#I’m not deleting anything I’ve written but I am Disgusted

[snailpaste]

Hi! This is my first time requesting, so am kinda nervous to request!

Can I get Shanks x HalfDragon! Male reader? Or gn reader if you prefer that more, like they were secretly childhood best friends then got separated when HalfDragon! Male reader got captured by the Marines? (He was too weak that day) then few years pass and they meet again? Like Shanks found him all chained up on a island that belongs to the Marines (is there any island that belongs to the Marines??) and considered as dangerous?

Fluff and angst too pls!!

(Sorry if am not making any sense, English not my first language)

(Also, if you're uncomfortable with this, ignore it or delete it! I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable with me :D)

Shanks x Dragon! Male Reader

CONTENT: SFW, gen fic (can be read platonically or romantically), imprisonment, kidnapping, child neglect, male reader, dragon reader (like seraphim)

AN: I hear ya I hear ya. I’ve never written for anything remotely anthropomorphic before. This took so long I'm so sorry 💀 if you're still around I hope you like it (:

The Roger Pirates had been laying low for a few months, wandering about in the South Blue following a particularly high-profile rendezvous with an Admiral, when they drew in to dock at Bakemono Island.

It was here that you were found, sneaking up on, and stealing from, a tipsy Crocus. You’d nearly made it out the door too, cloak pulled tight over your shoulders, the rowdy drunken cheers of the crew providing a great distraction… until a firm hand clasped around your elbow and tugged you back. You spun around in shock, coming face-to-face with a red-haired boy roughly your own age, and a looming figure above.

You froze seeing his expression morph into one of shock, mentally preparing for him to be disgusted or angered by your eyes, the smattering of scales across your skin, your slightly pointed teeth, but his gaze only softened.

But the first things Shanks noticed were the cuts and scrapes covering you, evidence of the resentment and fear the locals had. You clearly hadn’t bathed in weeks (the lake long since frozen over in the harsh winter) and your lips were purple and trembling from the bitter night air. Bruises littered your skin, some fresh and some yellow.

Before you could run off again, Shanks had frantically called over a tall blond man. Rayleigh had looked down at you from behind shanks, immediately noticing the wallet clasped in your shaking hands, but his annoyance at a brat -And hell, you must’ve been no older than what, five?- stealing from his crew was quickly dulled when he saw your face. Any scolding died in his throat, and he gently forced you down into a chair, sliding you a bowl of stew with a simple demand, “eat.”

Courtesy of Shanks’s incessant probing, you reluctantly admitted you had no family or caregivers. Hearing this, Rayleigh and Roger had all but decided you were to become a member of their crew, a proposition you agreed to so quickly you accidentally choked on the bread roll you were given. The night had gone well after that, the crew didn’t ask questions, too tipsy or busy with terrible karaoke to bother, and once things had subdued you were brought aboard the Oro Jackson. 

You were carried to a small cabin by Rayleigh, barely awake. He tucked you into a comfortable hammock where you fell asleep feeling secure for the first time in your life.

That sense of tranquillity was lost the second you woke up.

A boy your own age grinned down with bright red eyes and equally shocking hair, interrupting your startled scream with a chirpy “Hey! I’m Shanks. Who- no don’t scream you’ll wake the clown- who’re you? Whatcha doin’ here? I like your… scales? And your eyes! And-”

From that moment on Shanks became a permanent fixture in your life, whether by your own volition or not, and while a little overwhelming for an orphaned social outcast to begin with, the redhead quickly became your best friend. Shanks, and the rest of the crew, helped you come out of your shell

Over time the two of you more or less became a packaged deal— wherever you went, the crew knew Shanks was soon to follow suit; wherever Shanks went, you’d be hot on his heels. Quickly, the Oro Jackson became home and the crew the family you’d never had.

You quickly caught up to Shanks in swordsmanship, leading to amused gambling from the crew during your many duels. As you got older, the crew learned to make the two of you wait until a nearby island before fighting, following a rather nasty incident of a cleaved mast. Your dragon abilities became stronger as you got older too, and a nasty bout of flu led to you setting Buggy’s hat on fire.

The sea was calm the day you’d pulled in to dock at orchard island. Roger entrusted the task of gathering a few specific supplies to you, a routine you carried out often. Hours passed, and the atmosphere on the ship grew uneasy. Shanks returned from his own chores, expecting to see you, but you were nowhere in sight. The crew began searching the ship frantically, calling your name with increasing worry. However, as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours gave way to nightfall, it became evident that something was terribly wrong.

Shanks discovered your belongings untouched in their shared quarters. The half-finished drawings, the worn-out pirate hat - all left behind. The crew descended on the town in search of you. 

In the heart of the town square, Gaban discovered a series of wanted posters plastered to the wall, large red “X”s painted over them — displaying your face. Shock ran through the crew as they first realised that the marines had been watching you closely. Then, that you’d been taken.

──────────────────── many years later...

The scent of salt and decay lingered in the air as Shanks and his crew disembarked onto the abandoned Naval Fortress, its walls cracked and crumbling, long since reclaimed by nature. 

Possibilities of treasures or hidden secrets about the World Government drew Shanks to investigate the fortress

The soft slap of his sandals echoed as he wandered through the corridors.

As the crew rifled through old storage rooms and examined dusty maps, Shanks couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this forsaken place. His instincts led him to a particularly intact section of the fortress; the walls stood strong, showing no signs of weathering.

“Hey, Benn,” he called over his shoulder, palm splayed against the cool stone, “you seeing what I’m seeing?”

A wave of Haki accompanied by a soft grunt confirmed it. Shanks pushed his hand forward, the brick beggining to slide backwards at the same time as a bookshelf on the opposite end of the room swung open. A draft of cold air greeted them as the secret door creaked open, revealing a dark passageway leading downwards. 

The two exchanged looks before descending, Benn lighting a bundle of old lamps as a torch. The descent was eerie, the walls damp and the air heavy. The further they went, the more ominous the surroundings became. Shadows danced on the walls, and the distant echo of dripping water kept them on edge. 

At the bottom of the passageway, Shanks caught his foot on something, something that clanked and grated against the lichen-covered floor. Benn swung the torch downwards, casting the corner of the room in dim light— and Shanks couldn't believe his eyes. Chained to the cold, the stone wall was a figure. You.

Word Count: 1094

[ladypseudonym]

Hello all,

Sending love and good vibes to you all. I don’t have a Twitter (or X account) anymore, so I am not hopeful that this will reach the people that it is intended for.

I just wanted to alert you all that I have removed all of my previous writing from Archive Of Our Own in light of the sexual abuse allegations against some of the people involved. I had these fics on an archive (lpseudonymarchive) for the past couple years, because, while I did not agree (and was frankly disgusted) with the actions of the people I had written about, it broke my heart to think about completely removing works that people had told me saved their lives. Because the majority of these fics were commissioned, I felt guilty about deleting works that people paid for… which takes me to the point of this post:

If you are a person who paid for something I had written a couple years ago, and had not received an additional PDF (as most people did) please reach out to me so I can get what you paid for to you.

I love you all. I hope you’re doing well. I’ve been working on some writing to post, but I’m not sure if it’s good. You’ll all have to be the judge.

Thank you all for being good to me. Please spread this around if you are still involved with the community and know someone who has purchased something from me.

XOXO and love and hope,

Pseuds

(ladypseudonym)

EDIT:

The people referenced are Wilbur Soot and GeorgeNotFound. As some of my followers remember, I exited the community years ago because of the racism and Islamophobia prevalent in both the creators themselves and the community. However, I feel it is inappropriate to not say anything further if I am deleting things people paid for, and not directly name sexual abusers.

