#I will talk to you kindly if you have concerns off anon but since I’ve ALREADY SAID that I don’t want to talk about this stuff with anons

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Hey just saying, but if you disqualify aot and (in your words) media with too many problematic properties, you should also disqualify harry potter, hetalia and south park. I get that this is a poll for controversial characters, but imo there's very much a line between "this character is controversial because they are a bad person or badly written in an otherwise okay media which you can enjoy critically" and "this character is controversial because the writers project their own bigoted views onto them and are openly right-leaning shit heads whose media or current presentation reflects this too"

No.

There is a discourse tag, you can read what I’ve already said about this. But I’ll summarize a few for you here anyways. There are specific reasons I removed the things I removed and allowed the things I allowed. Here they are, in roughly increasing order. Under a cut so people who don’t wanna see this/are uncomfortable with it don’t have to.

I tag everything appropriately, so if you don’t want to see something I allowed, block the tag or unfollow me. I promise I won’t be offended if you unfollow.

If a character is controversial for being bigoted or from a bigoted media, they’re obviously not gonna advance to further rounds because hate will sweep. So they will not advance and will be gone democratically, and they will certainly not win.

Even if they DID win, this poll would not be “promoting” these medias anyways because this is not a “best” character competition. It is for the most controversial. I am not presenting these medias in any positive light, let alone the characters from them. This is why these SAME medias (and others) ARE banned from my two other tournaments that try to find the “best” thing.

I CAN’T meaningfully promote these medias anyways when they are worth billions of dollars and I have like, under a thousand followers on tumblr.

There are certain medias I think are bigoted and I don’t like them. Harry Potter and South Park are two of them (I don’t know anything about Hetalia). The difference between these and Attack On Titan are, from what I’ve been told, Attack On Titan is bigoted on purpose to push a specific agenda. This is not true for the others. OBVIOUSLY I’m not gonna allow racist propaganda, for the same reason I wouldn’t allow, like, idk anything else that actively seeks to radicalize its audience towards a bigoted end goal

The purpose of removing things is to prevent harm, not to make the controversial character tournament uncontroversial. Because if you remember, I actually DID remove a Harry Potter! Because she is a racist caricature and it would harm people to see racist imagery, language, or propaganda all over my blog. It does not harm anyone to read the words “Ron Weasley” or whatever. It’s not like I’m including a list of every slur the author has ever said underneath each character post. If I’m wrong about some character and their image IS bigoted, let me know! I’m more than happy to make this blog into a safer space for people in that way. But I’m not removing it for being controversial in a way where the actual post content is non-harmful and tag-blockable.

If you still disagree, you can send this ask again off anon and then we can talk and I’ll listen. But I’m not taking orders from some anon saying what I should and should not do.

[fandom-puff]

Reunited

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: after years of trying to forget her professor, Yn and Severus are reunited in an order meeting

AN: so this is set in Ootp. The reader was in percy Weasley’s year at hogwarts, so that puts her at about 19/20 years old. Flashbacks are written in bold italics.

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: references to teacher/student relationship

“Am I late?” You panted, slipping into the basement kitchen, looking thoroughly frazzled.

“No, love,” Sirius grinned. “Only fashionably. Dumbledore isn’t here yet,”

You let out a sigh of relief and slipped into the bench. “Are you staying for dinner, YN?” Mrs Weasley asked kindly. “You look like you haven’t had a hot meal in a week,”

You smiled at her, not having the heart to tell her that her assumption was true. You had just been too busy. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mrs Weasley. Oh, Mr Weasley’s on his way home, he just got caught up. Something to do with Mundungus,”

There was a disapproving grumble across the table as everyone muttered about how untrustworthy Dung was. “Oh, nothing too life threatening this time, I think,” you reassured, and soon enough everyone had settled into their own conversations until Dumbledore drifted into the room, closely followed by Severus Snape. 

Instantly, your heart leapt into your throat as you met his dark eyes which widened ever-so-slightly at seeing you for the first time since you left Hogwarts... 

“Detention, Miss YLN,” 

you smirked to yourself. Detentions with Severus were some of your favourite time together. The pair of you had used ‘discipline’ as a thinly veiled excuse to be with one another, sometimes just talking, sometimes cuddling, and a lot of the time, having sex. 

That night, however, when you slipped into the room, Severus had his back to you. 

“This needs to stop, YN,” he had said, his voice barely above a whisper. Instantly you began panicking. 

“Am I... Is it... Have I done something wrong?” you asked, eyebrows tugged together in a deep frown. 

“No... the other day... we were almost caught, by Gryffindor prefects, no less. If word of this got out, it would jeopardize everything. You’d be expelled... I’d lose my job... or get sent to Azkaban...” he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Shaking your head, you grabbed his hand. “W-we can be more careful. Meet up less often... use more wards...” unshed tears glistened in your eyes, and severus felt his heart shatter into a thousand tiny pieces as your lower lip wobbled. “Severus, please...” you whispered, voice cracking. 

Severus pushed your hand away, and the soft expression he always had when around you shifted into its usual harded glare. “Professor Snape to you, YLN. Go back to your common room before I deduct points. You have NEWTS to study for,” 

”Professor!” you exclaimed, drawing the attention of the entire order. “Ahem... erm... I... haven’t seen you since... since school,” you muttered, heat rising to your cheeks as you looked at your lap. 

“Indeed. I haven’t been your professor for a few years now,” he said, his voice drawling, though there was something akin to fondness and concern glinting in his eyes. “Severus will do,” 

for the rest of the meeting, you barely paid attention, eyes constantly flickering to Severus. When he began speaking, however, you looked a little starstruck, hanging onto his every word like you used to do in potions all those years ago. you didn't snap out of it until everyone’s chairs were scraping against the floor as dumbledore called the meeting to an end and dismissed everyone. You hurried to the door, but due to your daze, you were one of the last to leave, and you heart jumped again at the sound of a low, familiar voice calling your name. 

Turning to face Severus, you looked up at him, a worried expression on your face as you nibbled your lower lip. “A word?” he asked, jutting his head over to the pantry. Ah, you thought, a meeting in a store cupboard, just like old times. 

You nodded and followed him, hoping to god the remaining order members who were trickling out of the door didn’t notice. You shut the pantry door behind him and looked up at him expectantly. When he didn’t speak, you sighed, shaking your head. “What are you doing?” you asked weakly, your shoulders withering as you slumped against the door, head in hands. “Gonna send me away again and threaten to deduct points?” 

Severus sighed softly. “YN... I asked to speak with you, didn’t I? Why would I immediately send you away?” 

In a small voice, you murmured “Because that’s what you did last time,” despite yourself, tears began to fall and your shoulders shook gently. Severus looked pained, and swooped over to engulf you in a hug, the type that used to soothe you. Only now, it seemed to rile you up as you tried to shove him away, hitting his firm chest as you sobbed. “You bastard!” you cried, all the fight in you leaving as you collapsed into his arms, letting him embrace you. When you had sufficiently calmed down, severus held you at arms length, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Listen to me. No interruptions, alright?” you nodded. “I cannot put into words how sorry I am for the pain and heartbreak that I have put you through for the past two years. I’m sorry I ended things the way I did. I’m sorry I pushed you away and cut you off so quickly,” 

“You said it yourself, Severus... it needed to be done,” you murmured, voice still a little shaky. “You would’ve lost your job because of me,” 

“What happened between us, YN, wasn’t just your doing. It was mine too, and undoubtedly, you’ve been blaming yourself this whole time, and I should’ve made that clear. I should’ve ended it differently-”

“But you didn’t,” you muttered bitterly. 

“I know,” he said firmly. “But... things have changed. And if... if...”

“Severus... are you asking to... if we can...” you asked, as speechless as he had become. Before severus could reply, your lips were pressed against his in a soft yet passionate kiss, all the things left unsaid spilling out as his lips began moving against yours. You were vaguely aware of your cheeks getting wet, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your tears or severus’s tears. 

It was both. 

As you pulled apart, still in one another’s arms, you smiled up at severus. “I’ll take  that as a yes?” he asked gently, stroking your tears away with his thumb.

“Of course, you daft git,” you laughed. “I’ve bloody missed you... two years... we don’t have to hide anymore...” you mused aloud as severus pulled you to his chest. 

“Indeed. Come on, YN... sack off dinner here. Let’s find a cafe, a pub, anything. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan​ @lotsoffandomrecs​ @justanotherwildstar​ @rai-strangebr​ @zodiyack​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @dumbfuckinslytherin​ @severuslovebot​ @darkthought15​ @strawberriesonsummer​  @rabeccablake​ @sambucky8​

[icollectyoursins]

Dio x Fem!Reader Fingering At Dinner NSFW

Anon asked for "Spicy Dio Brando request please where he's fingering his easily flustered female s/o under the table during dinner w/ the Joestars and then leads to something more spicy 😳✨"

Just a heads up: this takes place during part 1, Phantom Blood.

Dio and you have been together for a while now, so naturally dinner with his family would be the next step, right? Well, low and behold, Dio has other plans. A little test of composure, shall we say?

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Teasing, exhibitionism, fingering, Dio being the coy ass we all simp for.

Word Count: 1457

Just a Little Distraction

     The sound of glasses clinking as well feint voices filled your ears as you look around the room, waiting for your meals to arrive. A slender finger brushes against your thigh, bringing your attention back to the table. Dio catches your gaze, smiling in a sadistically sweet way. He slides his finger down your thigh, slowly pressing his hand into it. You bat his hand away, crossing your legs while shooting him a death glare.

     “Is everything alright, Miss (Y/N)?” George Joestar’s smooth, deep voice brought your gaze towards the other side of the table. 

     “Yes, Mr. Joestar, everything’s fine!” You lied, intertwining your fingers with Dio’s. Hopefully, that will keep him entertained for now. He was insatiable, as always, but could it at least wait until after dinner?

     “So, Dio, how was your week away from home?” Jonathan chirped in, inquiring about his adoptive brother’s life. A silent prayer was made to keep him from saying something obscene in front of his family. 

     Dio had spent the past week away from home on what they had suspected was a trip for law school or something like that, but in actuality, he had spent most of his time with you in a dodgy hotel. Your nights together were... raunchy? Passionate? What was the word you were looking for-

     His hand escaped yours, latching onto your thigh again, making you choke on the water you were sipping. 

     Lewd. That’s the word he used. 

     Frustration started to bubble up inside you as you tried to pull him away to no avail. He was so much stronger than you. How many times had he picked you up off the ground or tossed you over his shoulder or thrown you onto the bed before making love to you? Honestly, you had lost count, but the point still stands: there was no way you were getting his hand off of you. You gave in, laying yours over his, linking your fingers again.

     The night started to pass with light conversation, mostly about what you did in your free time at home, if you were educated, etc. It was pleasant, actually and the nicest you had seen Dio since the first day at the hotel (he’d only helped you bring your bags in, but still). The hand started to drift slowly towards your inner thigh, then towards your nether regions. 

     This time you used two hands to stop him, keeping your fingers locked together with one and wrapping around his bicep with the other one. It probably just looked like two lovers huddling together, smiles still stretched across your faces. At least, you hoped that was what it looked like. 

     When it looked like Jonathan and George were busy in their own conversation Dio leaned into your face, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.

     “You look so good tonight, (Y/N).” A shiver ran down your spine. “I can’t wait, my dear. I need you now.”

