an opinion without getting anons calling me heterosexual sympathizers and hoping that I die, everyone has turned their back on everything that used to make this fandom really... fun? Like, I don't tag ON MY BLOG, but usually I don't maintag my shipping posts, and if I do, I tag the ship name so people can filter it.... I don't maintag duo names. What the fuck happened to make everyone so- miserable. Anons are probably going to be permanently off for me, too many people comfortable with their opinions and not comfortable with mine and desperately needing to tell me that.

And like- look. I get not liking interpretations. Personally I'm not a fan of the Double Life cheating arc because of how abusive and out of character people made Grian be, and I had to avoid ao3 for a bit because of that and filter the fucking tags. Same thing with found family dynamics. Just because you don't like something doesn't make it "overrated and popular" and just because you don't like something doesn't make it immoral or unethical either!!! People have to make everything a moral standpoint nowadays and it's really exhausting-

But that's a tirade. All over all the confessions blogs there's "scarian is overrated" despite Grian having nearly 10mil subscribers and most of them being on YouTube and considering all the hermits friends or family truthing them. Yes, there is more shipping than before- that's because Hermitcraft season 8 made it very obvious that the people on the SMP and the people IRL are very different, and it's no longer considered RPF. None of the real hermits died via moon explosion, ZombieCleo often says she's doing "lore", they make different skins, even GRIAN acknowledges that he's acting and playing a part with the permit office. Despite all that, there's STILL wars on shipping and people insisting that we're shipping real people, I fought this war on the DSMP side of things and it's SO TIRING.

DND podcast listeners, do you ship the people playing the characters? NO!!!!! Unless you do, in which case, have fun with that. I don't really care about RPF and I filtered the tags for it a long time ago, so maybe they do do that.

Every other day I see "Third life is overrated" "Last life is overrated" (LAST LIFE IS OFTEN THE LEAST FAVORITE SEASON I SEE PEOPLE SAY!), "the life series is overrated" "the cactus ring is fucking stupid" "they left the desert but we didn't" "no, THIS interpretation of scarian is bad and wrong" and like... guys. Guys. Fandom is supposed to be fun. It is not supposed to be a full time job. It is not supposed to be moral or ethical and you shouldn't feel the need to police shit. Jesus Christ, every other month there's a new fad that tumblr users flock to and once it's over everyone goes "EWWW THAT WAS LAME AND OVERRATED AND I NEVER LIKED IT ANYWAY" like.... I promise you cannibalism as an allegory for love is not mainstream you are just on Tumblr.

Like Good God. If it's so bad here go to Twitter. I'm sick of all the complaining and misery and hatred and I miss when things were fun- people are so scared of being cliche that they don't want to write things that they enjoy. Where are the coffee shop aus???? Where are the fun silly things??? Where are the 100k grimdark fics with worldbuilding??? Wheres the 500k fics that aren't even about the same characters anymore but that we love just the same??? Where are the forums and people talking to each other in comments and meeting each other that way??? Where are the roleplay servers?????? What are you all doing??????

People are scared of being judged. They want to do what everyone else is doing. They don't want to be cringe or cliche and every day I see a "cringe culture is dead" post and then someone making fun of another part of fandom, an antithesis to their previous statement. They don't want to be late to things, either. Who cares if Last Life was a couple years ago? Draw the fanart anyway!

I'm scared. Maybe I'm just old, but every post I see I notice that I get maybe a 10th in reblogs of what I do in likes, and I don't even post my art or fics to this site. Every post is like that. More and more people only like posts and they die, unseen, by everyone. More and more people misuse archive of our own's functions, treating it like it has some algorithm, when it doesn't, and it never has and hopefully never will. I see fic reuploads to "gain traction" (not how it works) and people reaching out to find RP partners (breaking TOS) and all sorts of other shit on both sites and it fucking horrifies me. I'm not even that old- I'm eighteen, and I can already tell how fandom has changed for the worst for everyone. Fandom used to be a community. Not consumption.

It's just... sad. Old fandom had PLENTY of fucking problems, and we have problems here too, but at least the positives outweighed the negatives. It's so... mean here, now. Even the happy things are mean-spirited. People treat it as if certain people have invaded this fandom space, spreading horrible opinions and ruining it for everyone, but the truth is is that shipping is always going to be a thing. It's a foundation of fandom- fandom started with housewives in the 1950s writing Star Trek fanfiction. You can never get rid of shipping. You can just interact with what you want to interact with and leave others to mind their own business.

[ashiemochi]

tangerines and oranges - lsk

✠ tangerines and oranges ↳  don't they both taste the same? ➶pairing: ID! Leon S Kennedy x (FEM) Reader ➶genre: angst to fluff ➶Content includes: contemplating suicide, mild mention of sex, super old writing like this shit was written in 2018, some won't make sense and that's okay, might find her/she pronouns instead of you bc my proofreading skills are dogshit <3 ➶WC: 1.9k A/N: short and sweet blurb whilst I work on the smut one!! shouldn't take too long - might post it tomorrow <3

The kettle softly whistled in the background, the sound echoing in the kitchen where you sat. Today was probably one the worst day you had ever gone through. Time itself seemed so slow, stretching ever so widely just to irritate you. It was like nature as a whole was against you just for shits and giggles.  