[dreambigdreamz]

Inside the brain of a writer

(me talking to myself)

the mental process of writing a smut fic

the usual warnings ofc proceed with caution.

wheee i’ve been reading some ahem hotd stuff ahem and i think i can pull off my very own as well 🌚🌚🌚

yass eomer and lothiriel’s wedding nighttt

actually no i’d die writing

for many reasons

julie write a sample for me please

should i just ai generate this

oh loth why on earth would you say that

quick, make her drown another flagon of wine to avoid the embarrassment 

BAHAHAHA i’m 6k word count and not yet halfway guysss

NO BROTHER YOU CAN’T READ THIS

because lothiriel is undressing eomer 🫢

*hysterical giggles as the world dissipates internally*

what on earth am i saying to a 11-year-old

shit he’s taking up the discussion

he says eomer should be allowed to undress himself to show ‘manly’ independence

shut the f up kid you don’t know anything about the romance of unbuttoning and revealing the man’s body

“stahp ahaha i can’t imagine it i’d DIE”

*dies for three months before guilty sense kicks back your arse to continue working on the wip*

drag myself through the shit like it’s no big deal

eomer without armour 💗💗💗

eomer without shirt 👀🥹🫢🌚🤡

should i or should i not put a full description of his… 

nope 

KEEP IT POETIC NOT GRAPHIC

will there be a blowjob

but i won’t know how to describe how it tastes so no

functioning on the last single braincell

once read a headcanon saying eomer will give you no less than 3 o’s and i stand by that

is ‘reverberate’ smth to do with vibrations or vertebrates

his voice being deep and gruff his voice being deep and gruff his voice being deep and gruff HIS VOICE—

what does ‘convulse’ mean

could i maybe find a use for it to be included in the writing, even though i don’t know what it means?

i mean, i’ve seen it written but never bothered searching up 

gets up in the middle of the night to search up thesaurus

“TREPIDATION” IS SUCH A NICE WORD inCLudE iT iN By aLL meAns

….if only i gave half the effort for my academics…..

if he gives her oral, remember to get him to wipe off his mouth before he kisses her again because

you don’t know what it tastes like 

+ somewhat disgusting and shameful (ahh little purist me)

“did you finish your smut fic lol”

“haha nearly! was up till one am last night writing it” (i normally sleep at 8 pm)

“he’s penetrating her now ehehe”

*deletes last message*

keep your purist virgin opinions out of this and Let Them Have Fun!!!!

how long does it take a candle to burn out

“would you like to read what i have gotten so far 👉👈”

no lothiriel would never think the act “sickening” KEEP YOURSELF OUT OF THIS

YES YES YES KEEP THE CLASSICAL ROMANCE ALIVE YOU ARE SUCH A POETIC WRITER DID ANYBODY TELL YOU HAHA 😇 

but also the tension, don’t undo the tension all at once

DONT LET THEM FALL IN LOVE OVER ONE NIGHT WHAT SOAKING IDIOT ARE YOU

it takes time, it has to take time 

so no

make it an awkward messy ordeal

you are a most horrifying author, you deserve to go to hell three times over WHAT WAS THAT FOR

i know

how do i describe what his hands are doing

like one is doing smth while the other is another—

or keep it simple?

how big and strong he is x300 sentences

he’s gotta have big brown eyes / be able to satisfy / he’s gotta be big and strong / enough to turn me onnnnnn (the angelic choir version please)

his eyes turning into dark orbs 👀 a glint of dangerous light ahahahahahahahahah 

*descends into madness*

god save my soul 

no no Snow you got it wrong bby

there are no whores and sluts here

be horny without guilty

you might actually make some money out of writing this one day

big ambitions >>>

in the meantime enjoy yourself 

but seriously dude

wouldn’t he crush her bones if he collapsed on top of her

REWRITE EVERYTHING

first go and scroll through tumblr again

and spiral down into the sinful one-shots and take inspo from the masters

BUT THE AGONYYYYY (cuz u barely crawl out alive after these little visits onto that side of tumblr)

or shld i just post it and pretend nothing’s the matter and let it be and delete this entire post on making a fuss out of as tiny a thing as writing smut

fuck it i’ll go solve some mathematics

p.s. make eomer considerate at all times

p.p.s. you need to seriously decide between making lothiriel either an innocent angel or a coldhearted bitch MAKE UP YOUR MIND 

because i feel for the poor guy if she keeps acting hot n cold like this 

woe is me, the writer

i declare nobody suffers it as i do

but what if there was a toad in the bed as a prank from amrothos

[7trialzofnina]

! INTRODUCTION !

ABOUT DA ZOMBIE BUNNY :

︶꒦꒷ MY NAMES NINA !

IT/THING PRNS ONLY.

FICTIVE HEAVY SYS ; NTK HOST !

MAIN BLOG IS @skullbowz

Bodily a minor.

scene + goth !! (Scenoth)

IRAQI - TURK (please be kind about my grammar + wording in my writing , since English isn’t my first language.)

︶꒦꒷ MY MAIN INTERESTS !

pastamonsters

Saga of Jeffery Keaton (the killer)

Everymanhybrid

BrokeNCYDE

creepypasta

AND MUCHHH MUCH MORE 0__o

ABOUT DA BLOG :

this is a blog centralized around creepypasta: maybe EMH , pastamonsters , and happy pasta writing as well!

Im open to taking requests , just know this blog will most likely have short ass updates and content being produced. School kicks my butt ALOTTT . I get like super burnt out and experience writers block a shit ton more easily

︶꒦꒷ THINGS I WILL TAKE REQUESTS ON ))

ships

Fluff

Angst (that I’ll prob suck at LMAO)

Headcannons

AU questions

Character QnA

One shots (I’ve never written character x reader so this’ll be interesting)

Anything that’s whimsy and not problematic

character alphabets

Hot takes

And I may add onto this list!

︶꒦꒷ THINGS I WONT TAKE REQUESTS ON ))

pro ships / any problematic or illegal ships

Characters like OFFENDERMAN.

ninakate in specifics , I just don’t like the ship sorry ! No offense 2 the people that do enjoy it 💔💔

NSFW. I AM A MINOR.

Anything over the top dehumanizing or illegal ; idk how to word it but like examples being

R@P3 / noncon (or dubcon)

anything that ends with phile

Disgusting Headcannons that dehumanize or makes a character be seen as problematic based off of their mental stability , crimes , or personality

Im not writing ANY romantic things that affiliate HABIT. Not with other characters , not with the reader.

I think this should be self explanatory, I’ll just delete the inbox shit ion like LMAO

DIRECTORY :

masterlist

Headcannons

One shots

Im gonna be so fr idk what I’m doin

THIS BLOG IS STILL A WIP!!!!

[dramaklub]

‼️FORMAT‼️; Red ink is me talking, in the present. This tool will be mostly to add context. The rest is copy pasted directly, the only edits not explicitly stated (in red) are things like spelling and punctuation. I will put the TW in blue ink.

TW: unaliving and childhood SA and the weird aftermath of it. No direct descriptions of it. Just the grey area of the understanding what your relationship with family is supposed to be, and the fundamental misunderstanding of those boundaries I had crying the abuse and after.

Time unknown; for the Club section. most likely past midnight. Most likely pretty drunk:

From Mandela club, puerto Vallarta; bathroom

Post colloquy; it’s like I watch from the outside, im like Casper, i watch people’s lives go, watch them grow up, see them hit milestones. And I would fucking give anything to be them. Not enough though I suppose. What to do?

Idea; the woman in the window? (I was reading this book at the time, meaning of this note is unknown lol)

I keep asking myself ‘what’s wrong with me’ and answering ‘you know what’ and that conversation ends with me being thinking about who I am. What I am. My place. It’s daunting to remember. To be honest with yourself about what people think, about what they’re laughing at when I’m dancing and when I’m making out with someone. It’s unbelievable to them. Hilarious. I’m hilarious. That’s all I’ll ever be. I don’t know how to not be funny it seems. A curse out upon me by I don’t know what. I don’t know why I had to be this person. Why I couldn’t be average. Not Kendal Jenner but Sarah who is insecure about her small judding out belly or non-thigh gap. Why do I have to have this? Why is this me? Why can’t I leave. Why can’t I sign out? I suppose I could but it’s not exactly like deleting my wizards 101 account is it? It’s dramatic and traumatizing to everyone around me. I have to endure because everyone around me will have to live with my death. And not just death but traumatic death. Dramatic. Suicide. As if I brought anything to the table. I don’t. I won’t ever bc I’m nothing. I have nothing. I just want to go home and be comfortable. I want to never leave and be perceived again. But I have to leave and I have to continue to ignore it. me. fucking suffer. It sounds fucking dramatic I know, but how could I describe it. I’m not simply annoyed or bothered by such bothering and annoying things. I’m fucking plagued by them. Will I ever love. Sorry, correction, I probably will, the question is will I be loved. Will be desired after for my body and my conversation. I don’t know, obviously, but Im sure not, either because such a simple thing is obviously off the table, in trying to imagine facing a summer where I could go without trying to overcome some major fear/ anxiety. It’s not for me. I was here for what? Exactly! No se, I have nothing to offer, maybe recommending a specific niche of fantasy books or fan fiction and smut. Perhaps what I have to offer is nothing. Some people have nothing, give nothing. Maybe I gave some life lessons to someone. But someone’s life can’t be summed up to their achievements can they? But aren’t they? How will I live up? How will I be remembered. Something tells me it’s in the manor of my death. Nothing else is worth taking about. I never lit up a room with my smile. I was never outgoing. I’m forgetable no matter how hard I try not to be. God I’ve written so many of these things. Had so many dreams and wants. Why don’t I get them. What’s wrong with me? What don’t I get those nice things? I know why. It hurts though.