     The words were hissed, but the smile on his face was still there, deceptively sweet. You shot him another look, perplexed at his boldness. He chuckled, pecking your cheek again. He returned to the conversation, ignoring your worry. His movements were so slight, you wouldn’t have been able to notice them if you weren’t feeling his hand slowly raking up your dress. It slides back to its proper place on your thigh, warm and familiar. That son of a-

     Someone walks by and you quickly lean forward, hiding his hand from view. You pretended to be interested in the conversation, flicking your eyes to Dio who grinned back at you. His almost golden eyes sent sparks of excitement through your body. Were you actually going to let him do this? One of his fingers danced along the fabric keeping his finger away from your already sensitive folds, making you shiver.

     “Are you cold, (Y/N)?” Jonathan asked, distracting you.

     “It is a little chilly, but you’re fine, right?” Dio grinned, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

     “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the concern, though.” You pressed yourself closer to him, hoping they would buy it. They all smiled and continued on talking about education, you think. You couldn’t really pay attention with the delicate circles being traced around your privates. Though, they weren’t really private anymore, were they? You felt the cloth being pushed aside slowly. He was right. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel either. 

     The anticipation was killing you. You had only actually been intimate with one another for a week, but he had some kind of spell over you. You were addicted. He could tell you to sit on his face right now and you would do it. His fingers spread your folds apart, not wasting any more time. One delicately traced over your clit once before getting braver, slowly stroking you up and down.

     You felt your face getting hotter, deciding to bury it in his arm a little more in an attempt to hide it. Dio let out a breath, trying not to laugh at your eagerness. A second digit was added to your clit, sending pleasure shooting through your nerves. He continued to torture you with a slow pace, never moving his finger from its place.

     It was easy to get used to, somehow, and you found yourself able to add to the conversation much to his dismay. Fine, he’d just have to make it harder for you to concentrate. He leaned forward onto the table, giving himself the right amount of leverage to slide one of his fingers inside your warmth, all the way up to-

     You let out a gasp, shocked at first, but you had to keep your composure. A quick glance around the table told you they didn’t notice, thank god.

     Perfect. He had you right where he wanted you. Deciding to spoil himself a little, he watched you shift, trying to find a comfortable position out the corner of his eye. You tried to relax but didn’t get the chance to as his finger rolled into your g-spot. Quickly, you covered your mouth to hold back the whimper that you knew was coming. If there was one thing you learned in your week together with Dio it was that he would always make sure people knew what he was doing to you. 

     His finger continued to rock into you, again and again, coaxing the tiniest sounds out of you that you covered with your hand or with food. He felt so good, it should be criminal to be this good. You were getting close, occasionally looking over to him, trying to catch his attention. It never worked. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

     “I think it’s time for us to be going,” George said, with Jonathan nodding afterwards, smiling kindly. 

     “Will you be returning home with us, Dio?” Jonathan asked.

     “No.” He stopped moving, finally. “I’ve still got work here. Thank you for dinner. I hope (Y/N) and I can look forward to more in the future?” The two across the table smiled.

     “Of course, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You smiled back at George.

     “And you, Mr. Joestar.” Dio was still watching you, drinking in your quivering form. If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed you were cold or something like that. 

     Final goodbyes were said as the dinner was paid for. They got up first, making their way towards the doors, leaving you alone with him for a moment. Hazel eyes bore into yours as he slowly pulled his finger out, relishing in the small breath that passed over your lips when his hand was gone. With a devilish chuckle, he lapped up your juices, making a show of it. You panted, leaning into him, so desperate for more. 

     “The carriage is waiting, (Y/N). Let’s go.” Gently, you were ushered out of the chair. Quickly, you linked arms with him, not wanting to let him go.

     As you waited outside, Dio’s coat was wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in his scent. No conversation was had between you, just cheeky kisses and knowing looks at each other. You heard someone call out his name. Upon looking over you saw it was George Joestar, making you panic. He instructed you to wait while he spoke with them, promptly returning to your side a few minutes later, smiling wildly.

     “What did they want?” You asked, concerned.

     “He just wanted me to know that you looked rather sick and you should retire to bed once I drop you off at home.” A hissed chuckle rumbled through his chest as your eyes grew wide, clearly missing the joke. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you stay in bed tonight.”

[bugsbucky]

Cotton Clouds

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Hiii lovely! Could I kindly request a Bucky x plus!size reader - she is really shy and insecure about her body weight and is more like the chef to the avengers (cooking breakfast and dinner for them and that kind of stuff) she is also being secretly bullied by a lower rank agent and one day the bully shoves her and she falls over, hurting herself and Bucky saw everything and just!! Protective Bucky is my life. Please don't rush! There's no pressure from me 🖤 love you!!

Warnings: Angst, body shaming, insecurities, bullying, asshole agents, protective!Bucky, protective!Steve (kinda), language, broken noses, a little pussy that probably shat his pants, fluff, happy endings.

Word Count: 3,007

Authors Notes: thank you dear anon for sending in this request. I’ve combined this request for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ 24 hour surprise drabble and Summer Loving Challenge and I chose Rooftop bar/restaurant.

If anyone ever makes you feel this shitty, you just tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. Nobody, NOBODY has the right to degrade you for your weight or anything else for that matter. If they are bullying you, it only means there is a problem with their own reflection and it’s not actually you. You’re loved and James Buchanan Barnes loves and worships you so much. 

My taglist is actually open so if you’d like to join please feel free to send me a message/ask :)

Since becoming a part of the Avenger family as their personal cook, you’ve established strong bonds with just about everyone on the team. They accepted you for who you were and never once made a disrespectful comment or snicker about your soft belly or thick thighs. Of course, it didn’t stop you from wishing you had a figure like Nat or Wanda, but the team didn’t make you feel less of a human and despite their kindness, you often still felt out of place and insecure about your weight. The one person who made you feel extra special was Bucky Barnes. During movie nights his fingers would circle your soft waist, his hugs also lasted a lot longer than what was considered necessary. Over time, the two of you became close friends. You ended up developing a small crush on him, imagining yourself waking up in his arms every morning and reminding you just how beautiful you are.

Around them, you were shy and barely spoke a word other than a good morning greeting or an ‘enjoy your meal’ as you dished out their food you had cooked. You were preparing some bacon and toast in the kitchen when James, an agent on the lower rank pranced into the kitchen, puffing his chest out and grinning at your shock of seeing him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks and takes a step closer, forcing you to take one step back. Your eyes flicked over his shoulder and saw 3 other of his friends snickering near the doorway.

“S-sure.” your voice croaked, ignoring the splutter from the coffee pot.

“Do you sleep in a bed like a normal human being, or do you sleep on the beach like a whale? I’m not sure where whales your size sleep.” The laughter behind James formed a lump in your throat. 

“Morning folks! Uh James, you’re not supposed to be in here.” Steve walked in with his Captain America suit on and warned. His hands just above his belt as he took the burning bacon off the gas.

“Sorry Captain. Just had to ask Y/N for something.” James winked and smiled innocently at Steve. You never told anyone about the things James would say to you. They were far too embarrassing and you were secretly scared they felt the same way but just didn’t have the heart to say anything.

“No problem. Just don’t let it happen again.” Steve warned as James left, reaching up in the cupboard for a mug. He looks at you briefly, concern washes over his face as he saw you were batting tears away. “Hey are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?” Steve wondered, folding his broad arms across his chest. 

“No no! I’m fine really. Breakfast won’t be too long.” you lied and busied yourself in the kitchen that Tony had put in especially for your needs. 

“Okay well look, if he or anyone is giving you any problems, you come to me alright? We don’t tolerate harassment here.” Steve gave your shoulder a squeeze, the words on the tip of your tongue that this has been going on for months. You want to tell Steve that but you’re hesitant and bite your tongue, just nodding and thanking the captain for caring so much. You quickly pull yourself back together and resume the task of breakfast.

Your hesitancy didn’t go amiss by Steve. He knew you wanted to say something but you were so shy he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He didn’t want you suffering either and since the team were leaving for a one month mission, he chose to ask Bucky to stay behind to keep an eye on things. Since Bucky was sidelined from an injury to his flesh arm, he wouldn’t have gone on this mission anyway.

Once breakfast to the Avengers was served and they were happy, you quickly untied the apron from around your waist and hung it on the hook. The kitchen was cleaned and you headed back to your room for a much needed shower and break. You would normally join the team for breakfast but after the question James asked, you quickly came up with an excuse why you wouldn’t be joining them today.

Your gaze was kept to the floor as you walked and your shoulder bumped into someone else’s. Before you could apologise, an obnoxious laugh pierced your ears. 

“Watch where you’re going you glonk!” It was James and you sighed. 

“Sorry.” you muttered and steadied yourself. Pulling your baggy shirt away from your stomach.

“Wouldn’t bother doing that. Unless you can stick a bag over your head and hide your ugly mug too.” James snickered, encouraged by the roaring laughter of his friends standing behind him, throwing the occasion comment in your face too. 

“I said I was sorry!” hot tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving behind a wet streak in the process. “I’m sorry for everything!” you crumbled under the pressure. Apologising to this asshole for what exactly? For being softer than the other girls who worked in the compound? For being too shy to stand up for yourself? For not being good enough? In truth, you didn’t know why you were apologising. You were doing nothing wrong.

“Apologising won’t mean shit to me!” James taunted walking behind you and giving you a hard shove. You fall forwards, your knees hitting the hard marble floors first. Your hands stop your face from smashing against the floor. 

“HEY!” a loud voice and footsteps echo through the hallway. The friends of James all scattered and ran down the hall as Bucky stalked towards you. “What the fuck are you doing?!” you recognised Bucky’s voice, of course you did. It was your favourite voice in the compound because it belonged to your crush. Bucky was a sweetheart, always making sure you felt better about yourself. He was quiet just like you, but the confidence he would give you made you feel so much better about yourself. Of course, it didn’t work so well since James started bullying you.

You peeked up. Bucky’s nostrils were flared, his jaw clenched and his eyes insanely wide, anger swirling around behind his irises. His metal arm whirring down by his side as he clenched and unclenched his fist. He saw what this jerk had done to you and no woman should be treated like that.

James remained silent, looking like a deer in headlights. Bucky wasn’t impressed by his lack of answers and with his metal arm, shoved James against the wall and his hand wrapped around his throat squeezing his windpipe slightly. 

“You gonna talk now huh? Where have your fucking balls gone?” Bucky spat in his face, his flesh arm in a sling pressed against his chest.

“I- I am sorry!” James was gasping for air and Bucky eased off his throat just a little. 

“How long has this been going on?” Bucky wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

As their confrontation was just getting started, you pushed yourself up off the floor ignoring the aching in your knees as you stood next to Bucky. Your hand on his metal arm to try and diffuse the situation. It was no use, Bucky hated bullies and he wasn’t going to let go of this guy’s throat until he had the answers he was asking.

“HOW LONG?!?!” Bucky roared, saliva spraying James’ face. You have never seen Bucky like this, so enraged and protective. It was almost like something or someone had woken The Winter Soldier up inside of him. 

Bucky liked you a lot. He liked your soft belly,  thick thighs and rosy red cheeks. Your disheveled hair in the mornings and your cooking was absolutely amazing. To him, you were the perfect wife. Without you even knowing, Bucky would often daydream about the two of you living in the country with your children and you baking some homemade pies. The two of you were like the perfect balance in his eyes, you were soft and fluffy and a sweetheart and he was damn sure no man or woman was going to ever hurt you.