Even the thought of hiring a hitman to take care of you had crossed your mind; just a quick and silent death. You wouldn’t mind seeing God or burning in Hell if it meant you could leave Earth for a bit. You wondered why you were even breathing in the first place.

You didn’t sign up for this Life thing.  

Your tired eyes blinked lazily at the tiny eight-legged-demon-from-Hell, unfazed as it just used its freaky long legs to walk along the counter. You would’ve screamed bloody murder, packed your bags, ran out of the flat, and burned it down.

But you didn’t.

Tilting your head slightly at it, your dead eyes bore at it.  A question ran through your mind. Was it poisonous, you wondered? 

Finally, your mind seemed to slowly rewind everything that happened today.

Your alarm clock decided to give you the middle finger and not ring like it was supposed to, causing you to miss the train to your job. Your stomach continued making grumbling sounds, incredibly disappointed with the fact that it didn’t get its breakfast nor did you have the money to buy lunch.  

Your clumsy co-worker had tripped over his shoelaces again, causing your papers to get showered with coffee. Your boss almost popped a vein at how the logo you designed looked more like a tangerine than an orange; you didn’t even get the chance to remind him that they both look the same. While printing out a paper, the printer decided to swallow the paper to oblivion with a big fuck you.  

One of your clients was a dick wad of a boomer who has the tendency to remind you each day that technology is killing the environment but then requests another digital painting of his dog.

You lost count of how many times he had requested the same painting of the same dog. Later you learned that he can be forgetful. Hence the constant reminders of how the very evil technology is killing the very innocent generation. 

You had forgotten that you had a presentation today and ended up getting scolded by your uptight boss in front of all of your co-workers. That resulted in extra work and a late-night shift.

You wondered if the clumsy co-worker had cursed you since when you got your cup of coffee, you accidentally hit it, sending it all over your clothes. 

At night, after everyone had left to go to their warm and lovely homes, you had to stay in the office with your boss and his wife.

Even your headphones couldn’t block out the disgusting, lips-smacking, and probably even skin, noises. You could swear that they would repopulate Earth worldwide if they would stop using condoms. 

 

Your sister called you, telling you that your parents aren’t going to be able to attend this year’s Christmas. You had to redesign the logo again and show it to your boss, who was, unfortunately, three inches deep into his wife when you opened the door.

At that moment in your life, you deeply wished that God would bleach out your eyes or miraculously make you blind.  

And God answered your prayer; by making you accidentally set a heavy file on your specs. You cringed visibly at the cracking sound. 

Hoping you’d catch the train before the weather would decide to give you a middle finger; you got caught under the heavy rain that soaked you to the bone, making you look like a street rat.

Curse the weather and its indecisiveness.

By the time you had gotten home, your stomach was beginning to ache for food, almost internally stabbing itself.  

And there you were, sitting on the counter with your damp sweater and messy, wet hair. Blinking once more, the eight-legged monstrosity had vanished. The memory itself of the day made your body’s function slow even more, making you slump slightly.  

Tomorrow was another day and you still had work to do.

Feeling very overwhelmed, your vision blurred with tears behind your cracked specs. Taking in a trembling breath, you brought your hand up to run it through your knotted hair. You winced slightly at a new forming bruise on the back of your head that you had gotten when your head hit the door on your hurried way out of your boss’s office.  

The entire universe was against you at this point.

You let out a shaky sigh, hoping that taking deep breaths would assist you with containing your tears, but even that was failing. Oh, how you wished you could just vanish to the ends of the universe.  

The sound of keys jiggling and the front door opening caused your heart to skip a beat. His deep and loving voice reached your ears in a floating melody.

You wanted to greet him, but feeling your body aching and it might as well be dead; you just sat there on the counter.  

“Y/N, I'm home.” 

The lump in your throat would be a dead giveaway if you even utter a simple letter, but then you heard his footsteps getting closer to the lit kitchen. You barely looked at him when he made his presence known.  

His smile dropped as his eyes scanned you from head to toe.

Your once soft orange-coloured knitted sweater now had a big dark brown stain. Your black skirt had smears and dots of what seemed like a correction pen. Both of your socks were intact and well, but your left sock wasn’t even attached to your inner belt, making it fall and roll beneath your knee while the other was all the way up your thigh.  

Your hair might as well be a birds’ nest and your face was just tired. Not only did that make him worry, but the tears behind your broken specs were now threatening to escape.  

“Y/N?” Leon questioned, getting worried by the second.

You only sniffled, taking a deep breath before letting out a small but tight hi, whilst casting your eyes away. 

His brows furrowed as he walked into the kitchen, making his way to the counter to put the white plastic bag that he was holding. He seemed as if he was quietly waiting for you to speak out but taking notice of how hard you were gripping the edge of the counter to the point your knuckles would resemble the white of the snow, he knew you were holding back.  