At work: 12:13pm in the bathroom

“You’re only as fucked up as your secrets” from the Stevo podcast feat. Shane Dawson. Fuck. I mean that’s not good? Is it. Not in my case. It means I’m really really fucked up. There are things I know. I just know I will never ever ever speak about. To anyone. Therapist, loved one. Absolutely anyone. Because they’re disgusting secrets. They were when I was little and had a very warped view of society. And people. I have family that are not very eager to be friends with me bc they remember something I did that definitely sat right on that line of inappropriate. (Very interesting pov from her on this day bc to be clear this is complete speculation lmao, in this she is talking about my cousins, I’m just not very close to my cousins, we all grew up and what I ‘did’, what im referring to, is one awkward encounter with my cousin - one cousin- not so bad to have cause this alleged shunning lol. Definitely still weird, I dared him to watch porn and I stayed - I can’t remember who decided that good idea lol but i am taking blame- in the room. It was weird for all parties) I don’t even like writing about it now. I mean, here is the thing. I never did cross that line. Not like my cousin did. Never. But I did walk it. Because I think I wasn’t sure how the world worked then yet. I’m gonna be honest and say; idk why I didn’t cross that line. I could have. Very easily. Bc the reason I was even walking it was bc I didn’t know what was right and wrong. (I’m giving myself more grace then she gave herself here; she didn’t cross the line because what she did, did feel weird and wrong and she very simply, didn’t wanna cross the line) I didn’t understand. People told me I would never be kidnapped or raped or touched bc I was an ugly and or fat child. But it did happen and I think I didn’t know what to do about it. It made me feel things I didn’t understand and it made me confused. Bc I thought I was disgusting. My world view at 4 was already based on how attractive I was. At 4. I was already worried about sex. At 4. And with the people I was close with I didn’t understand that line existed. So I happen to walk it. I thought it was normal. And it’s a huge part of my past that I regret and I am ashamed and scared of. I don’t like that idea, that that could be me. I’m scared That that wasn’t a product of my perception of the world that was put on to me at young age, but me. That’s scary. I don’t want to bring it up and hurt someone like that. Like I said I never crossed that line but what if what I did was enough to damage my relationship with them. That’s scary. I don’t want to face that.

And I don’t want to face therapy to talk about it all. I’m at this point and have almost been in it for a year. I’ve made a real mess of my life and I don’t think I will make it worth loving frankly. Maybe I will? But reality is that I probably won’t. I’m waiting to get to the point where I can finally kill myself. I’m okay right now, but I’m trying to get the people around me to a good place. So I can let go. My thought; I know it’s selfish but why should it be? I’m not having a good time right now. I never have. I want to sign out. No I want to delete my account. I’m so fucking done. There are things I want to do of course. God so many things. And maybe if I was someone else I would have done them but I won’t in this life. I just fucking won’t. In video games; if I don’t play exactly how I want to - if Mario didn’t land atop the flag pole- I restarted completely. I would need to delete my start. Is that mentally ill? I mean why should I have to be here? Im an adult, I don’t like it here. I fucking hate it as I am. I love it as someone else. That what makes it sad I think. That I don’t hate all of it. In fact I’m in love with so much of it. But I can’t experience it purely. It’s tainted with my existence.

No need to be worried about this authors state of being, im alive and not actively planning my suicide anymore

[ladymogar-archive]

Cheating on your wife is not a mistake but a fucking choice.

I’m glad it’s nothing illegal but how fucking dare he use his position to solicit fans and cheat on his wife. What a shitty world we live in.

ALSO don’t fucking harass his family! What’s that all about ? Jfc

https://twitter.com/RyanTheTwit/status/1313598106081132547?s=19

[wof-reworked]

I don’t want to reblog the post in question because like. I generally like the people involved in it but there’s a post about Qibli going around rn that is making me legitimately kind of mad so let’s talk about Qibli and where Tui fucked up with him, but also where she didn’t

(this is going to get a little bit aggressive, I might end up deleting this because it is an impassioned rant of sorts, but it’s on my mind as more people talk about Qibli)

(please, keep in mind: I don’t think all of his behavior is healthy. This dragon needs some goddamn therapy. But I think the distinction between unhealthy vs destructive is important. I talk about this later)

SO.

The idea that Qibli is manipulative for having very clear self loathing and trauma is, quite frankly, disgusting?? Like did you forget that a really, really common trauma response is to latch onto people who are kind to you in your life??? The idea that Qibli only acts like he cares about Thorn, his fucking adoptive mother, to get her to pay attention to him is a wild stretch and such a butchering of their relationship I’m genuinely still trying to comprehend it. 

 Qibli thinks Thorn hung the moon because, honestly, when you’re deprived of kindness, having it freely given feels like magic. And Thorn is one of the few dragons in Qibli’s life that has given him any amount of genuine compassion. And we see this with Moon too, the fact she thinks of him as smart and kind himself is something new and kind of shocking for Qibli. This is only emphasized by the fact she’s seen into his thoughts and finds someone she loves there. He thinks of Moon as being way too good for him (and he doesn’t understand why she likes *him*, or if she does at all) and it shows. 

 Like I know the point they’re trying to get at with this analysis, but it’s such a strange reading of the text. Qibli comparing himself to Winter in his thoughts is not the same thing as him pressuring Moon to choose him, if you remember, Qibli still has a piece of skyfire, meaning his thoughts are blocked from Moon’s. He isn’t thinking these things in an active attempt to pressure Moon, these are just his thoughts! He isn’t trying to pressure Moon into being in a relationship with him, he is just a deeply self loathing character, and her response reflects that with how she replies “don’t overthink this. say yes” BECAUSE QIBLI HAS BEEN, IF ANYTHING ELSE, DELIBERATELY AVOIDING TRYING TO PUT HER IN A POSITION WHERE SHE IS HIS ONLY OPTION. LIKE THIS WHOLE BOOK IS HIM GOING “I don’t want to pressure Moon into a relationship, I love her but I want what’s best for her”. AND SHE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE KNOWS SHE’S SINCERE AND WANTS THIS TOO. 

And related to this: Him thinking about Winter is not about trying to garner sympathy from Moon or make himself the one who needs her attention, it’s based off genuinely feeling Winter brings more to the table and would be better for her. I’ll say it again: Qibli is a deeply insecure dragon who doubts his own skills constantly, that’s the root of him comparing himself to Winter. 

SO: EVERYTHING I’VE DESCRIBE IS UNHEALTHY. LIKE THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY WAY TO LIVE. BUT IT’S NOT MANIPULATIVE. I think what I would call Qibli is, more than anything, codependent. His relationships with Moon and Thorn involve idolizing them to an unhealthy degree and placing them on a pedestal where everything they do is right. I would’ve loved to see this get actually explored in canon. 

Now. I do want to point out Qibli’s book is not actually very good lol. Qibli is also never wrong, which is boring and bad storytelling. He solves everything put in front of him and always comes out perfectly fine and forgiving. I would’ve loved to see him as a more complex character, and honestly a better written character here’s how BPD qibli can still win- *I am dragged off-stage by a comically long hook*

And it’s worth mentioning: Part of Qibli being written without meaningful flaws is that this is presented as his genuine thoughts and feelings and reality. Qibli is not an unreliable narrator like Darkstalker or Peril. So the idea he’s “acting” or otherwise pretending to have these feelings is a really bad read. 