“Months.” James gasped out. This angered Bucky more as he growled in his face. 

“Bucky.” your voice was quiet as you pleaded with him, his eyes momentarily flicking down to yours with your soft eyes staring back at him that he loved so much. Bucky released his grip from his throat, but not before punching him square in the nose. The audible crack made you cringe and you brought your hands up to cover your mouth as blood dripped from the obvious broken nose.

“Let me tell you something you little shit. If you EVER approach Y/N again, if you EVER breathe in her direction or lay one dirty finger on her again and I promise you, not only will I break every finger on your hand and your legs but I’ll make sure you’re kicked off the team. Do you understand me you fucking asshole? You touch or speak to her ONE MORE TIME and don’t you dare test my patience.”

“Y-es Sergeant Barnes.” James was full on crying, either from the pain of his nose or the threats Bucky was spewing in his face or the combination of the two, you weren’t sure but as soon as Bucky stepped back and pulled your body close to his, James took off staggering up the hall, occasionally glancing back to make sure the winter soldier wasn’t following him, leaving droplets of blood as a trail.

“Are you alright sweetheart?” Bucky’s softer voice took you by surprise. His metal appendages stroked your warm cheeks and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shook her head and Bucky’s eyes narrowed. Your knees were badly bruised and he clicked his tongue. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and he walked you back to your room in silence. The anger was still radiating off him, just his very heavy breathing filling the silence. His disbelief that any human could hurt you the way James did. If you were not there, he most likely would have ripped him a new asshole. But since you weren’t a fighter, he didn’t want you scared or panicked.

When you eventually got back to your room, Bucky marveled at how beautiful, neat and tidy the space was. Books scattered over a couple of shelves and your computer neatly placed in the middle of a white desk with your pink and white office chair. You reminded him of a fluffy pink cloud with some chunks of marshmallows. 

He loved the aesthetic comfort it provided.

“Wow this is so beautiful.” He complimented as you sat on the end of your bed. You smiled back sheepishly, feeling the warmth of the blush creep back up your neck and cheeks. 

“Thank you.” you sighed. Bucky’s eyes were soft and so blue. You could stare into them for hours.

“You’re welcome doll. He won’t bother you again and if he does, you tell me immediately. I won’t be so kind next time.” 

“I know. I’m just… ashamed.” you dipped your head and fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“Doll, let me tell you something.” Bucky sighed as he took a seat next to you, throwing his arm back over your shoulder. Nuzzling your face into the warmth of his chest, breathing in his fresh sandalwood scent. “As a man who grew up in the really old days and a man who was given the best eyesight. I can honestly say, with my hand on my heart that you are really gorgeous, beautiful and so special. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, the fault is with him, not you. Maybe he’s jealous because he doesn’t have killer thighs or something.” you chuckled into his chest, his heart pounding against your ear. 

“You think I’m special?” your question was muffled but he heard you clearly. Your eyes glancing down at his thick thighs.

“Of course I do. You’re the first person I look for when I enter a room doll.” 

“Thank you Bucky. You’re just amazing in every way.” You pulled away with a triumph toothy grin on your face and pink tinted cheeks. 

“Don’t have to keep thankin’ me doll. Though if you really wanna say thanks, accept my invitation and come to dinner with me tonight.” he cocked an eyebrow and your anxiety washed through you. 

“Wh-where?”

“There’s this rooftop restaurant Sam recommended and I really want to go but I don’t want to go alone.” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the hairs on the back of his neck. “Please?” and out came the puppy eyes. You chuckled and nodded your head.

“Sure. Of course.” Bucky grinned and leaned in and pressed a kiss to your rounded cheek. 

“Thanks doll. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.”

A few hours later

A loud knock - metal on wood sounded at your door and you sighed, checking out your attire for this evening. After hours of wondering what to wear and taking Nat’s advice and smoothed the dress over with your hands, giving one final look in the long mirror. You slipped into your expensive heels and opened the door. You gasped, Bucky was wearing a dark navy sweater with a collar, one arm missing as he kept it under the sweater and dark clad jeans matched with his combat boots. You saw the silver chain shining around his neck and you assumed he was wearing the dog tags he recently retrieved, his hair slicked back into a low bun in the nape of his neck, a day old stubble peppered his chin and cheeks and you were tempted to run your fingertips over the prickly hairs. While you were busy ogling his attire, he was also checking you out. Your choice of dress was gorgeous and it hugged your curves just perfectly, revealing just the right amount of cleavage that Bucky knew he would have a hard time keeping his eyes off during dinner. Your makeup was nothing too crazy, opting for a natural look. 

“Wow doll, you look amazing.” Bucky gulped and shifted on the balls of his feet. 

“You absolutely do too, Buck.” you exchanged a smile and walked down the hall with him, occasionally stealing glances at one another. When the two of you stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, he offered his arm and you gladly took it. 

The restaurant Bucky took you to was absolutely perfect. A single candle in the middle of the 2 seater table with a rose in a vase. Champagne in a bucket of ice. 

“People are staring.” you stated as Bucky pulled your chair out for you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek lovingly, causing an eruption of tingles in the pit of your belly.

“Let ‘em stare. Probably just jealous because I’m with the most sexiest woman here.” he spoke nonchalantly. You giggled and hid behind your hands. The city lights illuminated both of your features as you sat and talked about everything and anything that came to mind.

Bucky told you about the new music he was listening to and how he didn’t like it. You laughed and agreed and told him to listen to some 80s with a promise you’ll personally create him a playlist. Bucky told jokes and you laughed heartily. Exchanging flirty glances and smiles every now and then. The one thing that really set your soul on fire was when you caught him glancing at your chest and licking his lips. You were grateful to Nat for the suggestion of a push up bra to push your boobs together and made a mental note to thank her later. 

“I have something for you.” Bucky said, putting down his glass of champagne and reaching into his front pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small black velvet box and put it down in front of you. He laughed at the look on your face. “Don’t worry, it’s not an engagement ring.” he clarified and you blew some air out. Picking up the little black box, you gasped when you flicked the lid open. Wedged between the slit was an expensive looking silver ring with diamonds. 

“Bucky! Oh my god! What is this?” Was he sure it wasn’t an engagement ring? The two of you weren’t even dating, surely he wouldn’t.

“It’s a promise ring. I was going to give it to you on the weekend when I was hoping you’d go to dinner with me when we were alone in the compound but things changed.” his chuckle turned into a smile and you mirrored it.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous!” removing the ring from the box, you slip it onto your finger and it fits like a glove. How he guessed your size was anyone’s guess. 

“Doll. I promise you that I will be here to protect you. Nobody will ever dare speak a bad word to you again. But I also promise to take care of you and make you smile and laugh every single day. I care about you so much and I mean everything I’m saying. If you’ll have me of course.” 

Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. He really did mean them. 

“My weight. It really doesn’t bother you?” you bit your lip with your eyebrows raised. 

“No it absolutely doesn’t. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to spend a long time proving it to you that I love you and your body the way it is. I’ve waited a really long time for you doll. So, will you be mine?” 

“Always.” Bucky reached over and grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“My doll.”

“My Bucky.” 

“Forever your Bucky, doll. Let’s order dessert then we can go home and have some real dessert.” he winked and you chuckled, dipping your head and blushing for the hundredth time today. 

Taglist: @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @hawksmagnolia​ @crushedbyhyperbole​ @deanthedemon​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @emilylyoness​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @littleredstarfish​ @kitkatd7

[chalkrevelations]

Moving on to Episode 4 of Word of Honor, and y’all.

Wait, first: If you’re new or just visiting, this is a re-watch, so there are SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the ENTIRE SHOW. Maybe a lot of them. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled. (They’re all gonna be tagged “word of honor episode reax”)

A couple of big things, first:

So, right up front, I don’t know for sure that this is the first time we’ve heard the word, but it’s the first time I’ve twigged to it in this re-watch. As Zhou Zishu and Chengling are leaving the inn in the morning, at the very beginning of the ep, Wen Kexing asks why ZZS continues to call him gongzi and wants to know if he’s still too much of an outsider for a less formal form of address. He uses the word 外人 (wairen) (at 2:30) for “outsider,” which is how the subs translate it here. Anybody who’s been around for these flailing reactions since the first time I watched the show might remember that I made a deal about this somewhere around in the late 20s of the episodes, based on a post from someone that I scrolled quickly past while avoiding spoilers and that I have NEVER FOUND AGAIN and am STILL LOOKING FOR, that alerted me to the use of this word and its nuances in ep 25. There’s a conversation there about WKX possibly taking over some of Chengling’s training at Siji Manor, and WKX demurs, calling himself “外人.” Youku translated it there as “someone else,” as in having “someone else” train your disciple, and ZZS responds with “And you’re 外人?” again translated as “someone else.” This actually seems to mean “stranger,” or “outsider,” as they do actually translate it here in Ep 4 - presumably someone who’s from outside your sect, at least in the Ep 25 instance, in which WKX is labeling himself that while he’s in the midst of his upcoming crisis, trying to keep his emotional distance from ZZS and Siji Manor. It’s used again in Ep 26, when ZZS finds WKX giving training advice to Chengling, and it’s one of the ways they have WKX and A-Xiang reflect each other, when she uses it in Ep 29, and rejects it as a description of herself, in order to claim a place in Cao Weining’s sect/family (which, now, knowing … GOD. My HEART). Anyway, I found it super-interesting that WKX is using this word here in Ep 4 to push against ZZS’s boundaries, in contrast to the way he’ll use it later, to try to fortify his own walls against ZZS and Siji Manor. I begin to suspect that he doesn’t want to tell ZZS who he actually is because, maybe, just a little bit, he wants ZZS to figure it out, to recognize him, to truly know him (zhiji) without him having to spell it out. We kind of travel back around to this idea near the end of the ep, when WKX is questioning ZZS about the Baiyi sword, and ZZS tells him that their relationship is like the fish that ZZS unsuccessfully tried to cook and threw on the ground – raw (i.e., unacquainted) – to explain why he keeps shutting out and shutting down WKX. Only we know now that isn’t entirely true, and WKX certainly suspects it isn’t entirely true. (Also, just an observation, ZZS says in that later scene that he’s not interested in who WKX is. DON’T TELL HIM THAT, my dude, now it’s going to be 3,246 episodes before he’ll give you any personal info.)

Also, just a note – I think we make the switch from Zhou-xiong to A-Xu in this ep. (ETA: No! I have been reliably informed by @janedrewfinally that this switch happened back at the end of Ep 3 (at 41:18), and it seems to be part of what precipitates the Completely Reasonable, Not At All Flirtatious, Utterly Heterosexual No Really, Like Bros way that ZZS takes WKX's wine jar. You know the incident we mean.)