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

You could hear the worry oozing from his lips as he moved towards you, trying to take a good look at your face. Your shoulders slightly shrugged as your teeth bit down onto the bottom of your lips, setting your eyes on the kettle.  

You didn’t feel like talking at all, only praying that you would get sniped out of this God-awful day. His hips settled between your legs and your tears were just teasing you at this point when his big hands gently cupped your cheeks, making your eyes meet.  

His azures immediately softened when he saw the broken and exhausted look etched on your face. A frown reached his lips when he noticed the lightening shape of the cracks in your specs and with the tips of his fingers; he gently removed them, giving him a clear look at your eyes.  

You cussed internally when a tear rolled down your cheek, betraying you.

“Honey, did something happen?" Leon asked softly, as if afraid he'd break her, "Why are you crying?”

Your bottom lip trembled as the lump in your throat was getting heavier to swallow. Finally, you looked at him behind the thick walls of your tears and your cheeks flushed red at the close proximity.  

“Today sucked so... Fucking bad...” You uttered weakly, your voice seemed to be tight and squeezed.

Leon blinked at this and you broke down, allowing your tears to run freely down your reddened cheeks. Without even hesitating, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to his embrace. 

Your cries were weak and small but filled and etched with pain as your fingers gripped the back of his blue suit jacket. Ever so slowly, his fingers tangled your hair between them, lightly pushing you closer to him.  

It seemed like an eternity just being in his arms but you felt incredibly safe and invisible to the world. For once, all your bottled-up emotions for this day were poured through your tears. Even when your tears had stopped, only leaving behind a heaving chest with minor hiccups, you still stayed in his embrace.  

“You ready to talk about it?” The richness in his voice made your body almost melt against his warmth.

Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you ever so slightly nodded, letting out a small hum. You stayed like this for a good few seconds before pulling away slightly. 

His blueblue orbs were filled with love as he gave you a gentle smile, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in, pressing a lingering and loving kiss on your forehead.

Suddenly, the kettle began whistling loudly and both of them looked at it. Leon moved away to turn the stove off and he noticed a mug with the chocolate and milk powder jars and a small cup with a teaspoon beside it.   

“Hot chocolate?” He questioned, looking at you from over his shoulders.

You nodded silently, using your sleeves to wipe away the remaining of your tears as you sniffled quietly.

He hummed, opening the cupboard as he asked, “How about you change and I’ll make us hot chocolate?” 

You looked at him, “Aren’t you tired from today’s training?” She asked, already feeling needy.

Leon took out his favourite mug, “Not really,” He shrugged, “And no.”

Leon ended it, sternly before setting his eyes on you, “You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. Never was and never will be.”

It’s like he had read your mind as he returned to the task at hand.

“You had a bad day with your uptight boss, and I’m guessing that coffee stain is by your clumsy co-worker.” 

You looked down at your sweater as if you had just realized it was there before letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Ah, no... It was me this time.” You admitted, softly and he let out a sound of amusement, stirring the hot drink of Heaven as he turned around to look at you.

“Seems like he’s rubbing off on you.”  

“Oh, shut up...” You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless.

His chest rumbled a bit with his chuckle as you jumped down to the ground. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, you gazed up at him with such adoration in your eyes.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” You sighed dreamily and he stared into the distance, pretending to think deeply about your question.  

“Huh, I don’t know, care to remind me?” Leon looked down at you, slightly bumping his nose against yours.

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his grin when you got flustered. Pressing a peck on your lips, Leon gestured to the corridor.

“Go change. I feel like your boss did something incredibly stupid today.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you don’t even know...” 

[chemicalalice]

Fic: My Favorite Mistake - Kinktober Day 1

Title: My Favorite Mistake Summary: Maybe he was the one mistake you would continue to make. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female!Reader Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing. Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only! Word count: 3123 AN: For the prompt 'love bites' for Kinktober 2023. No beta. I haven't posted in like, a year, I'm rusty. I hope this is formatted correctly. I think I have a plan for a second part of this.

Even in a small town, things could change fast. A month ago, this would have been normal, expected. But this wasn't a month ago. This was now. And you didn't know what was going on with Rhett and Maria ever since she got back, ever since he ghosted you, but you were pretty sure that whatever it was, he probably shouldn't have you pressed up against the side of your truck as he fucked you in the parking lot of the bar while Maria sat inside.

You and Maria had never been friends, not in any real sense. In high school you had hung out occasionally, but only because you mixed in the same friend group, despite the fact that you were a year younger. And even then you didn't talk much. During that time, it was painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that Rhett was nursing a massive crush on Maria. You, in turn, kept your own crush on Rhett more hidden. Maria ignored Rhett, and Rhett, for the most part, ignored you.

After her, graduation Maria didn't waste any time leaving Wabang for greener pastures, not giving the place where she grew up a single glance back, and certainly not sparing a single thought for Rhett. As for those she left behind, Rhett threw himself into the rodeo, and you focused on finishing school.

You didn't see Rhett much after that. Occasionally you would cross paths, at a party with a small wave of acknowledgement, or at the feed store with a brief hello as you went about your business. But you didn't talk.