Not to get personal, but Qibli as a character matters to me a lot. As someone who struggles with a lot of the same inner monologue to the point of being brought to tears when I read this book the first time, this book and the message mean a lot to me. The idea that that inner monologue is indicative of being manipulative is the kind of rhetoric that lead to me feeling like I was manipulating people into caring about me when I shared my problems. That idea has actively sabotaged relationships in my life, and I cannot stress how much I hate it. That the only way to be mentally ill is to suffer in silence away from the world because sharing your feelings with loved ones is forcing them to care about you. 

I understand being annoyed by Qibli’s narration. I like a lot of Qibli critical analysis. Do not take this as me mindlessly defending this character. But I do not like the rhetoric I’m seeing passed around AT ALL. 

so y’know. If you can have compassion for Winter, you can have compassion for Qibli. 

[sageinacage]

Why I am leaving this blog

This is the truth as of why I'm abandoning my tumblr, @/sageinacage.

CW: swearing/harsher language; mentions of breaking boundaries, sexualization, bondage, non-con/tickle torture, kinks, toxicity, overall rly uncomfortable topics

TLDR at the bottom.

Before I start, I want to say that I’m not talking about everyone in this community. Not everyone is like this, but still a lot of people are, and unfortunately the negatives are louder than the positives.

Having this blog was quite an adventure. It definitely had its ups and downs, but I was quick to notice that it had a majority of downs instead of ups. As of now, I'm dreading being on this page.

I don't feel comfortable here anymore and it's incredibly hard for me to feel any sense of safety in this community, and I honestly feel personally ashamed to be in the MCYT tickle community with the bullshit me and others have seen and experienced.

People go around on anonymous and practically harass creators, I've seen so many rude anons get sent to myself, my friends, and people on my dash. People are also breaking CC's boundaries left and right, and no one will listen to anyone when it's spoken up about. I remember making a post stating that if you send anon hate then DNI, and I lost 4 followers. So disappointing. Actually after I took a screenshot of my boundary/trigger list and posted it, someone sent me an ask and did EXACTLY what was listed in my triggers. It went fully against my boundaries, and it caused me to feel scared whenever I get a notification in my inbox, because I’m scared that somebody is trying to purposely trigger me again; and I shouldn’t have to be on Tumblr with such paranoia as I’m experiencing.

Going onto the topic of the more weird and uncomfortable side of the community, I also remember I made a post a while ago saying "if you support putting minors in heavy bondage, then unfollow," and I lost 5+ followers. To put it bluntly, that’s fucking disgusting. For those people to admit for putting minors in a borderline NSFW situation, since heavy bondage is quite literally something that only happens in the kink world and there’s nothing wholesome or cute about it, and for them to admit to doing it, is fucking weird. Though, I’m thankful those people got off my blog.

I have literally seen someone post art of c!Ranboo in heavy restraints and it didn’t even look remotely fun or consensual. It was pictured, or at least my friends and I interpreted it, that he was being tickle tortured and it was non-con. Though, it’s to be expected when the art is a dark-lit room with an intense tickle machine with heavy bondage, with a blindfold and what looks he is genuinely struggling. What made me even more uncomfortable is that an adult drew it. Another person wrote a fic of c!Ranboo in a lot of bondage with the sign “tickle toy” attached to him. That’s fucking weird. That’s practically something that never gets condoned in a strictly SFW sense. The sad part is that others and I have seen a lot of this happening around.

I was actually informed that an artist the other day on another MCYT tickle server drew literal non-con tickle art of Technoblade (/srs). I was revolted. The worst part is, some people didn't even have an issue with it and reacted to the image with heart emojis. For someone to draw non-con in a completely SFW server filled with a bunch of minors is creepy and weird. Non-con isn't a fun thing, and so many people, including me, have horrible experiences related to it; and for someone to turn it into a "heehee fun tickle" situation is fucked up. For someone to even fantasize non-con as a tickle fantasy just makes me feel sick. There are a few fics like this I've seen as well, unfortunately.

Related to non-con things, I've actually gotten a request before asking me to write Schlatt literally tickle torturing Tubbo, and multiple asks that are similar to that; even when on my request rules it stated not to ask for things related to that. Anything with the word "torture" in it is not consensual, especially in the context it was in. I’ve probably had to delete around 5–8 asks in total from my inbox that were related to non-con or torturous things, even after I already stated in my rules I do not write that stuff.

Another thing I've seen is romantic-esque things written with CCs and then the creator slaps a "/p" onto it, and all of a sudden it's okay? Ranboo has even stated in a stream that he is uncomfortable with his IRL self being written/drawn cuddling his friends, and I see so many fics and concepts of IRL Ranboo cuddling in some way (which I've spoken out about before, but again, no one listened).

Moving on, I've probably met the most toxic people in this community than any others I've been apart of- and I've been apart of a lot, I've been on Tumblr on different blogs since I was 11. For some reason, so many people love to guilt trip here (both my friends and I have noticed and experienced a bunch of people doing it in this community), and the people who get called out for it avoid apologizing like the plague. A person in this community made me and a few others literally scared to say no and scared to advocate for our boundaries, because of how much we got guilt tripped. And no, no one received an apology. But still, people DEFENDED this person, even though me and other people spoke out and explained how this person hurt us. That’s so fucking upsetting. I automatically don’t feel safe in a community where people willingly associate with a literal manipulator and someone who hurt probably over 10 people in total (/srs).

Another thing I've noticed is that so many people seem entitled to something. For example, when I got practically harassed by anons for my discomforts/triggers, basically trying to squeeze out reasoning. No one needs to explain their boundaries/discomforts to you, and this community doesn't understand that from what I've experienced; after being harassed by multiple people on anonymous multiple times, all of which were because of personal reasons I was not obligated to share. No one should be able to say that they got harassed by people on anon for their OWN BOUNDARIES. ON 3 DIFFERENT OCCASIONS AS WELL.

Long story short, I can’t help my triggers. Each of my triggers has developed from trauma I’ve gone through or a bad experience, and I shouldn’t even have to defend myself for my triggers/discomforts if people were respectful and weren’t so fucking entitled for an explanation. So many people in this community can’t mind their own business, and I unfortunately had to learn that the hard way.

I've also seen people project onto IRL CCs. Those are real and breathing people. I understand doing it for comfort, but, the CCs have a literal character that people can project onto, but for some reason, people have to push their things onto real life people. I’ve seen someone headcannon IRL Tommy as trans. That's like the same as your friend "headcannoning" you, a real person, as a different sexuality that isn't what you identify with, and one you may not even be OK with being seen as, and without knowing if you're comfortable with it or not. It's weird.

There are more points I could bring up and more specific things I could state, but I think you got the gist of why I'm leaving. I don't feel comfortable being a member in a community which a lot of its members condone in this stuff.

This is the reason why I'm only active in the MCYT tickle community on Discord, because my server, "Mcytickles," actually respects CCs boundaries and is truly an SFW server, and people are respectful towards each other. It's the only safe space I have in this community anymore, so please do not join it if you exhibit any of these things on this post.

No, I will not be coming back, so please do not try to convince me to stay. I’ve been wanting to leave for about a month now, so this isn’t some impulsive decision. I’ve been in the MCYT tickle community since April, and these problems have always existed but have just gotten worse and more extreme, so I’m leaving for my own mental health and to protect myself from further harm than what I’ve already received.

TLDR: I am leaving this blog and the MCYT tickle community on Tumblr due to the many boundary breaking and unacceptable behaviors I've seen be exhibited, and it makes me not feel safe and comfortable to be here anymore.

I want to thank my mutuals, though. You were all awesome and such kind and loving people, and I’m happy to be your guys’ mutual. I want to thank those who were always so nice to me and hyping up my work, and those who were respectful to everyone and advocated for boundaries. Thank you so much for everything, moots <3 (/gen)

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hi, if you are still in the writing mood could I ask for Zelda Spellman x fem!reader that's sweet and fluffy, because Zelda deserves happiness, please? Thank you!!!

Sorry it took me so long, I had a few personal problems to deal with, and online classes were a right bitch. I hope you like what I made of this prompt! I deleted everything I had written so far halfway through and started all over again, and hope that it is what you imagined! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in love with Zelda Spellman. The sad thing about that, she wasn't in love with you. You have been friends for almost a century, best friends even, since you were the one constant in her life. No matter what happened, you were always there. You were always by her side, through that whole Blackwood ordeal, when she was with Marie, no matter what, no matter your feelings, you were always right by her side. And you always picked up the pieces, just like you were now. Zelda called you late one night, sobbing uncontrollably, saying something about Marie being gone. It took you just about five seconds to hang up and teleport right into her bedroom, where she was crying on her bed.