The second thing that I really started turning over in my head here is the developing relationship between WKX and Chengling, and this is one of the things that took me so long on this one, because I wanted to go back and look at those two, specifically, in the previous eps again, and revisit their interactions both with and without the mediating factor of ZZS. The first time WXK sees Chengling is in the marketplace at the end of Ep 1 when Chengling ends up giving his token to ZZS. But I think the first time WKX sees Chengling is maybe when WKX’s sitting in the cutout window with his drinkie during the massacre of Mirror Lake and ZZS draws the Baiyi sword to protect Boatman Li and Chengling, just before they make it to the boat and float away back to the mainland. I don’t know how much of the beginning of the fight in the abandoned temple WKX then sees before A-Xiang makes her entrance, but there’s a lot of Chengling flinging himself in front of Boatman Li and ZZS in a way that’s not entirely dissimilar to the way Zhen Yan will fling himself at his parents’ bodies in flashback in a later episode, and then WKX definitely sees dying Boatman Li charge ZZS with Chengling’s care, then make Chengling bow, in a parallel to the scene we’ll get later when Qin Huaizhang accepts Zhen Yan as a Siji Manor shidi. In Ep 3, there’s a lot of weird sympathetic looks from WKX as A-Xiang berates Chengling over dinner (she doesn’t quite have this jiejie thing down yet, and she’s probably never had someone younger than her to take care of) for not taking care of himself so he can be strong and get his revenge for his family’s deaths. This time out, Ep 4, we start with the beggar gangs coming after Chengling, which has some resonance with the former Ghost Valley Master and his Ten Devils standing around the bodies of Zhen Yan’s parents and debating what they’re going to do with this kid before they steal him away. You can see WKX’s eyes start to narrow as the lead beggar dude talks, and he eventually even asks them, “What are you going to do if he doesn’t want to go, take him away by force?” We get a LOT of cutting to WKX in this conversation, even though he ostensibly has nothing to do with this, it’s really a convo between Beggar Guy, ZZS and Chengling. WKX pulls focus, and he eventually provokes that fight, and sure, he wants to see ZZS fighting and hopefully get a look at the Baiyi sword, and he even may think that’s the extent of his ulterior motives, but I’m not sure that actually is the full extent of his motives, there. This episode is also when we really see WKX start to encourage Chengling to continue to press at ZZS about taking him as a disciple, including the first use of the infamous “Tough women can’t resist clingy men” saying. Chengling comments that he was just supposed to be Son #3 who stayed home and took care of the old people, and WKX comes back with the Extremely Significant Comment that “When the children want to fulfill their filial piety, the parents have died,” which is not only Extremely Significant, but also sounds like it may be a quote from a poem or other literature? Anyway, a lot of this is just to say, KINDLY AU ANON WHO WAS THINKING ABOUT WRITING THE STORY IN WHICH WKX GETS CUSTODY OF CHENGLING BECAUSE ZZS IS NOT AT MIRROR LAKE, ARE YOU STILL OUT THERE? Hopefully you are hard at work, writing, because I have been having thoughts about this relationship.

What else? Kind of chronologically:

First of all, it continues to physically pain me to have to look at that horrifying facial hair, ZZS. I cannot WAIT to hit Ep 6.

We open this ep on WKX rolling walnuts in his hand in a way that is reminiscent of SOMEONE who we’ve seen do that before – multiple times, given they put that shot of Ghost Valley Master in the opening credits. Nevertheless, I didn’t catch this right away on my first time through. It took me a few episodes, and then I FINALLY noticed the opening credits shot right in front of my face. Point to you, show. Once you know, this ep practically shoves it in your face, recreating not only the walnut rolling, but a dude getting held up in the air and choked out (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1 (and will see again)) before being slammed down on the ground with WKX crouched over him (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1). Later, WKX is concerned about his manicure (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1). It’s actually a little bit funny that both he and ZZS - a master assassin and a guy who literally skinned another dude (and maybe ate him?) to take his throne – are both so prissy about actual, literal blood. Anyway, is it significant or a coincidence that WKX waits until ZZS and Chengling are out of sight before actually going wild-eyed? You know the look I mean.

OH MY GOD, it’s Lovelace. I had blocked this dude from my mind. Eurgh. Nevertheless, there are a number of things I love about his scene, and all of them are related to A-Xiang, my feral beloved - from the way she clomps into the room, completely unworried about stepping the least bit gracefully while making her presence known and stomping (lit. and fig.) all over his dramatic little bit, to the way she berates him, threatens him with “Aunt Luo,” bares her teeth at him, and makes the eye-gouging motion at him. She is the best, and I adore her. I also love how she literally laughs in WKX’s face at his comment that maybe he just wants to be friends with ZZS, OK, is that alright?

The fight with the beggar gangs in this ep may be the first time we see something similar to the cage of spears maneuver in Prince Jin’s throne room all the way up in Ep … what? 30? … although it won’t be the last time we see it, and each time we see ZZS is perfectly capable of avoiding it or escaping it, making me suspect that Tian Chuang only “trapped” him in it because he let them, just like he only got taken back to Prince Jin in chains, in the first place, because he let it happen. We see it at 5:30 with the beggar gang’s staffs, when ZZS breaks it up by literally flinging another dude into the middle of it. We see it at 5:41, when he kicks his way out of the formation. And we see it at 8:15, when the sheaths have come off the swords, and he feints under them to break his way out. Just noticing.

When WKX is talking about the Baiyi sword as they all sit around ZZS’ sad little raw fish in the dirt by the lakeside, he mentions that Rong Changqing created three master works – the White Cloth sword, the Dragonback, and the “Great Wild Land,” per Youku’s translation. ZZS has the Baiyi sword, I assume the Dragonback is Ye Baiyi’s sword. Is the Great Wild Land actually the Ghost Valley? Given what we learn from Ye Baiyi in the back nine about Rong Changqing and his plans for Ghost Valley? Anyway, then we get some magic pipa playing, and ZZS (trying to, apparently) play WKX’s xiao in musical self-defense, and even though he leaves his opponent bleeding, WKX takes the opportunity to make suggestive comments about teaching him how to blow properly, just in case WKX’s been slacking on his act as a cheesy pick-up artist and anyone’s beginning to see through him. ZZS yells at Chengling for his lack of martial skill, then yells at him for crying, because that always works, particularly with traumatized teenagers who have had their entire family and sect massacred like, two nights ago. As a shifu, I’m not sure how you manage to inspire such devotion, my dude. WKX plays the indulgent parent, but also reassures Chengling that ZZS has good reasons for yelling at a traumatized, newly orphaned kid. I suppose he is getting him ready for all the yelling that’s going to go down once they get to Five Lakes Alliance and Chengling has to deal with Gao Chong and Shenshen. Chengling’s response, with WKX’s encouragement, is to ask to be ZZS’s disciple again. Was Han Ying (who I guess we’ve yet to actually meet at this point (EDIT TO ADD: NO WAIT, he was in Ep 1)) this much of a little dumbass to 24-year-old ZZS when Han Ying was 14? (EDIT 2 TO ADD: And who is writing this story, omg.) Although, ugh, that makes me realize that part of ZZS’s bad mood is that Chengling asking to be a disciple must be bringing up a shit-ton of bad stuff for ZZS about how he got all the other Siji Manor disciples killed. (Wen Kexing sees himself in Chengling, making his bow to Qin Huaizhang, one of the few good things that ever happened in his life, while ZZS sees all those red flowers on the mural back in his rooms in Prince Jin’s palace.) A final lakeside observation – A-Xiang pokes at ZZS’s uselessness as a cook here, and WKX will later ask him why he’s so utilitarian about food and drink, when they’re the greatest pleasures of life. (Really, WKX? THE greatest pleasures? Although that’s certainly an interesting comment given where we end up, in the end.) And it makes me begin to wonder – is ZZS so bad at cooking, and does he continue to avoid it, at least partially because he’s already losing his senses enough so that it interferes with preparing a tasty meal?

Also, we meet the Four Scorpion Assassins, and Pretty Arhat and Evil Bodhisattva have some pretty bold names, but now I’m back on my thing about the women in this show, and wondering what kind of enlightenment or release these two feel like they’ve had, and how it may or may not resemble the mindset of the women of the Department of the Unfaithful in Ghost Valley. I’m not well-versed in Buddhism, though, and am maybe not the person to take on how that religious symbolism is or is not used as a metaphor for female freedom in this show.

This is getting kind of long, so one last observation for now, and I think I may have mentioned this before: WKX has color-coded ZZS and Chengling as a unit in the robes he bought for them when he also rented out the entire inn. He’s not in the same color, but he is in a complementary shade and tone, which I find interesting. Also, his sash is sort of salmon, not the red of his Ghost Valley getup, but not completely divorced from it, either.

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

[lazaefair]

Sequence of events the way I perceived/remember them. I’m doing my best to be as honest as possible and to minimize self-defensiveness, but I’m only human. Trying anyway:

I join All & More.

Within the first few days, I either bring up something about fandom racism, or challenge something someone said that I felt played into cultural biases regarding Marwan/Joe and the conversation turns to fandom racism. I don’t remember which happened first.

Either way, over the next weeks, between other conversations I get into several arguments/discussions about fandom racism with a few different people, including goldheartedsky. One person blocks me, which is how I learn about Discord blocking, and I block them back.

Goldheartedsky in particular keeps making remarks that show a clear bias against Joe/Marwan on the same spectrum as the biases that other Top Joe Stans have demonstrated in the previous months. She’s by no means the only one, as there is a mix of Top Joe Stans, neutral (I thought at the time) parties, and then me and Ven. But goldheartedsky and I get into it a few times with varying degrees of civility. She demonstrates that she relies heavily on strawman fallacies, red herrings, disingenuous mischaracterizations, and outright lying as tactics.

At some point I realize that she has blocked me (I can’t tag her or add reactions to her posts) so I block her back, as everything she had been posting had been upsetting me anyway.

After that, I started blocking people who got to roughly the same threshold as she did - attempting to preserve my fandom experience and give my stress levels a break.

By the time the conversation in question happens, I’ve blocked a handful of people, and basically just ignore the “blocked messages” bars that replace their posts and act like they’re not there. This is what happens during The Conversation - there is at least one blocked person, maybe more, but I don’t know because they are blocked and all Discord shows you is “3 blocked messages” or however many messages have been replaced.

I also unfortunately was lackadaisical about tagging the people I was actually responding to, which would have muddied the flow of the conversation for anyone else who didn’t have the exact same people blocked that I did.

I never clicked on the “blocked messages” bars, the channel has since been deleted, and I haven’t looked at the screenshots being spread around, so I still have no idea what any of the blocked people said in that conversation.

As for the substance of the conversation - this isn’t an excuse for myself, but I was talking about the ethics of the presented issue the way I usually talk in ethics discussions, like a puzzle to be solved. I realize now that I should have...not done that. To the people I was actually talking to, I am genuinely sorry for the pain I caused by not being empathetic enough to the human/emotional side of the issue.

Some hours after the conversation peters out, a person I hadn’t blocked - but who was in the same loose friend group as the people I had blocked - comes into the channel and says that what I had said wasn’t appropriate.

I reach out to Ven to get a second opinion about it. She agrees, which is when I realize I fucked up.

While I am talking to Ven, one of the not-blocked people whom I’d actually been responding to in the conversation - who is Jewish - comes back in and basically clarifies what I’d intended to say on my behalf. (I did not ask them to do this, and I am grateful to them for doing it.)

Edit: I am aware that this person has just publicly disavowed their defense of me. I’m leaving in what I originally wrote, since I’m laying out the sequence of events and their post was part of the reason why I handled the situation the way I did at the time.

Ven advises me, and I agree, to leave it there, because this person has kindly already said what I would have said - and also because I reckoned that nothing I could have said would have actually satisfied the person who called me out, as they’d demonstrated consistent hostility toward me in all our interactions prior to this.

So I leave it there, the channel moves on, and I figure that’s that.