And that was how things went for years. Right up until an unseasonably warm night in September as you stood beside a bonfire in your friend's yard. When Rhett stepped up next to you, you tossed the customary 'hey' in his direction before looking back down at the drama unfolding between your two best friends over a guy in the group chat.

It took you a minute to realize he was still standing there, and when you looked back up, he was staring at you. You watched as one side of his mouth twitched upwards in a small grin at the look of mild bewilderment on your face.

You didn't sleep with him that night; didn't give him the satisfaction of another easy catch. But you did talk, moving easily from one topic to the next until then fire burned down to embers and the rest of your friends started home. You let him have your number. And when he called the next day, you said yes to dinner.

That next night, that was when you slept with him. It has been three years since high school when Rhett first kissed you. And you had thought then and there that it was everything you had ever hoped it would be.

You never asked why he had approached you that night. You were too afraid of his answer. Like a skittish horse, you were afraid that questions and demands would spook him.

It was easy for things to fall into a rhythm with with him. Like clockwork, your phone would light up with his name every Friday night, the knock on your door coming soon after. He would spend the night at your place; it was always at your place. Saturday morning was started with an encore performance, although it was usually slower and more intimate, before he threw back some coffee and disappeared out your door until Friday rolled around again.

Gradually, he started reaching out more; one night a week became two, sometimes even three; texting became more frequent and not just when he was looking to hook up.

You kept your mouth shut. Never asked was was happening, what it meant when he started falling asleep at your place without anything remotely intimate occurring. You told that little bit of your heart that held onto its teenage love for the man to not get excited. Rhett was still Rhett, after all. He had a well known reputation as a love ‘‘em and leave ‘‘em type of cowboy. The fact that he somehow was in your bed every weekend that he wasn’t out in the circuit? Well, you just put that down to him being lazy and you being easy.

That’s all you would allow yourself think.

Sometimes it was easy.

When you happened to be out at the same bar and he barely spared you a glance, it was easy. When you saw that smooth as shit grin he would give the scantily clad girls who would cluster around the back fences after a successful ride, it was easy.

But the other times, like the slow Sunday mornings that were becoming more and more frequent, where he would step up behind you and wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck until the coffee was done brewing; or the way his eyes would instinctively seek yours in the stands after a good ride before breaking out into a massive grin, those times> Those times is was a lot more difficult to bury your quickly growing feelings.

You kept silent. He kept showing up. And Maria? She decided to come home.

You were pretty fucking smart. So when Rhett suddenly stopped showing up at your place, when you calls went answered and your texts were left on 'read', it didn't take much more of a glimpse of Maria at the grocery store to figure it out.

Maria was back. And Rhett was done wasting time with you now that the true object of his affections was available again.

It was ok. You had known things weren't going to last forever with Rhett. Him moving on was an inevitable conclusion. Something you had reminded yourself countless times over.

Still.

The first time you saw the two of them cozied up together at the bar.... it hurt. It hurt far more than you expected. Because no matter how your head tried to warn your heart, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you still went and fell ass over tea kettle for the guy.

And now you got to watch him smile for someone else; watch him leave with another girl.

The hurt felt the strongest for the first couple of weeks. Then the anger came. You had deserved better. It didn't matter that maybe all you had, all you ever would have had, with him was sex, you deserved better than being ghosted by a guy who was at your place more times than not for the past nine months.

You liked the anger a lot better than the hurt, so you held it close, nurtured the small sense of satisfaction as you watched Maria slowly revert back to her haughty high school self. She had licked whatever big city wounds she got and saw herself as the little city queen again.

As your mamma used to say, there was no point in crying over spilt milk. So you left them to it and moved on. Thankfully, there was no shortage of eligible men who were willing to help with that. If you hadn’t been a party girl before, you certainly were leaning into it now. And it was easy to ignore the disapproving frown that seemed to always grace Rhett’s lips when you happened to cross paths.

You told yourself it wasn't revenge when you started spending time with Luke Tillerson, of all people. It couldn't be revenge, not really, because you Rhett was too busy with Maria to even care who you were or were not sleeping with. You ceased to it exit in his mind.

Or so you thought.

Tonight, as you said your goodbyes and laughed off Luke's entreaties for you to stay, it was obvious for you to think it was him when you heard the crunch of gravel under boots behind you as you crossed the parking lot to your truck.

You grinned, not able to suppress the satisfaction you felt in him following you. Your eyes narrowed teasingly as you turned to face him. "Luke I said I am way to tired to-" Your words were cut off as Rhett's lips crashed down against yours, his momentum carrying you back to slam against your truck and out of the weak circle of illumination cast by the single light pole in the parking lot.

His hands fell to your ass, squeezing and kneading roughly, and pulling your skirt up enough that the cold metal of the truck behind you touched the back of your thighs and had you gasping and pulling away,

Shock at Rhett's presence had paralyzed you, but you soon found your strength as you managed to get your arms up between the both of you and shove.

Rhett stumbled back, but didn’t looked surprised.