“Hey...” you just mumbled as you sat down next to her, but you were quite shocked when Zelda launched herself directly into your arms, crying even harder than before. You were hurting with her, biting back your own tears at seeing her so devastated. Yet, you didn't say anything at all, you just pulled her closer and started to stroke her back gently, waiting for her to calm down.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Why does everyone leave me?” Zelda asked instead and your heart broke all over for her again.

“I'm still here, or am I not?” you asked gently and hugged her a bit tighter. Zelda froze and gently pulled herself out of your embrace to look at you. You could see the gears in her head turning and suddenly, you were scared. You hid your feelings for so long, did she finally realize?

“You...You are,” Zelda said dumbfounded and continued staring at you. Your heart started to pound in your chest and you were pretty sure she could hear it.

“But...why? Everyone leaves... why do you stay?” Zelda asked the one million dollar question and now it was your turn to freeze.

“I- Listen, Zelda, I don't think this is the right time...” you sigh and looked down at your lap. You couldn't confess to her right now, even though the urge was so strong. She was in love with Marie, and she just left, you couldn't tell her about your feelings. It wouldn't be fair. On the other hand... Maybe your confession would prove to her that you would never leave her. Ever.

Gentle hands grasped your head and forced you to look into Zelda's eyes. They were still wet with tears, but oh so beautiful and you were captivated again, staring at her, without hiding anything.

“I could never leave you. Not in a million years. To me, you are... just everything. I know this is not the right time, with all that's going on and stuff, but... I am in love with you. Have been for the past fifty years, actually. I', sorry that I confess now after Marie just left but... I am not strong enough to keep it from you any longer,” you said and tears started gathering in your eyes. You wanted to look away, to run, but you couldn't. First, Zelda still held your face in her hands, and second, you would betray everything you just said if you ran away now.

“I don't know what to say y/n,” Zelda whispered, but the hold on your face tightened and there was a fondness in her eyes you have never seen before. You didn't dare hope.

“You don't have to say anything. I never thought you would have the same feelings for me, and that's okay. I can take it. I took it for the last fifty years, and your friendship is more important than anything. I wanna be by your side, even if we are just friends because you are too important to me. I never want to lose you,” you say gently and looked back into her eyes, letting all your walls down to show her that you were brutally honest with everything you said. She was crying again and that was not supposed to happen. You were here to make her feel better, not worse.

“I'm sorry for dumping that on you. I can understand if you want me to leave,” you whispered, even though leaving was far from your mind. Something was shifting, and you wanted to know where exactly you stood with Zelda now.

“And lose the one good thing that ever happened to me? Stay, please, just give me a moment to sort my thoughts,” Zelda said and leaned her forehead on your shoulder. Was that a good sign, you wondered. It could have been worse, you decided and gently took Zelda's hands in yours.

“I never thought that you could love me, to be honest,” Zelda said after a while and your heart started to pound again.

“Are you serious? What isn't there to love about you? You are so strong, brave, caring, and beautiful. Like a phoenix, you rise from the ashes every time something bad happened, to you or the people close to you, stronger than before. You have your moods, sure, but even those are kind of adorable sometimes. The way you smile when Sabrina does something that makes you proud, or your smile in general. I would fight armies just to see you smile. It's so cheesy and disgustingly sweet, I know, but... you are just everything to me. And Blackwood and Marie didn't deserve you. They didn't cherish you the way you should be cherished. If you could just see yourself with my eyes you would know that there was simply no other way, but to love you. With my whole heart. I've seen you at your worst and I've seen you at your best and all the in-between, and I fell in love with every part of you all over again. Call me a sap, or disgusting, or whatever, but you are so much more than you think you are and what others made you feel. Fuck Marie for leaving you, if I were to have you at my side I would cherish you forever, because Zelda Spellman, you are a gift!” you said and by the time you were finished with your speech you were out of breath and Zelda was staring at you as if you'd grown a second head.

“I am sorry if I overwhelmed you,” you whispered, but you couldn't stop staring at her, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“No one ever said anything like that to me before,” Zelda said and if you didn't know it any better, you would say that she was rather shell-shocked.

“Oh, believe me, you have no idea how much I hate your past lovers for that,” you said heatedly and Zelda snorted at that.

“I love you too,” Zelda said simply and smiled. You gaped. What did she just say?!

“You-I-what?” you stammered and Zelda looked at you with such gentleness that all the butterflies in your stomach turned into a tornado of fluttering.

“You are an idiot. But you are my idiot. If you want to be that is,” Zelda said and buried her face in your neck. You were completely speechless. Was this really happening?

“But what about Marie?” you asked, afraid of the answer. But Zelda just took your face into her hands again and forced you to look into her eyes when she said “If I had known that we have a chance, I would have never gotten together with Marie. Or Blackwood for that matter. And now stop thinking and just kiss me already”

You just snorted at her demanding down and leaned forward gently, until your lips connected in the sweetest kiss you had ever experienced in your life. One of Zelda's hands wandered into your hair to pull you closer and you just grabbed her and pulled her into your lap. You were probably holding on a bit too tightly, but neither of you cared when Zelda moaned gently and you used the opportunity to deepen your kiss. Zelda's other hand wandered into your hair, gently tugging and now it was your turn to moan. Your tongues battled for dominance and surprisingly you won, smirking into the kiss until you had to come up for air.

“I always knew you were a bottom,” you grinned teasingly and buried your face into Zelda's neck, kissing it softly.

“Shut up and continue what you are doing. I don't want to waste another second with you,” Zelda moaned and threw her head back so that you had more room to continue your ministrations.

“So demanding my love,” you chuckle and gently bit down to suck a small, barely-there mark into her skin. You couldn't quite believe that this was happening, but you enjoyed every second of it.

“I'll never let you go now, my darling Zelda,” you whisper into her ear and Zelda just moaned, demanding more. You didn't know how far you would take it today, but you weren't overly concerned with time right now. After all, you were witches, and now you had all the time in the world to finally be together...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prompts are still open, although it may take sometime for me to finish. I pinned the post where I asked for prompts on my page, so if you want anything written, please check  it out!

[hangmansradio]

Do you ever question ~why~ you write, and find yourself wanting to throw your laptop out of the window because of it?

I write for the MCR fandom and ill be honest, i fell out of love with the fandom a long long time ago (mainly because of the online toxicity). Now, i no longer care about receiving comments or kudos from people in the fandom because it honestly just raises anxiety in me, so I've found myself writing but not posting it anywhere. (Before, kudos and comments especially from regular readers were what motivated me)

There's no other fandom I'm interested in writing in, and I'm past the age now where a new fandom can grab my attention easily- it would really take a lot for that to happen. So I'm at this point where I'm just like... why am I writing and who am I writing for? I'm using Gerard and Frank as characters but I'm so far removed from the fandom that I don't feel connected to it in anyway anymore.

I hate Canon (in terms of tv show fandoms etc) so a bandom is perfect for creative liberties when writing, but I just... feel so unmotivated. And yet, writing is my life, I dont know what I'll do with my free time if I stop.

I know you've spoken before about second guessing your place in the fandom and whether or not it's a space you still want to write in. How do you still continue to write when you feel that way? I know you're currently taking a break, but before that?

If you can't relate to anything I've said in this ask then just disregard it, but I have the feeling you are or have been in a similar position as me and maybe you can offer some words of wisdom 🥺

Oh nonny, I really, really feel for you right now 💜 I am in basically the exact same position as you, more or less. I've been writing in the MCR fandom for fifteen years now (yikes) and it was always such a warm, safe space. But the past couple of years I've slowly noticed that changing, and now, even me as a seasoned writer who KNOWS the fandom so well, am totally disgusted by the thought of posting anything new because the toxicity is at a new level. It's like people will read someone's work now just to find something to complain about, when ✨back in my day ✨ the number one rule was always "don't like something, then hit the back button". I feel like it's become an okay thing now to literally harass authors, which is just awful because we're all writing for free, in our spare time.

Once upon a time you could write about literally anything and know you were safe to post, even back before AO3 and their fantastic tagging system. Back then, you knew there was a chance you could be reading something you disliked every time you clicked on a fic, and that was fine, because you just turned back if that was the case. And that fostered a really great community, where anyone sending hate or being at all negative to an author were very quickly shot down by everyone else reminding them that only THEY, and not the author, are responsible for keeping themselves happy on the internet.