Fandom racism conversations continue, with multiple arguments happening in which the contingent of Top Joe Stans, including goldheartedsky, continue to deliberately use rude, insulting language and various fallacies in response to my and others’ requests to reconsider contributing to racist tropes about Marwan/Joe. In an argument about the content gap between types of stories and art produced between Joe and Nicky, one of them says outright that there is no content gap, citing the survey done by tog-resources in July.

I’d already been considering conducting a full survey of Joe/Nicky fic, but this spurs me on to actually do it. Ven and I start surveying, and publish our results in late February.

I won’t rehash that entire round of discourse here, but this is when the screenshots from A&M first appear and various people receive anons accusing me of being a TERF and antisemitic, etc. One of the anons contains enough circumstantial information for me to figure out that goldheartedsky is behind it, or at least part of it. This is my first indication that goldheartedsky was one of the blocked people in that conversation.

I decide to stay silent about the accusations because that seems like the high road to take, and because it feels like addressing them at all would lend credence to them.

The people throwing accusations around had either blocked me, or I had blocked them, so any words that I said about them wouldn’t have been taken in good faith anyway, especially after it got to bakedapplesauce.

Bakedapplesauce, who blocked me after receiving one of the longer anons, never contacted me to get my side of the story.

A while later, a third party contacts me to try to bring me and goldheartedsky together in a conversation to clear the air. I didn’t initiate this, but agreed to do it only if the third party acts as a go-between, 1) partly because I had just started a new job and was busy IRL so I didn’t think I could manage a conversation in real-time, but primarily 2) because then if screenshots of the conversation ever appeared in public, there could be no question as to who had done it. Goldheartedsky refuses this precaution, so I call it off.

So, that’s my side of the story. I don’t have screenshots because screenshots can be altered and taken out of context, and also because I just don’t do that shit. I regret that it’s gotten to this point, but since the February round of discourse, it always felt like there was no way for me to address the accusations without coming off as defensive or dismissive.

Also, until this round of discourse in June, no one had approached me about it in sincere concern. I’m only writing this post at all because this shit has now been splattered onto other people, including Jewish people who have to watch their generational pain be used as a shield and a derailing tactic to deflect from challenges to malicious, conscious racism. These anons only crop up when fandom tries to address racism, and only using hostile “gotcha” phrasing that makes clear they’re not actually concerned about antisemitism, they’re just trying to deflect. Well, they can try.

That being said, I do acknowledge and recognize that in that particular conversation, I was thoughtlessly callous about something that is gravely painful, and I should have known better. As I’ve said many times before, no one gets to declare by fiat that they’re “not a racist” because that’s not how cultural conditioning or implicit bias works, and it’s the same for antisemitism. I’m sincerely sorry for that and have been trying/will continue to try to do better.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Yo who it may concern,

I am writing to you in order to ask most kindly if you do not mind giving us (your loyal loving little crack addicts) a snippet of the next instalment of your OF fic, if you have one at the time.

Sincerely,

An (of fic) addict

Anon, I'm really honored by your enthusiasm, but alas, I don't really have anything written. I wrote something the night after I posted, but then decided I didn't like it. (And then I spent most of my time yesterday writing a different story that I probably won't ever post but I can't get it out of my head.)

So since you're the second person to ask, I'll post a small bit of the thing I did write Wednesday night, though I don't even know if it will go in the fic, because I originally wanted to bring in Robb, but now I don't know how he fits. I don't know how anything fits.

.

“Excuse me, can I get some service around here?”

Sansa whips around at the Northern accent and feels her smile split her face.

“Robb!” she squeals, launching herself half over the counter as best she can to wrap her arms around her brother. “You're early!”

“Eh, decided to fuck off of work a few hours early and head down,” he laughs as she disentangles herself and slides back to her feet.

“I told you I was working until five!” she pouts, looking down at her apron.

“And I figured I'd come and see you in action. I mean Sansa? Working? That I've gotta see,” he grins. “Now, get me some coffee, coffee... girl?”

“Barista,” she rolls her eyes at him and picks up a cup. “And just because you didn't have a job in college doesn't mean the rest of us won't. What do you want?”

“You have cold brew?” he asks, eyeing up their menu. She nods and begins to ring him up and he stares at her, open-mouthed. “I'm sorry, this isn't on the house?”

“Do I look like a charity?” she asks, and then waves her hand at the tip jar. “Also, you can leave a tip for excellent service.”

“I am your brother,” he gasps, offended, but he pulls out his wallet anyway and hands her the money.

“I was wondering who was making a ruckus out here,” Mya's voice says from behind her and Sansa turns to see her just coming out of the back room. “Brother. I guess I could also tell from the-” she gestures at her own hair and points at Robb's, which is just a few shades darker than Sansa's.

“Mya, this is Robb. Robb, Mya. He's visiting for the weekend.”

When Myranda arrives fifteen minutes later, as Robb is trying (unsuccessfully) to sweet talk Mya into giving him a free pastry, she sends Sansa home early. “We can handle it, it's so nice out, I doubt we'll be that busy tonight,” Myranda says as Sansa peels off her apron and hangs up her hat.

Myranda's right, it's gorgeous out, and Sansa sighs and tilts her face up to the sun when she and Robb leave the shop.

[agentrouka-blog]

When Jon think about wanting winterfell and it's Lord he felt hunger which he later connect with ghost's hunger. Do you think that passage is implying something?

Hi anon!

I think the passage has many layers when it comes to symbolism and foreshadowing.

ASOS, Jon XII is a fun chapter. Jon’s been through a lot. His trip North of the wall left him traumatized and disillusioned in a way that’s hard to sum up. Anything he had hoped to be proud of in life was obliterated, he suffered serious injury, has been separated from ghost, learned that all his family are dead or missing, fought a viciously cruel battle, feels responsible for the death of his stockholm-syndromy abuser, was stripped of all respect and honor by his superiors, and he got to see a woman die in childbirth. Now Stannis and Mel are squatting at Castle Black, and the threat to the North keeps looming.

Life sucks. 

We’d been introduced to some options that were denied to him in life:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. "It is a dream for spring, though," Lord Eddard had said. "Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on."

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father's name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. (ASOS, Jon V)

or

���If the boy shows any skill with sword or lance, he should have a place with your father’s household guard at the least,” Jon said. “It’s not unknown for bastards to be trained as squires and raised to knighthood. But you’d best be sure Gilly can play this game convincingly. From what you’ve told me of Lord Randyll, I doubt he would take kindly to being deceived.” (ASOS, Samwell IV)

One fails because of the seasons, the other was prevented by Catelyn. The Watch has been a soul-destroying nightmare, Ygritte’s offer of taking over a Tower “after” is not even worth a moment’s consideration to him. Every hope he ever had about his life has been disappointed. 

Jon’s just about sixteen and is completely done. Sam notes how much time Jon spends in the training yard, even though he’s injured and off-duty for the title of turncloak. He does not bother voting in the Lord Commander election. A maligned outcast again. Forever. 

The warg, I’ve heard them call me. How can I be a warg without a wolf, I ask you?” His mouth twisted. “I don’t even dream of Ghost anymore. All my dreams are of the crypts, of the stone kings on their thrones. Sometimes I hear Robb’s voice, and my father’s, as if they were at a feast. But there’s a wall between us, and I know that no place has been set for me.” (ASOS, Samwell IV

He is lonely. Even Ghost is gone, his one proof that he belongs to something.

Stannis alienates Jon by talking ill of Robb, but he offers Jon recognition for the things he did right, a rare thing, and then he offers him legitimization. Basically, “You proved your worth and you have the Right blood. All you ever wanted can be yours. For the small price of breaking your oaths for real and of your own volition and forsaking your gods.” Downright mephistophelian.

Jon is torn, can’t sleep, fights. For the first time he has a real choice. He remembers the traumatic incident where his bastardy became a true concept to him.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he’d taken. (ASOS, Jon XII)

And Jon’s response is a near black-out rage against his sparring partner. All his suppressed feelings of grief and anger and longing and loneliness are just broiling inside him.

Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

Jon soaks in the hot tub and thinks of Winterfell, mulls restoring it versus not belonging and destroying its soul in the process

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods

The tree is almost described like a person. A person with Tully coloring, like all his siblings save Arya. Like Sansa. The hot springs in Winterfell have a potential link to his decision to join the Watch, or at the very least to his siblings in general. The castle of Winterfell is juxtaposed with the heart, with the purpose and point of it all. Save a structure by destroying what made it a meaningful place? Betray his family in his heart, the person whose castle is truly is, betray all his values and his gods?

He takes a walk past sites of all his recent experiences and North the Wall over the recent battle field and just sits to think. 

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset. 

There’s an essay I could write about walls, Tyrion, Jon and Sansa (the sun to Arya’s moon) and how they all interact in the books, but let’s say just like this word play, the fact that Jon answers his own question is not an accident:

"Close your beak, crow. Spin yourself around, might be you'd find who you're looking for."

Jon turned.

The singer rose to his feet. (ASOS, Jon I)

The singer rose. Lyanna, his mother, the riddle. But also Sansa, who unwittingly took up her mantle. One unlocks his path to the other and everything that follows in his imagination:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

Jon paints a picture of recreating his own childhood with his wolf pack at Winterfell, only this time there are no outcasts, and he is the Father. He gets to be Ned. The Lord of Winterfell with a lady’s love. And a son, something he had, apparently, dreamed of until he stoppped. 

He has always wanted this thing that he has no right to and it filled him with a guilt strong enough to concern the gods. But he admits it to himself, lets himself truly feel it. The feeling flows through him the same way the rage did earlier. powerful and all encompassing. 

Like a dragonglass blade. There we have some lovely foreshadowing for a) potentiall the origin of the Others, b) Jon’s paternity, and c) his own death when his desire to abandon his vows and head to Winterfell is met with, you know, some blades. Not to mention d) his desire to have these things.

Each of these is answered by his primal hunger response. Which is of course, his connection to Ghost. The wolf he has so woefully said goodbye to, that he missed deeply and bitterly, chooses this moment to reappear. This moment where Jon returns to his own feelings, his true self.

a) the answer to the Others are the direwolves, the Starks, their magical connection to Winterfell and what happened way back when.

b) the answer to Jon’s paternity is a violent embrace of his mother’s side.

c) the answer to his own stabbing will be warging into Ghost and biding his time in there, becoming more wolf than he ever anticipated.

d) the answer to his heart’s desire...

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?” He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. “Ghost!” he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run. He was leaner than he had been, but bigger as well, and the only sound he made was the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath his paws. When he reached Jon he leapt, and they wrestled amidst brown grass and long shadows as the stars came out above them. “Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns.

Red suns. Arya’s wolf has golden coins (haggling for death, faceless men coins, spinning fates), Grey Wind has molten gold (like a crown that kills you). 

Jon’s wolf has red suns. Like the colors that the sun painted on the Wall. The direwolf in heart tree colors, inverted bastard colors of house Stark, Tully colors, Sansa colors. 

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

Not the red gods, not fire. The old gods. the heart tree, the wolves. He may be a Snow, but the old gods gave him Ghost. His own wolf. His white wolf. His place was made by their will. 

There is honor in that choice. No matter what anyone else says, Jon knows who he is and he has that power: to reject betraying his heart. 