“Luke, huh? Didn’t think he was your type.” Rhett's voice was bitter, and he crowded back into your space almost instantly, hands falling to your hips and squeezing, pulling you to him. You wanted to shove him away again, and your hands came up again to rest on his chest, but the look in his eyes stopped you. You couldn’t place the emotion held within them. Some strange mix of anger, hurt, and determination.

That look transfixed you, held you frozen in place, and you felt like one of the deer you had seen when he took you out shining that one time.

That look, that told you what was about to happen, that begged you not to stop it. Somewhere, in the back of your head, a voice that sounded a lot like yours was screaming. It was a slow motion car crash. You knew what was going to happen, how it was going to end. And yet, you still told yourself you could control it.

It wasn't ok. It wouldn't be ok. You shouldn't be doing this. You knew that. All those thoughts and a million more raced across your mind in a mere second. And yet?

And yet....

When he leaned down, you didn’t stop him, and as his lips once again touched yours you found your fingers curling in to the fabric of his shirt, clutching for support as you once again fell back against your truck under the force of him. Maybe he was the one mistake you would continue to make.

The kiss was rough, sloppy, and you could taste the beer he had been drinking earlier. He always drank something cheap. You hadn’t drank that much yourself that night, but it didn’t stop your from trying vainly to blame it on the booze as you allowed him to turn you around, listened to the jingle of his belt buckle as it was undone and the rasp of his zipper as it was pulled down; allowed him to press tightly against you and thrust himself up inside of you in one push.

He stilled, momentarily, as he bottomed out. A low groan escaped from him at the same time as you stifled a gasp at the sudden fullness of it. His hands were on your hips again, squeezing, pulling, holding you exactly where he wanted as he bent over you began to move.

It felt good, the feeing of him inside of you after what almost felt like an eternity. You spent the majority of your life not knowing his touch, and you hated that after just a little more than a month without it could feel so good. Like nothing else would ever compare.

You think you hated him at that moment. Hated how he had managed to make you fall in love with him. Hated how easy it was for him to drop you like you were nothing the second Maria showed up. Hated how easily he thought he still had a right to your body. Hated how you let him have it anyway.

He was breathing harshly, practically panting in your ear as he fucked you. He wasn’t being gentle, but you didn’t expect anything different. Being fucked against the side of a truck in a public parking lot wasn't meant for anything else.

You knew he was going to come soon. And you hated that too; how well you knew the little hitch he would get in his breathing as he worked himself closer to his orgasm. You dropped your forehead to rest on the arm you had braced against the truck, and wedged the other down in between your body and the vehicle, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to rub roughly at your clit. You'd be damned if you were going to let him jump you like this without getting to cum too.

It didn’t take long for him to realize what you were doing, and with a little growl his hand slipped from your hip to knock your hand away, his fingers instantly replacing yours. The way his arm wrapped around your body pulled you even closer to him, and somehow, allowed him to sink even deeper into you.

It was impossible to hold in your groan at how good his touch was, always better than your own, and the noise seemed to spur him on. “‘Wanna feel you cum,” he growled, breaking the silence that had existed between you up until then. “‘Wanna fill you up.”

“If you cum before me, I will rip your balls off, Rhett Abbott,” you hissed back, knowing the threat was pointless. You were probably only moments away from you own orgasm now. You knew he would last that long, at the very least. Knew it would probably be your own peak that set him off.

“You always feel so good, sweetheart. Always so fucking good for me,” he was murmuring, lips on your throat, where he knew you were most sensitive, the place where he would always focus his attention when he wanted something, and when you felt teeth gently graze over your the skin there, that was all you needed. You pressed your mouth to your hand, holding back your cry of pleasure as you shook apart in his arms.

He followed seconds after, just as you knew he would. But what you didn’t expect was him biting down on your neck, teeth and mouth and tongue working at the sensitive skin there. He bit almost to the point of pain, and as you felt him spill into you, you knew with surety it was going to leave a mark.

Just when it got to be too much, when you thought you would cry out for him to stop, he let go, head dropping to your shoulder as he sagged against you. His hand slipped up and away from your cunt, but pressed flat against your stomach, holding you to him, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go or let any space come between your bodies.

You allowed, it for a moment; as your breath slowly returned to normal. But as the haze of mind numbing pleasure slowly began to recede, as the realization of what you just allowed to happen settled on your mind, the anger began to creep back in.

You bucked back against him, the movement causing him to slip out of you but not lose his grip where he held you. The wet warmth of him dripping out of felt like regret, and suddenly shame washed through you. The spot on your neck that ached, your scarlet letter.

“What the fuck Rhett!” You hissed, and this time he let you turn to face him in the cage of his arms. You shoved against his chest, but he was prepared this time and barely budged.

He stared down at you, looking lost, almost confused. “I missed you. A lot,” he offered weakly.

You laugh in disbelief. “You missed me? You disappear, stop answers my calls and texts and you say you missed me? It didn’t seem like you missed me when Maria was all over you and had her tongue down your throat in there tonight!”

You shoved against again, and this time he allows you to push him away.

“It’s not…. I can’t…..” His words are stuttering, eyes wide, and it only makes you angrier.