All that being said, I'm not sure I'll ever return to writing MCR fic. Taking this break has been so healing, because I don't miss it at all. I miss writing terribly, and I miss those wonderful readers who would always send love my way, but in general... My mental health is a million times better for getting out. And it would get even better again if I had the heart to completely sever the ties with my AO3 account - just this morning I received another negative comment on a fic and seeing the email notification come through with comments makes me so anxious now. I hate that it's become that way, and the temptation to completely delete my profile is so tempting. But I couldn't do it to those people who still say they get so much joy out of my fic.

So... I'm in a very similar position to you. Writing MCR fic was me. It's what I did every spare moment I had for literally half of my life. So where do we go from here? Personally I'm still figuring it out.

I'm lucky in that I have some fantastic writer friends who still want to read my stuff in private who I can post to. It's not as motivating as that rush of posting online and seeing who likes it, but it's enough. I haven't written anything at all, not a single sentence, since I uploaded Chains made of Gold; but last week one of my real life friends asked if they could help get me out of my writing rut, and requested a Kingsman fic, not to post online but just for them to read. And it's the first time I've felt any sort of motivation to write. Something small, safe and private to share with a friend, that I can handle.

I'm similar to you, in that I find canon difficult to work around because I'm so used to writing whatever I want. But there are no fanfic rules that say you have to stick to canon - the joy of fanfiction is that we don't have to do that! It can be hard getting into a new fandom, but maybe it's worth just a little try?

And for me, as it is for many fic writers, the dream was always to one day write original stories to publish. Recently I've felt like that dream is further away than ever, and maybe I'm just not a writer anymore. But I can't imagine my life without it, writing stories is my passion, and I can't let a toxic fandom destroy that.

So to you nonny, I say this - don't give up. It's easier said than done, I know. Find "real" people who love writing and befriend them, if you don't already know people who might want to read your stuff in private. I'm more than happy for you to send anything my way, be it fanfic or otherwise, and I'll gladly cheerleader for you if it helps keep the writing bug alive. Joining a creative writing group is also a fantastic way to keep motivated and challenge yourself with new ideas - I LOVED the one I was in, but sadly I have no local group now. But if you do, please try it, getting away from the internet communities that are so toxic and into a group of real people, all passionate about writing, is such a healing thing.

We all started writing just for us. Because we loved it. Hold onto that, and take as long a break as you need, and I promise the urge to write will come again 💜

TL;DR The 'point' of writing has always just been to tell those stories inside of us. Don't give up on something you're passionate about, find good people who can be excited about your writing with you and share things with them 💜

[rosella-writes]

writing tag game

Thank you so much for the tag @noire-pandora, @kittynomsdeplume, @melisusthewee and @emerald-amidst-gold <3

Whoooo boy, here we go.

How many works do you have on AO3?

17, but quite a few are just one-shots. I only have a couple long-fics, mostly because my poor ADHD brain is cruel to me.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

190,052, but if I hadn't orphaned my old (and embarrassing) Skyrim and Sherlock fanfics it'd probably be closer to 300,000.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips - 579

i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted - 56

a fuller feeling (a brighter burst) - 54

Eunoia - 40

i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you (fuel the pyre of your enemies) - 39

(And to be perfectly honest, my most popular fic is by far my worst. I spend so much more time carefully crafting for Eunoia than I do anything else, but the little following it's picked up has made it worth more to me than all the kudos and comments on "honey.")

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! I used to be terrible about it, mostly because the vast majority of comments I once got was hate (I wrote for a weirdly unpopular wlw pairing). Now I make it a point to respond to every single one when I can, even the short ones, to thank them for taking the time. It means so much.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It was a drabble for the r/dragonage writing thread, actually! The premise was a font in the Black Emporium that would show your OC the outcome of a decision made differently. I wrote Eliana Lavellan from Eunoia discovering what would have happened if she'd fought with Solas in Crestwood until he told her the truth... and its outcome was worse than the timeline where he left her and kept his secret. You can read it here (it's about 1200 words, nice and short).

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My various Solavellan pairings don't get happy endings. Evelyn Lavellan was more of a narrative tool to explore Solas with, so her ending was cut short. Eliana doesn't have her ending yet, but it will be bitter and painful. My happiest ending was for my Bella/Rosalie pairing for Twilight - Bella became a vampire and lived happily ever after with her wife.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, unfortunately! Since my days on tumblr and FFNet, S*perWh*L*ck left a terrible taste in my mouth when it came to crossovers. I'd be open to it one day if I can find fandoms chill enough.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

As I previously mentioned, yes. In my Bella/Rosalie fic, I made it a point for Rosalie to love all the parts of Bella that weren't conventionally beautiful. My Bella is also a dark-skinned black woman, and the intersection of racism, colorism, and misogyny where it concerns attractiveness was something I thought worth including because I didn't see enough of it in fic. I wanted to highlight all the things that don't get enough attention or are actively reviled, like hyperpigmentation, stretch marks, natural hair, soft bellies, areolas and vulvas that aren't perfectly symmetrical or small, pubic hair and armpit hair and little hairs around nipples - things that I love about AFAB people! I got a lot of comments on my smut chapters calling Bella disgusting, or me nasty for choosing to include those traits. I deleted every single one.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So much. I love exploring pairings or power dynamics that people wouldn't necessarily consider, like a strong female warrior Lavellan domming Solas, or Solas topping Blackwall. I wanted to show a black woman in an interracial relationship with a white woman where she got to be soft and loved gently, where she got to be quiet, bookish, and looked after instead of expected to be the loud, strong stereotype that we pin black women into. I wanted to show the power of masculinity in an elven mage who loves a warrior woman (Solas/Cass), or the nurturing side of domming in a relationship between a pan giant and a bisexual elf (Iron Bull/Solas).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, tbh. I turn up to fandoms a decade late, so usually by the time I get any traction the fic-stealers have done their dirty work and leave me alone.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! I hope to one day write a fic in Greek for my best friend, though. They deserve to read about Solas in their mother-tongue.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but have done some plotting with aforesaid Greek friend.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Solavellan, absolutely. Any variation, honestly - I've loved m!Solavellan, f!Solavellan, as well as any variation including nonbinary, trans, or other interpretation of the relationship. Solas sees and loves the spirit, and I love the idea that its vessel doesn't matter so much to him. I headcanon him as a he/him agender bisexual, for what it's worth.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I've technically marked i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted as complete, but it cuts off right before Adamant and was intended to be a full Solavellan story. However, I just didn't care for my rogue f!Lavellan OC very much, and didn't think she matched Solas well. I developed an OC that I enjoyed writing much better and rolled with it. So, I'm sorry Evelyn Lavellan, but your story is frozen with the two of you happy in bed. Solas will never break up with her so long as I don't write that part, right?

What are your writing strengths?

I love dialogue and crafting character voices! Getting a comment that I've managed to portray a favorite character so well that they can hear their voice in their head as they read? Priceless.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Exposition vs description. I want to show instead of tell, but developing the right environment for a scene can be tough for me. It's so much easier to write that the characters are cold and the ground is wet than to wax poetic about dripping leaves and frosty air. But I'm working on it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm obsessed with it. I love little bits sprinkled through that make sense with context, and culturally speaking it would feel wrong not to sometimes! I'm also the type of person that's always been obsessed with languages, and instead of becoming fluent in one I've learned a smattering of a whole lot. So any opportunity to sneak in some French, Welsh, German when it makes sense? I'm taking it. And don't even get me started on Elvhen or Qunlat because I will sprinkle that shit like biodegradable glitter.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Okay I'm gonna flout this question and just write my fandoms in order:

Sherlock (circa 2010 - 2014)

Skyrim (2016)

Twilight (obsessed from 2005 - 2010 but didn't write for it until 2019 or 2020 when Midnight Sun released)

Dragon Age (March 2021 and easily the most fanfic I've ever written ever)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite one to write was probably i'd wanna be felled by you, but my favorite to reread is Eunoia. It's most likely the most honest, least presumptuous thing I've ever written, and it's easily the longest thing I've ever attempted. I'm very proud of it.