How does this choice led by Ghost fit the layers?

a) The answer to the Others: don’t steal, don’t trick. Be honest. Accept what was painful. Not the Wall matters, the answer is in the heart tree.

b) The Dragon father does not Need to guide his decisions. He can let that go. He is a Snow.

c) Being in Ghost will lead him back to himself. Not fire, not Melisandre. The old gods.

d) Well... What does Jon want? What IS his answer?

Jon is filled with sudden energy. He strides back, rejects Val in his mind, stalks dramatically into the dining hall and is suddenly voted Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. We close on this:

So Jon Snow took the wineskin from his hand and had a swallow. But only one. The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.

Jon’s answer? We never hear it in this chapter. 

We hear it in ADWD, Jon I:

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." 

And ADWD, Jon IV:

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." 

The chapter is followed by? Sansa. Rebuilding Winterfell out of snow. 

When Jon lets go of pretense, honestly asks himself what he wants, shame or not, his wolf takes over and helps him find the answer and the path. The answer is not in taking the Castle and creating a mimicry of what it was, it is in honoring what it truly was and truly means. The heart over the structure. 

And in giving supremacy to the heart, to the red-white heart, he unknowingly paves the way for his own place: Winterfell built of Snow. He doesn’t have to steal the castle, he will be invited to belong.

That’s my own humble interpretation, anyway.

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

Can you write the whole RFA of its not to difficult please. If that is to hard can you do Jumin, Zen, and Jaehee please. For an S/O who flinches at quick movement around them like they will get hit. No one had ever hit on purpose it’s just an instinct from having high anxiety. I do that personally and it drives my family nuts. If I could control it I would.

Hello! Thank you for your request, lovely anon. I understand how you feel, I’m the same with loud noises. Honestly I bug could fly past my ear and I’ll jump three feet in the air no joke hahaha. I decided to write these as scenarios as it just seemed more appropriate, I hope they’re okay!

***

RFA with an MC who flinches easily

Yoosung:

“Yoosung, I did it! I passed!”

You came bursting through the door and Yoosung sprung out of his chair, almost tripping over it in his haste to get to you. Your eyes were beaming as you held the exam paper that you were convinced you had failed, and Yoosung’s heart melted and relief washed over him.

You had studied day and night for that exam, and Yoosung had to tell you to go to take it easy on more than one occasion. He understood how important this exam was for you, of course he did. He was also a college student, after all. But you had been losing your spark and it tore him apart from the inside out to see your light dim.

But boy the spark was back, and it was roaring. You both sat at his dining table as he scanned over the document, his mouth dropping over one particular section.

You had got an A.

You didn’t just pass, you got the highest grade and he thought he was going to combust with pride. That’s his girl.

“MC! This is absolutely amazing! You’re incredible,” he cried, raising his arm up swiftly for a high five.

The arm dropped just as quickly when he saw you flinch away from him.

His mind instantly started racing, his blood boiling. Who the fuck had hit you? Who made you so afraid of an innocent high five?  He was going to kill-

“Yoosung, it’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn't mean to do that, it’s just an instinct. You know how I’m always getting spooked by stupid things, it’s like that. Please don't worry, I’m fine.”

You continued to explain and he eventually he understood, and also made a note to try and find more calm ways of expressing his excitement with you. He couldn't bare the thought of you being afraid around him.

Jaehee:

You and Jaehee were cleaning up the dishes after breakfast whilst discussing your plans for the day. It had been the first nice day in weeks, and you both knew you had to do something, go out somewhere. But the problem was, you had been at home for so long that you couldn't decide on where to go.

The weather didn't look great for the following weeks either, so you wanted to do something special, but nothing sprung to mind. A crease formed between Jaehee’s eyebrows as she considered the options intently. Cinema, park, shopping-

Then she had a light-bulb moment.

She was so overcome with excitement that she span around to face you quickly enough that she almost missed how you jumped and turned your face away from her.

But she didn't miss it.

Jaehee’s eyes instantly widened as she started to apologise, but you were very quick to turn it down and explained that you were just always on edge due to your anxiety. It was nothing she or anyone else had done, it was just the way you were.

New plan: spa day.

Jaehee felt that you probably needed a relaxing day, and tried to make it a regular thing for you both in the hopes it would ease your nerves.

Zen:

You and Zen were walking hand-in-hand through the local park, arms swaying slightly as you observed the scenes around you. It was a gorgeous day, and it was strangely nice to see the usually desolate park brimming with energy.

A young boy coyly approached you two, a notebook and pen in hand. He had scuffed up knees and a bandaid on his elbow, and he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact as you both smiled kindly at him, encouraging him to continue.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr Zen…sir, but um…if you wouldn't mind please could sign my notebook? But if you’re too busy I completely understand-!”

Zen chuckled fondly at him, “Don’t be silly, of course I can! What’s your name, buddy?”

You and Zen exchanged looks, a silent conversation that only the two of you could understand. You gave him some space to have a proper conversation with the boy, whilst you went to pet a dog you had spotted moments before.

After the boy had ran back to his mother, a note from Zen in his hand and a grin on his face, Zen noticed a tennis ball on the floor. Picking it up he scanned the park, but couldn't find a notable owner. However, he did see you approaching, waving excitedly.

He couldn't help but smile at you, and a little idea popped into his mind.

“Hey, MC, catch!”

Before you had time to process what he said, Zen threw the ball in your direction. Instinctively, you coiled away and hid your face, a gasp escaping your lips. Luckily, the ball fell just in front of you.

To some, you may have just seemed dramatic or pathetic, but Zen knew you better than that. He was by your side in a flash, “Oh my God, MC I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking I just-“

“No, Zen it’s okay! You don't need to apologise, you haven't done anything wrong. I've always been like that, it’s just a weird response I’ve developed. You really don't need to worry.”

He listened carefully whilst you told him more, but still felt bad so he bought you ice cream and promised to give you a heads up next time.

Jumin:

Sitting opposite each other on his balcony, you and and Jumin enjoyed a quiet breakfast in the sun. It was his day off, so you both decided to have a slow, easy-going morning. You both had lie-in and cuddled before eventually dragging yourselves out of bed, both your rumbling stomachs indicating that it was probably time to start the day.

Jumin made pancakes, of course, whilst you cut fruit and made tea for the both of you. The quietness between the both of you was comfortable and pleasant, setting the perfect mood for Jumin’s well needed day off.

Jumin felt perfectly tranquil as he watched your face as you looked over the city, eyes darting from building to building. He found you truly fascinating, and always wondered how you found beauty and wonder in everything you saw.

As he watched you he noticed a fly buzzing around your head, which you hadn't seemed to have acknowledged yet. He didn't want it to break you out of your trance, so he took matters into his own and went to swat the bug away. However, you snapped out of it as he went to do so and instantly covered your face with a small yelp.

Jumin halted, his arm still in the air. The only thing that was racing through his head was confusion, mixed with concern, “My love? What is it?”

You let out a small sigh, the tips of your ears turning a subtle rose colour, “Oh, it’s nothing…Sorry, I couldn't help it. I just panicked for a moment-“

Now it was time for Jumin’s heart rate to pick up, “My God, MC I would never-“

“No no Jumin I know you wouldn’t, you've never done anything to make me believe you would either. It was just instinct, it’s because of my anxiety…”

Whilst he understood, Jumin was still concerned. Was your anxiety really so extreme that you were even on edge when he was there?

You continued your quiet day in, but Jumin also suggested that you talk to a professional about your anxiety. There was a limit to how safe he could make you feel on his own, and he hated thinking that you felt the need to be prepared for the worst at any given moment.

Saeyoung:

“Saeyoung, I’m home.”

Saeyoung heard you toss your keys on the kitchen table and the front door click shut. He knew your routine now: you would then hang your coat up, kick your shoes off, go to the bedroom, find a hoodie or sweatshirt of his, put it on and then find him to kiss him hello.

Once you had put on your hoodie of choice, you called out to him but he was nowhere to be seen. You assumed he had gone out to the store down the road, so you decided to sit in the living room and wait for him to get back.

Except, Saeyoung was in the house. He was just hiding.

He had tucked himself behind the door of the living room, preparing to pounce at you the moment you walked in. He had an incredibly boring and frustrating day without you, so he wanted to have a little fun when he finally had you to himself.

He heard your soft footsteps grow louder as you padded towards where he was. As soon as he caught a glimpse of your form, he lunged towards you with a loud “RAR”. He aimed to wrap his arms round you and laugh with you, but he was in for a surprise when he found you on the floor. Your face was buried in the crook of your elbow, your other arm held up in the air defensively.

Saeyoung dropped to floor beside you, carefully reaching his arm out for you, “MC, it’s me! It’s Saeyoung, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you this much. Are you okay?”

You slowly recovered from the ordeal, letting out a chuckle as Saeyoung apologised profusely in a panic. You gently shushed him, “Saeyoung, Saeyoung, it’s fine. Sae-SAEYOUNG,” you finally caught his attention, laughing again at the worry written all over his face. You knew he meant no harm.

“I’m absolutely fine, I promise. I’m just constantly on high-alert, I’ve been like that since I was little. I know you were just having fun, and I know you would never hurt me, so don't look so concerned you silly tomato,” you said with a small smile and a wink.

Jumpscaring then became a Saeran-only-prank.

V:

You and V often enjoyed to paint together when you had a free afternoon. You both had your own set ups in the living room, two easels stood proudly next to the large window that overlooked your well-kept garden.

Today, V finished his painting before you, and glanced over to find you lost in concentration, your eyebrows knitting together and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip.

V’s chest bubbled with adoration as he studied your features, noting every small quirk and mannerism of yours. He quickly decided he wanted to sketch you like this, even if it was quick and rough, he just wanted to capture this moment in the hopes that one day you would see it and see yourself through his eyes.

He was about halfway through his sketch when he glanced up again, noticing that you had picked up the pace and were painting more rapidly, more expressively than before. The way you moved so swiftly and gracefully left him in awe, but he also saw how you misjudged one movement in your concentration, knocking the glass of paint-water with your elbow.

V clocked it before it started to tilt off the side of the table, moving to catch it easily before it could hit the floor. However, his movement was so rapid that you couldn't control the way you flinched away from him or the yelp that escaped your lips.

Before you even had time to explain, V was spurting out apology after apology, and you even noticed the glisten of unshed tears that started to fill his eyes.

“Oh my God, MC, if I’ve ever done anything to make you think I would…I’m so sorry, please, I would never even think about-“

“Oh Jihyun, of course you haven't done anything, and of course I know that you wouldn’t. You’ve been nothing but kind and gentle towards me. This is just something that I picked up when I was young, nobody knows why, it’s absolutely not your fault. In fact, it’s happened so much less since I’ve been with you, so if anything you've helped me.”

The poor man was still pretty shaken up after that, but he could see where you were coming from. He was pretty jumpy himself, to be honest, so he made an effort to make your shared home as tranquil as he could after that day,

He also suggested meditation, which actually ended up helping you both a little bit.

Saeran:

Arguments weren't uncommon for the two of you, and you actually knew to expect that before you became a couple. He’d spent most of his life not having his own voice, so it was natural that he wasn't practised in expressing his wants and needs in the best way all the time. You helped him with this, and he improved very quickly.

Today’s argument was a tad more heated though.

You both had a rough day, so your tolerance for each other was particularly low. He was angry because you had spent the day with Zen, and you were angry because the reason you were with Zen was because he had hit a rough patch in his career and needed support. Basically, he was upset because he couldn't see you, and you were upset because he was upset. You were also upset because you seeing your friends struggle and hurt had its toll on you, and all you needed right now was your boyfriend’s affection and support. But instead, he was yelling at you which only raised your anxiety-level.