“Rhett, you followed me out here, fucked me, came inside me, and left a mark that tomorrow everyone is going to fucking see. Hopefully no one say you follow me out here! I think I deserve a bit more than you ‘missed me’.”

“You deserve better than Tillerman,” is what he finally manages.

Of fucking course. You saw it coming. But you are still surprised at how much it hurts, and how cheap it makes you feel as his cum grows cold and tacky on your thighs.

“Ah. So this,” you pressed your fingers to the red reddening mark on your neck, wincing as a sharp sting of pain zips through you, “is just you pissing to mark your territory. You don’t want me, not when Maria is suddenly interested, but you don’t want anyone else to either. You got your girl, Rhett. Got the only girl you have wanted since high school. Good for you. I mean, you completely ghosted me like a cheap one night stand, but good for you. Luke’s the only fucking person who doesn’t look at me with pity in this town, thanks to you but I guess a little dignity in moving on from an obvious mistake is too much to ask for. What I think is that I deserve better than you.” You kept your voice steady, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from welling up as you spoke.

Pure devastation is writ large across his face as your words wash over him. And you hate how it hurts you even more.

“It isn’t what I expected," he forces out. "With her. And I saw you, tonight, and I just….I just…” He reaches up and rips the beat up ball cap from his head, smacking it against his leg in frustration as his words fail him again.

You shake your head in pained disbelief. “Fuck you, Rhett. Fuck you. Go back to Maria. You two deserve each other. Just….leave me alone.”

You turned then, pulling open the door to your truck and climbing inside. You slammed the door shut behind you, cutting off his next words; not wanting to hear anything else from the man.

But as you drove away, tires spinning violently in the loose gravel of the lot, you couldn’t help looking back. In the rearview you saw Rhett raise his hands to his head, fingers curling in his hair as he kick at the ground in frustration, watching as your taillights fade from sight.

[mycomicbox]

Random Thoughts on Persona 4 Golden - Part 2

(for context, I'm up to 11/13 and I just rescued [SPOILER])

<<< Part 1

I like how there are a lot of moments where the Investigation Team hangs out together outside of the context of the main story, like the fireworks scene and the concert performance. It really makes them feel like true friends.

Not my favorite fishing minigame in the world, but it's serviceable.

You ever drink coffee so good it knocks you the fuck out?

The Death Social Link may be in my personal running for one of the best Social Links that isn't a party member or side character.

I was honestly kinda blindsided by Mr. Morooka's murder.

They did it. They made a character who's both a bear and a twink.

Mitsuo's dungeon and boss fight were cool as fuck, especially with the 8-bit remix of I'll Face Myself. I'm a sucker for that retro aesthetic.

Since I played Persona 3 Portable immediately before this game, I loved the Tatsumi Port Island field trip. It was really nice to see something familiar. Chihiro shows up and briefly mentions Mitsuru, Club Escapade plays the opening song for Persona 3 FES, and the gang even stays in the hotel where SEES fought one of the boss Shadows. Wonderful.

Speaking of Club Escapade, how did Rise and Yukiko get drunk again? Naoto mentions that the drinks were non-alcoholic, so were they just acting drunk?

...They did Naoto so dirty. That part where she said that she "shouldn't strive to live as a man" gave me the ick. Her dungeon literally has a Transition Surgery Machine, and she continuously wishes that she was born a guy. Like I said in my last post, the story feels like if a queerphobe and a queer person were fighting over who got to write it. It would've been nice if Naoto's arc revolved around accepting that she was transmasc, or better yet, rejecting the concept of gender entirely.

Speaking of Naoto, she's honestly kinda OP. I heard that she was buffed from the original Persona 4.

The Cultural Festival was... holy shit, where do I begin. The whole beauty pageant segment was incredibly awkward (except for the bit where Teddie stole the show, that was pretty based of him), and the hot springs scene was even worse than the one in Persona 3. And don't even get me started on the scene immediately after.

The scene on the night of 11/1 was awesome. The suspense of Nanako's kidnapping was elevated by how likable she is, especially if you finished her Social Link beforehand (which I did). I was also wondering when Dojima would find out about the protagonist's involvement.

It's probably been said many times before, but WE WERE FUCKING ROBBED. As I found out, there were unused voice lines for Yosuke (in both Japanese and English) which imply that he was going to be a romance option, but it was cut in late development. Not only would it have been nice to have an actual bromance in a Persona game, this would've been a great character moment for Yosuke; it would've recontextualized his homophobic remarks as the result of denying his own feelings, fitting perfectly with the game's intended themes.

(Also, happy launch day to Persona 3 Reload. This is a Persona 4 post, but it feels weird not to acknowledge it.)