As far as tagging goes, I've been very rude lately with it by tagging people late in the day, or tagging folks that I haven't tagged before, and am still refiguring out tumblr etiquette (since I haven't been here since the days of the skeleton war and the Mishapocalypse lmao), so presume if you see this you're tagged to participate. With no expectations nor pressure, though, I'll tag @dreadfutures, @varric-tethras-editor and @blarfkey if they'd like. <3

[julemmaes]

Let Me In - October 2nd

Nesta Archeron x Cassian

Prompt sent by @noorismee (I’m sorry Tumblr kinda sucks and deleted the ask, I hope it’s just a one-time thing cause I could go insane)

“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

A/N: This was so cute to write and I really really miss my friends right now, cause I’ve just started uni and I don’t understand how many things works so I haven’t seen them in a very long time and writing about them is always kinda emotional. I hope y’all enjoy!

p.s. yesterday I made a mistake, cause I put the acotar general tag list instead of the tog one, so, sorry for the ones who found themselves there eheh

Word count: 2,587

Nesta wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so bad.

She had tried to take this exam four times in the last year. Twice in the winter session and twice in the summer one. Everyone had reassured her that the fifth time would be the good one, that this time she would be able to pass it with full marks.

"I'm sure you'll be the best in the class." Elain had told her only the day before.

So when she had arrived home, today, and had opened the email with the rankings and saw that she had failed again, she had screamed in frustration.

She grunted and dropped her head on the table, banging her forehead hard enough on the wood to make a loud thump. She rubbed her hands over her eyes, yawning and jerking when a flash of lightning lit the room as if it were daytime. She put her hands over her ears, waiting for the thunder and staring at the raindrops racing on the window glass, and when the noise stopped, she started reading one of the billions of theorems she had been studying for months.

She turned the pages until she found the chapter on the Fourier series and started to rewrite everything she needed to assimilate every little connotation of the theory so that she could apply it in practice.

She had been flipping through the book for hours, writing things and doing calculations that she knew by heart now. How was it possible that she knew everything so perfectly when she was at home and when she found herself in front of the test sheet, she forgot the logic behind it?

She picked up the phone to see the time and saw that it was ten forty-nine. She would not go to sleep until she had solved all the problems in the book.

A message appeared on the screen just as she was about to turn it off and she raised an eyebrow seeing who the sender was.

She had immediately informed him when she knew that she had failed the exam again, but then she hadn't waited for an answer and had put her phone aside.

Scrolling through the dozens of notifications - most of them from her best friend - she saw messages from her classmates asking her if she had passed.

When she got to the bottom of the list, she grimaced.

‘Did you eat?’

And a few minutes later, ‘Nesta?’

‘If you don't answer me within an hour and a half, I'm coming to your place.’

And then, exactly ninety minutes later, he had sent another message saying: ‘You asked for it. I'll be at your's in twenty minutes, half an hour max.’ followed by a strangely threatening text, ‘I'm pissed.’

Nesta grinned, muttering to herself, "Joke's on you, I won't open the door." and returned without too much thought to her math book.

Five minutes passed before she heard someone aggressively knocking on the door. She sighed, lifting her eyes from the numbers and pondering whether it was better to let him in or let him die outside in the cold and frost. She was about to get up, tell him that he should leave, when Cassian knocked harder on the door. She frowned.

"Arche! Open the fucking door, I'm freezing out here!" shouted the boy. Nesta laughed, looking at him through the peephole and leaning her hip against the wall.

She spoke loudly enough so that Cassian could hear her through the door, "And don't you think you should have asked my permission before coming here and busting my balls?"

She heard him snort and could imagine him closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, "Nesta, please," he seemed exasperated, "open this door and let me feed you."

Nesta raised an eyebrow, chuckling, "Feed me? What am I? A dog?"

"No, you idiot." he laughed on the other side, then, in a more serious tone he asked, "Have you eaten something?"

Nesta hesitated, "Sure."

"I can hear the bullshit from here." a little pause, "Come on, open up."

She opened the door slightly, watching him step forward and Nesta closed the door ajar, shaking her head, "Cassian I have to study." if she had let him in she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

His hair was damp and his usually dark-grey jacket was now black.

"Cassian," he repeated in a mocking tone and making a disgusted face, "what? Are you mad?"

She shook her head puffing, tapping her foot on the ground repeatedly. He followed the movement with his eyes. Looking back at her face, he said, "Even if you were, you wouldn't have the right to. I'm not the one who ignored his best friend all day." he put one hand on the door and pushed it, holding the pizza with the other.

When Nesta struggled to keep it closed again, Cassian laughed. They both knew very well that if he wanted to force his way into her apartment, he would have no problem doing so.

He took one look at her and made what she called whipped-dog-eyes, "I didn't get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you're sad, so let me in." She noticed only in that moment the bag hanging from his fingers. She leaned forward to help him hold it. She hated plastic bags so much, they always stretched out to cut off her hands when she had to carry them around.

Then she metabolized his words and opened her eyes wide, "Did you come on foot?"

She opened the door, stepped aside and let him in. Cassian trotted into the apartment, shaking his jacket off and passing the pizza to her, who moved so as not to get wet, "Are you crazy? It's four degrees outside and it's pouring."

He looked so pleased to finally be inside the house that he didn't seem to hear her.

Nesta placed the food and beer on the kitchen table, careful not to wet the books. She hurried to put everything aside and when Cassian came in and saw what she was doing she tightened her jaw. Nesta noticed.

"What?" she asked abruptly, "Everyone has their problems. You are a fool for leaving the house at ten o'clock without an umbrella and walking for half an hour in the middle of a storm and I am trying to make sure I have a future by studying, and if I have to do it in the evening, that's not going to stop me".

Cassian shrugged, "Az stole my umbrella and my mom needed the car."

A twinge of pain tightened her heart.

She shook her head, "Wait here, I'll go get you a dry sweatshirt, I should have one of yours."

He nodded and Nesta saw him as he started cutting the pizza, taking what necessary and setting the table. When he came back he was shirtless and was rattling his hair, squeezing it into the sink.

She froze on the kitchen door, admiring how the muscles on his back tensed with every slightest movement. It was not the first time she saw him without clothes, there had been many occasions, but it was rare for him to undress in front of her in such intimate surroundings. She cleared her voice, drawing Cassian's attention.

He turned towards her, smiling at her and Nesta thought she was going to die. It wasn't the usual cocky smile he usually gave everyone, it was sweet and sincere. She handed him the sweatshirt without saying anything and sat down.

The first bite of pizza - although it was gummy and cold - was an explosion of happiness in her stomach. She closed his eyes, moaning and took another bite out of the slice. Cassian sniggered, watching her as she finished her first slice.

"Geez, it's so good," said Nesta, with her mouth full of food. Cassian had an amused expression on his face. He nodded his head to the cartoon, "Have some more."

Nesta didn't hesitate and threw herself on the pizza, filling her plate. They ate in silence, enjoying each other's company. She thanked him only when she had cleaned the plate with the last crumb. He had belittled the whole thing by waving his hand mid-air, just saying that she didn't need to thank him, that it was his job to make sure she survived through this exam session.

When Cassian leaned forward on the table to grab a bottle of beer, Nesta stood up, grabbed the bottle opener and handed it to him. He was about to open the second one, when Nesta stopped him, "I'm not going to drink Cass, as soon as you leave I'll go back to studying and you know what alcohol does to me."

Cassian laughed and opened it anyway, pushing it towards her, "Come on Arche," she did not move and looked him in the eyes more serious than ever, "if you put it like that," he took back the beer and the smile died on his lips. He moved his gaze toward the window, "But I'm not leaving".

She moaned, "What the fuck, Cass." she put her hand in her hair, raising one leg and putting her foot on the chair, leaning her chin against her knee.

"I'm not leaving and I don't want to hear your lame excuses about why I can't stay" he looked at her and the worry in his features made Nesta stand at attention.

His tone became more gentle, "What happened today?"

She wiggled her head for the millionth time, frowning, "What do you mean? Nothing happened," and before he could answer her, she added, "except that I failed the mathematical analysis exam for the fifth time."

"Nes..." he passed his hand through his hair, unwinding it and dropping little water left and right. His eyes never left her face, looking for any sign that would give away her apparent calm.

"Cass." she repeated with the same tone. How could he be so good at reading through the lines? Lines that she hadn't even written, considering how good she had been at ignoring him all day long. She figured, that was also a clear sign that something was wrong.