Your own anxiety was not something you had discussed with him, since Saeran had only recently recovered and you didn’t want him to have something else to worry about. You knew he needed to know, Saeyoung told you so too, but you just never found a good time to bring it up.

But now it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

Saeran still found it hard to control his emotions, and sometimes said things he didn’t mean when he got especially worked up, like today. His voice rose higher and higher, until something in him snapped.

“If you care about him so much why don’t you just go be his girlfriend instead,” he growled, throwing his arm to point at the door behind you.

The scream ripped through apartment as you crouched on the floor, hugging yourself with one arm and shielding yourself with the other.

Saeran was frozen in place as he looked down at your crumpled form, completely paralysed by your reaction. Saeyoung rushed into the room and was by your side in an instant, having clearly been listening to your argument and readying himself to intervene should things escalate. Which, apparently they did.

Finally understanding the situation, Saeran forcefully tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, “Jesus Christ, MC. I didn’t…I wouldn’t…I’m sorry I-“

“Saeran, it’s okay. I know you weren't going to hit me. I just…it’s hard to explain.”

“Please — if you don't mind —please explain. I…I want to understand, I want to help…”

You agreed and all three of you sat together on the couch, though Saeran was suddenly aware of his every movement.

You reassured him, he apologised. You both explained properly why you were upset in the first place. You both understood each other.

It was a horrible situation for you both, but you were both stronger for it.

***

I’m sorry if these are all a bit similar, but I hope they were what you were looking for! Take care anon and thank you again for the request! <33

Masterlist

[zirkkun]

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

[truerescreatuconfessions]

The past few days have been like a slap in the face so I'm sorry but I'm have to say this. I apologize to everyone but this is going to be long. I am aware that Pat will probably never see this post so it's pointless, but I have to say it anyway.

First, I'm going to start with a positive. Thank you to Lilith for being brave enough to pass on that anon message to Pat. Thank you also to Burrito for giving us a place to voice our concerns where they can't be shut down, whether Pat chooses to listen or not.

Now to business. I'll start with you Pat, on the off chance that you'll someday read this somehow. As people have said, no one is complaining about your recolor OAK. Please stop trying to turn it to that because it's not that. What we are complaining about is the absolute silence with which Dan received not one but 6 OAKs. The fact that many people on staff had no idea this was an option while Rumor, who I'll get to in a bit, also got one. I have spoken to many staff and ex-staff and not a single one of them knew that OAKs were ever part of staff pay or rewards. The ones I've spoken to also hadn't ever heard of this OAK test in any way. The way it was handled with Dan covering it up and saying "we were testing to see if there was interest" was clearly him backpedaling and now it just sounds like people are just rushing around to cover his ass. I don't have to repeat what at least a dozen people have said on this blog but I will. You don't gauge interest by quietly adding a dozen OAKs to the site and saying "oh, if someone finds them completely by accident then people are interested, otherwise no one cares." You gauge interest by posting a poll, by asking people in a place where everyone can voice it, and by making it front-and-center. I know you said you aren't talking about the subject anymore, but you skirted around the sheer number of OAKs Dan got by pretending we didn't say anything about them.

About the bans you claim "never happened." There is screenshot evidence from Kina, dozens and dozens of them, that Dan cheated for her and others. Ok, screenshots can be doctored, what about the video she sent in? Was that also doctored? If those right there aren't compelling enough evidence to ban Dan, why were four people banned for screenshots? Hell, Zuzu, Shinigami, and Shinohara were all banned for speculating that Dan was cheating during the name clearing. Zuzu was allowed to return, the other three were not. What rules did they break? Did they cheat? No, they talked, exactly like you constantly encourage us to do, about how they felt and what they thought was going on. They were banned. So please Pat, never tell us that "no one is banned for voicing an opinion" because that is categorically untrue.

You might tell us there are other reasons behind the scenes. Ok, let's say that's true. Why were they banned within a day or so of those screenshots coming to light? Why was that the catalyst moment? No one else was banned and unless they had a secret cheating ring with exactly 0 other people involved it sure sounds like those screenshots were the reason.

Also please never say Dan doesn't give special treatment to people. Rumor has been banned multiple times for cheating and abusing staff tools. He still gets an OAK. Omni is a known hacker, still enjoying the site like nothing ever happened. Juke was literally banned for running a hate blog, which is still active when anyone is brave enough to post on it, currently not only back but on staff.

When Rumor was banned, he got to move all his pets to Dan's account and they were kindly returned when he was allowed back on the site. Kina also moved all her pets before she was banned but that was determined to be "unfair" and "not allowed" so they were all returned to her account. Then a conveniently-timed name clearing happened.

Let's look at that name clearing for a second. Dan repeatedly and constantly told us that he was busy and didn't have time to refresh on the site all day for the clearing. Amazingly, he was online for every single clearing. Every last one of them. The odds of that are astronomical when you consider he claims he sleeps, eats, goes out with friends, and works 8 hours a day. He also got tons of incredible, high-value names. These facts are the reason Hell and the rest suspected him of cheating in the first place and honestly that seems like a fair assumption.

You say we need to speak up, but we did. Half a dozen people on that discord said they felt horrible about something and you basically swept it under the rug by saying "oh, it took longer than planned and we didn't say anything publicly but it'll be there soon I promise. Now never speak to me about this again and I refuse to respond anymore." There's been no information anywhere on Res about anything regarding this other than a quick post Dan made only after he was called out multiple times for the number of OAKs he suddenly had.

A minor complaint that I've seen a dozen times on the SB is that new items keep getting quietly released so anyone that does quests suddenly finds themselves failing them because they don't have the items stocked up. Honestly makes me happy I don't waste time with quests. Maybe one or two items doesn't warrant a full update, but isn't that exactly what the changelog is for? For minor additions, fixes, updates, etc?

Another minor complaint I've heard from a few sources is that people continue to spam the SB with copy paste from the site. There was even a forum post about it that no staff addressed, unless that's changed since I last checked. I've seen it happen constantly while staff are on the SB with no policing of it. Why should users listen to this rule, which was added because enough people complained about it happening, when staff don't bother to uphold it?

Now to Rumor. His latest blog honestly boils my blood in so many ways. If his real information was given out and doxxed then that is absolutely disgusting and I do not stand for that. No one deserves it. I am starting this section by saying that because I want to make it clear that it's not ok that that happened, if it did. That doesn't mean I like him or agree with any other part of that blog.

Yes, I'm sure he worked long hours as a CM. You know who else did? Gunmetal, Dess, a bunch of other CMs. Someone else? All the artists, all the support and mods, all the writers. His blog makes it sound like it was just him putting in the hours and that it was purely his idea about all those events. Remember, before we got to a point where staff didn't know what was going on with events because no staff talk, staff used to all contribute together to events. Or maybe they didn't, I don't know, but they at least knew what was going on so I assume they had some input. I remember a time when asking on the SB about an event with staff around, regardless of their position, meant you could get an answer. Nowadays we have staff that have less idea than the users what's going on with an event. Staff like development, who you would assume would know everything about the event that they helped create, or mods, who should probably at least get an overview of the event if they're going to be able to help users.

Speaking of other staff helping with events. Is Rumor pretending he wrote every piece of those events on his own? Why are no writers mentioned anywhere in his list of people that spent many long hours working? He obviously can't pretend he drew everything for the event, but is he implying he wrote everything?

You say people on that list are "deserving" of OAKs Rumor. Schemes has been staff for almost no time compared to some of the old staff that you decided didn't deserve listing. Juke was banned and then unbanned, obviously more deserving than the ex-staff that still frequent the site and have never been in trouble.

Now let's turn to the thing that made me want to scream. You say to "just speak up" more. I've seen at least 8 different people, off the top of my head, told to "stop talking about it" in the SB when they voice a concern and it goes on longer than one or two sentences. Not a single one of the people I'm thinking of was being rude or starting something, they were trying to express themselves and basically being told to shut up. Often they're told to "take it to the forums" which works about as well as just saying it out loud in a room alone. No one reads the forums. Or at least very few people. Staff never responds to suggestions, not staff that can make those changes anyway, mods do sometimes and rarely an artist. Posting in the suggestions forum is like yelling into the void and hoping the void yells back. The absolute only way to be heard in the suggestion forum is advertising it nonstop on the SB and even that barely gets any staff looking.

You say this lack of communication is the reason many people have quit? Yes, that's very true, the exact opposite way you imply. People have left the site often because their feelings are silenced and their opinions completely ignored. No one reads their posts, staff don't respond to them except to tell them they're wrong or to tell them to stop talking about things, and their friends get banned for nothing while staff are allowed to continue cheating with no consequences. So you're right about that, people do leave over the lack of communication, but it's the lack of communication and understanding from staff that drives them away.

I know Pat will probably never see this, but if he does, or if someone is brave enough to link it, maybe he'll hear it. At this point considering his reactions to the people that are trying so very hard to make their voices heard on the Discord I doubt it but I can always hope.

[tymptir]

curious anon / strange question: which of your muses would you say is the manliest man? :>

ngl I was tempted to say Dacey Mormont initially .  .  . honestly nonnie, I love that question? I’ve been giggling to myself since I got it, but I gotta admit it’s a really tough one and I’m still not 100% about it. so let me preface this by saying that naturally all of my men are manly in their very own ways and all of them also have very feminine sides as I think everyone does and should because hey, fuck gender normativity, right? also I’m entirely aware that everyone has a different definition of “manly” so this is .  .  . well, my personal take on my personal blog which I imagine is what you’re looking for.

personally I’d say the manliest man amongst my muses is Harrion Karstark.

Harrion is a machine of a man, very tall, barrel-chested, beard, long thick hair, your typical lumberjack type who is not all too concerned with aesthetics but still looks beautiful in a rugged way. he’s the type who will almost break his back working hard all day and then just crave a cold beer at the end of the day. he snores. loudly. he is hands-on with everything, doesn’t really have an ego, he is incredibly protective, too. but he is also the definition of a human teddy bear. he’s not afraid to show emotion, he’ll hug and cuddle people, he adores the shit out of his little sister, his family is everything to him, he’s honest, upstanding, honorable, and loyal. he can apologize and self-reflect. he’ll also break your face in if you manage to piss him off. he laughs, he cries, he rages, he loves, eats 3 tons of food a day, but knows how to use cutlery. he’s the guy who’d smash his head into the face of the Lannister soldiers dragging him to Harrenhal but at the same time he’s the guy who sat and talked kindly with a crippled Bran when others were making fun of him .  .  . yep, I think he’s my manliest muse. and I love and adore him to bits in case that wasn’t obvious before.