[riyariyariya]

angst drabble I didn't feel like refining and wrote in 15 minutes so I'm posting it here:

he sure moves on quick.

you're listlessly swirling the straw in your coffee as you stare across the coffee shop. this is the floor where chatter is allowed. you're here because you need to get work done, you need to drown out your thoughts, get away from all the sensations and dizzying thoughts—and of course, of fucking course, he had to be here.

you should've known. this is the best place to go on campus when you can't seem to focus in your dorm, everyone knows this. so you really shouldn't be surprised when you see leehan twirling his pretty finger against the girl sitting across from him. he has that gorgeous smile on his face, looking at her intently and giving his full attention. his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm like she's giving him the most interesting presentation in the world.

and it breaks your heart.

you and leehan were never official, persay. but it was real enough for you. the two of you hung out alone, sharing intimate moments under the dark of night, but never truly knowing one another. he was an expert in swiftly changing topics, always catching you off guard before you could ask, "what are we?"

you constantly ask yourself—was it that you came off too desperate or was he just not attracted to you in the first place?

it was the farthest you've ever gotten romantically with a guy, if that's what you could even call it. you curse yourself for letting yourself think you were special for a moment. it's guys like him that you should have been the most wary about, the ones who are charming but never sure what they want. your spunky younger self would have never let you fall that deep, in fact, she's probably be ridiculing you by now, but in your current years you have been beaten down and worn by life itself and ... well, you were quickly addicted to the validation. the feeling that you were wanted, that he cared for just a moment. even if it was just a game to him.

your hand comes to a stop, looking down at your scribbled notes in a mix of shame and frustration. you can't believe you let yourself be toyed with. you feel your eyes become bleary but you refuse to let yourself cry in public, especially if he could potentially see.

the last couple days have been rough for you especially. your upcoming exams were one stressful thing, but the rejection was even more painful. you kept spinning in circles in your own head with self doubt and uncertainty, because are you even allowed to feel sad if you two were never actually dating? the whole thing was stupid. stupid, stupid. you end up drawing little spirals on the border of your notebook while you were lost in your own head.

and maybe you were a masochist, because you still kept glancing up at the two. very brief glances, here and there. you wonder if he was cruel enough to have done this to you on purpose, but the residual softness in your heart tells you he'd never do that. it seems you still believe in him. it hurts the most to know you still care while he's already found a new toy to play with.

from how she's dressed and her mannerisms, she really was gorgeous. she had an air of elegance about her that you were sure you lacked, her clothes were well kept and nails nicely manicured. you're sitting there in your worn hoodie and chipped nail polish, bitten down to the base because you can't control your nervous tendencies. it was extremely hard not to compare yourself. if that type was what he wanted from you, you never had a chance to begin with.

you quickly feel heat crawling up your neck, overwhelmed with everything running through your head. what did he really like you for? was everything that he said to you a lie? complimenting you even on your worst days, cheering you up when you were down—was that all a joke to him? surely he didn't think all the times he had intertwined his fingers with yours and telling you how pretty you were was just platonic.

you should have never confessed.

you poured your heart out in front of him and all he could do was give you a pitying hand on your shoulder and finding every casual way to say "no, sorry" without actually saying it. you smiled of course, saying it's not a big deal—you're happy to be friends. the only thing is he stopped talking to you entirely. the vitriol bubbles up in you. maybe he thought you were going to be a liability in his seduction games.

that would've been a fitting end. he keeps messing around and breaking other girls hearts and you become a passing thought of once was. but you see how he looks at this girl and the thought suddenly hits you ... that he looks enamored. he won't be continuing his games after her.

it suddenly hits you—you realize that you were just a stepping stone, really. you were never the end goal, just a passing sign on a long road. you want to laugh but you're sure the people around you would be weirded out. of course. you've always been temporary to people, so what's one more?

that's what you get for wanting. for having hope.

you can't take it anymore. you hastily shove your notebooks and pens into your bag, which you find are more worn and messy than you remember it being this morning, and get ready to leave.

temporary, temporary. you were always so fleeting in people's lives. having accomplished nothing in particular with no notable quirks or talents, you passed by everyone like a ghost, forgettable in every sense of the word. leehan made you feel seen and special in those brief moments spent together. it was so addicting, refreshing as the first real taste of romance, that you were blinded by what was happening right in front of you.

and you only had yourself to blame.

[lenaboskow]

so i debated reblogging this, but no one else has said this, and i think it needs to be said.

yeah, he is a douchebag. yes, he can call the date quits, but the way he went about it and the way he acted before it happened was the wrong way to go about it.

he knew buck wasn't ready to come out to his best friend and the rest of his team yet, knew they chose an out of the way place specifically to avoid running into someone they knew while still being able to be out in public (though the more i think about it, the more i wonder how much say buck got in the place), made a closet joke in front of said best friend (which could've outed him if eddie was more perceptive). he knew going into the date that this was new for buck. if he didn't want the possibility of having to hide they were on a date, he shouldn't have agreed once he knew buck wasn't comfortable being out to his friends. and if he realized it halfway through the date (which yes, that's valid too), he should've been nicer about it. especially within eye sight and hearing distance of buck's best friend.

what he said when they got coffee about him not ending it because he behaved badly, but because he wasn't ready, that doesn't sit right with me. i know they had the "i don't want to come out yet" conversation before the date. if not in detail, at least when they were picking the spot. i know this because of the way tommy said "nobody's watching us". the man knew.