[crystillyzed]

any queries?

how do i request?

first and foremost, please read the fandoms, what i will and will not write, and the associated masterlist to see who i write for. once you know what you want to request, give me a scenario and specify for me to write a drabble, imagine, or headcanon. if you request off anon and i don’t understand your request, i’ll contact you through dms for clarification. should you not specify what type of writing you want, i’ll write it however i feel. and if your request falls under what i do not write, i will delete it.

for jujutsu kaisen, i am not completely caught up on the manga, i will update the masterlist and characters once i am caught up.

for nijisanji, i only know luxiem. and do expect lots of shu and vox. i’d like to try writing noctyx and iluna but i don’t keep up with everyone (including the rest of en) as much as them.

for genshin, i am completely caught up on the archon quests.

have you read my ask / request?

i may not respond to your ask or to your request but there is a chance that i have seen it and have either: a.) did not have the time to respond b.) did not know how to respond, thus saving it for the future c.) relates to another request / ask, might’ve been already answered d,) just didn’t want to respond at the time e.) deleted it, most likely on accident f.) tumblr ate it

commissions?

i appreciate that you’re willing to further support me with money, but i will not be taking commissions until further notice as i’m just sharing whatever my head came up with for free.

do you write on other platforms?

i may crosspost content on ao3 (crystillyzed) and wattpad (luciphany), nowhere else. i’ll also post oc x canon content with my own ocs exclusively on either two platforms.

posting schedule?

due to me being a student and being an entire mess in general, i do not have a schedule. everything i post will be spontaneous or i will post a heads up / preview prior to posting the entire thing. in the end, it also depends on how motivated i’m feeling to write.

part 2?

i understand the feeling of wanting a part 2 of something, but i will not guarantee a sequel unless i feel like the writing either can be continued / concluded in a sequel or i like the writing so much that i want to write a sequel to it.

what type of blog is this?

this is a side blog for my brain rot! i decided to make it that due to me being mostly on my main blog and on my phone since i normally don’t use my laptop that much. plus, i didn’t want to bear with switching between three blogs on my phone. tumblr really needs to implement an update or something to allow users to switch accounts without having to log out.

also, if you did come from my kpop blog and you’re reading this, now you know why i’ve been absent.

will you share your main?

my main blog is also my personal blog. even though i just reblog whatever i see on my feed. i will not freely share my main to anyone, same applies to my discord as i’m active on those two platforms as well. however, if you do want to talk with me more not on this blog, please know that you have to let me gain your trust in order to give you either account.

how do you handle drama?

if you have not read my byf (which you should), i do not take kindly to any sort of discourse and drama. i have and will always keep this blog a safe place for myself and any readers from any chaos. should you come to my blog bringing any personal drama on anon, ESPECIALLY if you try to drag me into it, i will merely delete your ask. if you tag me into drama and try to get me involved, i will talk it over with the parties involved if necessary. i will get involved into drama ONLY IF IT ACTUALLY CONCERNS ME. if it does, do NOT defend me. only i alone can speak my mind as i know it best.

[langdxn]

This has haunted me ever since you sent it, thank you so much anon! I hope you don’t mind, I’ve used this opportunity to make a second part of a Xavier prompt I’ve been meaning to follow up for ages that @frenchlangdon​ requested. I probably didn’t find the exact cover you were talking about but I’ve listened to 10 covers and they’re just as creepy as the next!

Read part one here!

For a man as outgoing as Xavier, watching from the shadows was an uncomfortable character shift. However necessary under the circumstances, he hated the secrecy, the lack of intimacy, the inability to reach out and catch you by the elbow, spin you around and crash his lips into yours.

Death changed him. Or more specifically, Margaret changed him. The man who used to plant soft, loving kisses at the nape of your neck became a sinister, immovable force for evil. The lover who cradled you in the afterglow of lovestruck 4am headboard-snapping sessions became a nocturnal fiend that crept into your bed in the early hours, dried blood flaking onto the sheets.

Now, that same man, that same lover, concealed himself behind a tree, watching from afar as you wandered down to the lake, boombox balancing on your shoulder as you played one of your favourite tunes from long before the horrors of Redwood. The foreboding tones of The Police radiated from the speakers as you passed through the thick forest.

Every breath you take and every move you make

“She deserves to be happy,” a warm male voice came from behind Xavier, making him flinch and spin on his heels. A tall, stocky man stood behind him, looking on with concern etched on his face.

“Fuck, Jingles, I thought you were the Lady in Whi—well, your mother,” Xavier sighed in relief, a palm resting on his chest to calm himself.

Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you

“Do I sound like my mother to you?” Jingles stifled a chuckle under his breath, stepping closer to stand beside him.

“What do you want anyway, following me into the woods?” Xavier returned his gaze to you, placing your boombox at the end of the boardwalk and perching over the edge, feet dangling into the water below.

Every single day and every word you say

“When I gave you a place to hide away from the other counsellors and that lady, I didn’t realise you’d come back here so quickly.”

“What’s it got to do with you?” Xavier scrunched his forehead, lips pursed tightly.

Every game you play, every night you stay, I’ll be watching you

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Jingles folded his arms. “But it’s got a lot to do with her over there.”

Idly swinging your legs over the dock, you ran a hand through your hair and sent shivers up Xavier’s spine — you used to weave your fingers through his hair just the same.

Oh, can’t you see you belong to me

“Don’t,” Xavier snapped, a firm hand pressed into the air between them. “Don’t pretend you understand, I’m nothing like you.”

“Maybe so, Xavier, but I’ve seen that look before. That look that says you know she deserves better but you can’t bring yourself to let her go.”

How my poor heart aches with every step you take

“Yeah,” Xavier muttered resolutely, a despondent curve crept across his mouth as he crossed his arms to mirror Benjamin. “Maybe you’re right.”

“So go to her.”

“Are you crazy? She hates me,” he spat through clenched teeth, watching with an ache in his chest as you leaned back on your palms, drinking in the burning sunset bouncing off the lake. “There’s no going back, not after what I did.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to find out how she feels now, would it? You’ve been hiding out with me for months, maybe she’s had time to think about it.”

Xavier sighed heavily, resigning himself to observing you for another endless amount of months.

Every move you make, and every vow you break

“What exactly did you do that was so bad, anyway?”

“Spent more time with my ex than her. Brutally murdered a counsellor for looking at her. You know, the usual.”

Benjamin sucked his teeth tentatively.

“Could be worse.”

“You think?” Xavier huffed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I’ll be watching you

“You can’t run from her all your afterlife, Plympton. Go to her, rip off the band-aid. I’ll wait here if you need to come back to the other side.”

Swallowing hard, an unmistakable lump in his throat, Xavier dropped his arms and conceded. Treading tentatively down through the woods, he brushed bleach blonde streaks away from his face as he neared the dock.

Since you’ve gone I’ve been lost without a trace

His heartbeat thundered so loud in his ears, he didn’t notice the footfalls of another person heading to the water until a glimpse of dirtied white sneakers just ahead of him stopped Xavier in his tracks. Eyes following the shoes up to the bare legs carrying them, his gaze shot up to find the owner - Chet Clancy. Luckily for him, the Olympian paced determinedly toward the boardwalk and didn’t spot Xavier lurking in the shadows. Breaths hitched in his throat, Xavier froze to watch his friend walking toward you.

As Chet’s footsteps pounded on the wooden path, you turned to see him approaching and beamed from ear to ear, a warm smile spreading across your perfect lips. Xavier couldn’t bring himself to blink, dread filling his heart as Chet dropped to the edge of the boardwalk beside you, bare legs dangling off the edge.

I dream at night, I can only see your face

Chet said something to you that Xavier couldn’t make out, his lips moving too subtly except as he ended his sentence with a grin. You laughed heartily, dipping your head onto his shoulder affectionately.

Xavier’s heart dropped like a stone in the lake.

I look around but it’s you I can’t replace

Wrapping an arm over your shoulders, Chet leaned into you and drew you in for a soft kiss. A hot sensation burned at Xavier’s cheeks, fury brimming in his eyes beside searing tears as he clenched his jaw tightly. Your lips locked with Chet’s as if you were two pieces of a jigsaw made for each other, slotting together perfectly.

I feel so cold and I long for your embrace

In an erratic attempt to justify his actions, Xavier shook his head desperately and balled his hands into fists by his side. If he had only moved toward you sooner, none of this would’ve happened. Chet wouldn’t have reached you before he could.

How long had this been going on? How long had you spent mourning the loss of Xavier before you moved on with his best friend? Maybe he should’ve let Chet die in the spike pit all those years ago. He could never have predicted that his trusted friend would steal his girl.

I keep crying, “Baby, baby, please”

Xavier’s sights locked on Chet’s hand wandering with purpose down your back, ghosting over your shirt as his fingertips followed the trail of your spine to the waistband of your shorts. As his fingers tucked under the denim and journeyed south, Xavier clamped his eyes shut, turning away in agony unable to face whatever happened next.

He had waited too long.

Oh, can’t you see you belong to me

A curt slap of skin against skin and frantic stamping feet on the boardwalk startled him back to look at the dock, discovering you running toward the forest with your boombox swinging in your hand, tears tumbling from your cheeks. Chet sat dumbstruck at the edge of the dock, rubbing his cheek and staring helplessly at you running away.

How my poor heart aches with every step you take

As you neared the woods, Xavier paced determinedly toward you, stepping out of the shadows and into your path as you hurried back to camp.

Barely seeing Xavier’s pastel-clad form ahead of you through your tears, you dropped your boombox at your side and tumbled into his open arms.

Every move you make and every vow you break

As you sobbed frantically into his chest, flooding tears soaking his shirt, Xavier wrapped his arms around you tightly with his fingertips digging trenches into your bare shoulders.

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you,” he reassured you, planting longing, comforting kisses on the crown of your head.

Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I’ll be watching you

“I—I’m so sorry, Xavier,” you wailed through stuttering breaths. “I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t just move on.”

“I know baby, I know,” he cooed softly, idly stroking your hair. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Every move you make, every step you take, I’ll be watching you

“I’ve missed you, you idiot,” you slapped his chest playfully, earning a lighthearted ‘ow’ in response. “Where the fuck were you?”

I’ll be watching you

“It doesn’t matter,” he hummed into your hair, glancing back to the woods to see Benjamin in the shadows, smiling kindly before turning to walk away. “I won’t be going back there.”

[wild-pineapple-butt]

u say chemistry is important then u ship renji with nnoitra & aizen ?

Hello dear anon,

Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to send me this pleasant message. I’m going to sound INCREDIBLY SNARKY and I realize and acknowledge that. For that, I will apologize. But I will not apologize for doing things as I please on my own blog.

I’ve already addressed issues like this in the past, but perhaps you might not have seen that. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But instead of coming to me and perhaps discussing this with me like a decent person, no you choose to send an anon and be rude in doing so.

In case you missed it. FIRSTLY, it is my choice to ship MY MUSE with whomever I well please. SECONDLY, not all the interactions I have with Nnoitra/Aizen’s mun are on tumblr. Which means you don’t see what’s going on behind the scenes. There’s a lot of development that takes place in the IMs, on Discord, namely not on the dash. THIRDLY, Nnoitra and Renji have been interacting since nearly a year go. Youre basing my ships upon canon material and if ya missed it, I'm canon divergent. Literally we have spent hours fleshing over this ship. It's not like they're fucking within 2 interactions. What even is the point of RP if you're judging my writing based upon canon material? LASTLY, I don’t know what your point is by sending this message other than being rude asf. So I won’t hold back and tell you how I feel.

So I IMPLORE of you, please do your research before you come barking at me and pointing accusatory fingers. It’s really shitty to receive messages like this, y’know? Surely, you wouldn’t receive stuff like this kindly either.

With that being said!! You can either come to me off anon and talk to me about this issue, and I can address any questions, specific concerns you have. Or you can continue hiding behind anon. Your choice :) 

Have a good day, anon. Because despite your choice in sending this ask, I don’t wish you harm, nor ill will. I hope you don’t send these malicious asks anymore.

- Rishi