look. i don't know if you've ever been in a place where you feel like you have to hide who you are, even if it's just while you figure your shit out, but i know if i were out on a date, and my best friend walked in before i was out to them, when they have no reason to be on that side of town, i'd freak the fuck out too, and probably overcompensate. the only difference is i'm not in love with my best friend, and they're more perceptive so i probably would've outed myself, if my date didn't make a closet joke to do it for me.

also, tommy knows how hard it is to accept yourself after so many years. he's been through it himself. admitted it on the date. he had no reason to act the way he did. at the very least, he could've made sure buck had a ride. could've explained a little more, saying something like "i know you're not ready to come out, but you're less ready than i thought you were, and i don't think it's about you coming out, so take a few days and sit on it." but no, he called an uber, didn't tell buck till it arrived, and left him on the curb, stranded.

another thing i don't think has been mentioned, imagine how it would've looked to eddie if he looked out the window and saw buck standing alone on the curb. i rewatched the scene, he's definitely in line of the windows.

just saying, when you look at all the facts, it seems like a pretty shitty thing to do. and before anyone comes at me and says i only want buddie, that's not true. this isn't about being a monoshipper or anything (because i'm not), i just think we as a community just need to have some fucking standards when it comes to representation, for once. there are so many other characters we could've had or created that would be less problematic than tommy kinard that could help buck realize his sexuality, but for some reason they chose to bring back the man that clearly hasn't learned his lesson from icing out hen and chimney when they first started.

now, if you want to come back and tell me that tommy has learned his lesson, read my pinned post first before you start dropping reasons because it goes more in depth about why the man has not. i'm all for reasons why, but do research first. thank you.

saw someone call tommy a douchebag for leaving buck on the curb and i'm just like oh so tommy was just supposed to stand for being disrespected while he's on a fucking date then ??? like be so fucking for real right now

[violetsystems]

If you wanted tips on dealing with aggressive men? The neighbor that has been following me around the neighborhood and intimidating me for years is now openly hostile through the window. I don't know that there's any benefit to explaining it here any more than he's always been fucking with me. But I'm relieved that he's the kind of white male that yells "you gotta a problem with me" even when I close the curtains. It doesn't really bother me. I worry more that he's been working with the neighborhood to sneak diss and terrorize me every time I go to the Costco. You can't prove there's a problem when people play like nothing is wrong. I didn't really respond other than putting a hand up to my ear through the window while drinking coffee. Just unfortunate I got some paperwork from the government not ten minutes before related to the situation around here that needed completion. So at the very least, the government is aware at the federal level. Nothing really I can do about it. I did accidentally find that I activated my instagram. The only people commenting on there are people I dj'd with from Fukuoka and like one other person I sort of know but don't. I'm sure if I continue to use it I'll be feeding the beast so I'll probably just stay away from it. I don't want to be seen really. Not when I have to deal with a neighborhood that is so zealous it has to protest everywhere I go when I leave the house. I'm not saying I didn't stand up to it aggressively and that didn't ruin everyone's perception of me. They all hid behind this poor me you aren't proving you are socialist enough mentality and told people I was angry and psychotic for calling them out on their mob surveillance. It's just once you confront a bully on their sneak shit there isn't really a path beyond getting their feelings out in the open. You have the advantage of always watching your back now instead of letting your guard down thinking that they'll come to their senses. Acting like there's a future for me in this neighborhood or city is just downright obvious that my reputation, right to work and pursuit happiness is totally defamed. I'm not trying to argue for my freedom anymore when it's obvious I'm under duress from the populist mentality around here. They try to troll you into mental illness and isolation. But when you troll them into melting down in front of you? If I know how you really feel then I don't really give a fuck about you. The sneaky psychological abuse is worse than you yelling at me. And you can't go back to sneaky when you are projecting everything on your t-shirts and stamping your feet. You want to read it here like you have for years? Then fine. Everybody else reads it too and can circulate the drama just the same. At least I don't post it on Instagram. The neighborhood shouldn't be down here reading this unless they're conspiring. And conspiracy and bullying aren't hard to prove when I made you flinch. I'm sorry for blocking some people based on vibe here lately. But enough is enough. If somebody feels bad they should really understand how being open and free in terms of expression can get somebody killed out here. You want to abuse and doxx people on a hellsite in public in their own neighborhood the state of Illinois has laws for that. It doesn't mean I trust the law. And sadly I don't have the luxury of trusting many people anymore after this. It's all love though. I just don't need to be bullied into rehab when I'm drug and alcohol free. I need a job not ptsd and negative publicity.

[ladytemeraire]

Anyway the term “Mary Sue” needs to die in a goddamn fire, especially since people apparently can’t stop using it as a catch-all term for:

“female character that is more capable/skilled at A Thing than at least one (1) male character”

“female character that is capable/skilled at more than one Thing”

“female character that isn’t a love interest”

“female character that is a love interest”

“female character that isn’t written perfectly”

“female character that is well written but isn’t pandering to me [especially when ‘me’ refers to a male reader/viewer]”

“female character I just don’t like Because Reasons”