Not even Tomas, her boyfriend, could understand that something was wrong and she had explicitly texted him "I don't feel very well, I'd rather be alone for today" to which he replied with a simple "Ok, talk to you tomorrow".

Maybe he didn't even care what was bothering his girlfriend so much. Surely he would have been angry, though, when he found out that Cassian had spent the night on her couch.

Cassian sighed, also putting down his beer, "You know, you need to talk about anything, I'm always here."

Nesta felt a lump forming in her throat, so she nodded weakly, not trusting her voice.

He looked into her eyes for a few more seconds and when she could no longer hold his gaze, she turned to her books, staring at the sheets of paper that came out of the pages.

"So," said Cassian, changing the subject for her sake, "what don't you understand about mathematical analysis?

She turned to him in surprise, "These aren't things you would understand."

She wasn't trying to insult him or make him feel less intelligent than she were, but the subjects that were studied in the third year of a math degree course required a broad knowledge of previous subjects. Subjects that Cassian would never have even approached while studying foreign languages and literatures.

"Oh, I know, I don't have a sufficiently developed brain for those things, but you need to be distracted and since you want to study so much, maybe you could repeat it to me." he smiled at her, getting up and standing in front of her, pointing to the living room with a nod of his chin, "Couch?

Nesta stared at him, wondering how it was possible that Cassian was her friend. She nodded, following him into the living room and sitting in front of him, her legs bent under her.

The second she opened the book, the black letters on the white pages seemed to cross over. They seemed to dance, not allowing her to read. She would have been able to explain it without reading, but fatigue was taking over. She closed the book, staring at the cover.

"Everything okay?" he asked with a hint of concern in his tone.

Nesta closed her eyes, carrying a hand over her eyes. Her breath started to tremble. She did not want to cry.

She felt Cassian move on the couch and then he hugged her, "Sweetheart?" he stroked her hair, while Nesta took the book out from among them and dropped it on the floor. She clutched to his chest and took a deep breath. The warmth of him seemed to relax her little or nothing and Nesta only wanted to stop feeling this icy cold that seemed to have been poured into her bones.

"I miss my mom," she whispered.

She heard Cassian swallowing, "I figured," he said in an equally silent tone, holding her tighter, "It's normal Arche, her anniversary is approaching."

Right. The anniversary of Amanda Archeron's death would be in a couple of weeks.

Nesta was convinced that Tomas couldn't even remember the month of her mother's death.

"She was so good. She graduated on time. She did everything perfectly. And I'm here and I can't pass this stupid exam," she said against his chest. Her mother went to the same university, she attended classes in the same halls. She had graduated with the highest grades.

Cassian moved slightly, placing his hand on one of her cheeks, caressing her just under the eye. He had a determined look in his eyes and when he spoke, Nesta knew she wouldn't be able to talk back.

"You managed to get this far for a reason. You are not stupid and the test you are trying to take is not easy. Your mother was a genius, it's true, and I understand that you think you are expected to do the same, but no one is going to use such a thing against you," he reassured her. "We are all on your side. The only one who doesn't believe in you, it seems, is also the only one who should." he smiled sweetly at her.

Nesta moved, fleeing that touch so familiar, so comforting.

"I'm sorry." she murmured.

Cassian was still hugging her, "For what?"

"For making you worry, I should have called you and told you right away. You wouldn't have had to come all the way here." she looked him in the face and found an amused expression there.

"I would have come anyway, Nes. Only sooner."

She smiled at him and hugged him again.

They watched an action movie until two in the morning, hugging on her couch. They didn't go to class the next day, staying locked in the house, eating all the junk they had managed to buy on their little trip to the mini market down the street.

Cassian had also managed to convince her not to touch the books for the day and it had taken a while for her to accept.

She just needed her person.

Looking to her right, she stretched her feet over his lap and he smiled at her.

She was kinda screwed.

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[christowhore]

PLEASE READ THIS! PLEASE READ THIS!..

P. S::this is NOT hate, I just want my voice to be heard because I am a victim and feel highly triggered by these posts. I understand that you have warnings for it but it doesn't make what you're doing any better. Even if you don't answer this ask and keep it in your inbox or most likely, delete it, I just want you to read it and try to understand where I'm coming from, you're a grown woman and should come to terms with your problems

ACTUAL ASK BELOW

Hey, could you explain to me why you write about rape/noncon. I'm sure as hell that it doesn't help readers who have been through rape come to terms with it, reading a psychopath Steve forcing his dick in you doesn't help anything. And no rape victim would want to remember a time in their life when they were forced to have sex against their will. It is so utterly disgusting to watch people send likes and comment gross stuff under those posts. Obviously, they find pleasure and thrill in it, if those posts where for the sake of rape victims they wouldn't be written like that or, they wouldn't even be there. Y'all are the same people that preach about giving victim's justice and bla bla bla but here u r disrespecting and violating them more than anyone else. DO BETTER!

hello natalie, i’m just gonna assume you meant to send this ask anonymously but forgot to click it since that’s what you did last night when you sent it in to a bunch of other writers. i truly think it’s wild how you’re telling dark fics writers what they should and shouldn’t be writing when you are coming on here typing this. don’t you think you should be practicing what you preach babe?

YOU are the one that’s being demanding. nobody is holding a gun to your head to read what we write. i can’t think of a single writer on this platform who writes dubcon/noncon works that don’t tag their works. most of the time it’s in big and bold letters TELLING you what the theme is as well as telling you to read at your own risk. YOU are the curator behind your reading consumption. YOU choose what YOU want to read. you don’t want to read it? move tf along !

look i’m sorry that you have gone through a traumatic event, and i wish i could take that pain away from you. i’m truly sorry that you have gone through it. but a lot of people have as well, including myself. it’s been a known thing, numerous articles have been made about it, that some individuals find a bit of relief when it comes to reading and writing dark materials like dubcon/noncon. it’s a way to help them cope. it might not be the best way to handle the situation for yourself, but it is for other people. you cannot under any circumstances tell people how to process their own trauma.

yes i am a grown woman, and yes i’ve come to terms with my own “problems”. and i’ve been able to handle the things that occurred in my past the best way FOR MYSELF, by reading and writing dark fics. you do not like it, i have a easy solution for you. go to general settings, click on filtering, and put in that you don’t want to see dark fics (ex: dark!steve, dark!bucky etc.) it’s that simple. the filtering on this hell hole app is one of the best.

if you want more information in regards to dark content, here is a wonderful post made including some articles on why writers write about the subject.

as a gentle reminder for people about my account: you are responsible for your own media consumption. i will mark all of my works with their respective warnings. viewer discretion is advised.

[orphaned-kiirokero]

My Hope (JHS)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst, Lil bit of Fluff, Mutual Pining, (old?)Best Friends to lovers

Word Count: 2,870

Summary:  You were only trying to forget the love you knew you could never have, but now you were trapped in a hell. You’ve had enough and you find yourself at the doorstep of the one who you truly loved, soaking wet and broken.

Warnings: Mentions of a domestic abusive relationship, verbal, emotional, light physical abuse (bruising), manipulation, gaslighting (kinda?), yelling, degradation (and not the smexy kind), light panicking, abusive isolation, just a lot of horrible shit. 

Note: PLEASE don’t read if the warning topics are triggering for you.

     Cold. That's all I could feel right now. My hands like icicles as the unforgiving frost of the city bit at the tips of my ears and nose. Was I really doing the right thing? My legs aching as I continued my journey to the only place I could turn to. He said he'd change. He always said that. Every time. Maybe this time will be different. How many times has it been? 5? 10? I've lost count, but I was stuck.

     1... 2... 3... I counted my steps to keep my mind off of the situation that plagued it. It was his fault, right? It wasn't mine? Would he have acted like that if it was anybody else? He's always been jealous. Insecure. Reassurance a constant sound coming from my vocal cords, only because I didn’t want to do the alternative. 

     18... 19... 20... Am I walking too slow? I should be there by now. Am I lost? Will I succumb to the cold in an alleyway all by myself? My feet like the stone statues that stood in the middle of the city. Their empty stares the only thing to keep me company. The patter of rain the only music filling my ears. Lonely. I was always so lonely. Even when the arms of the person I falsely gave my heart to were wrapped around my ever dying body.

     50... 51... 52... What happened to me? I used to be so happy. My smile a genuine painting on my face rather than a mask constantly in my hand. I used to have friends, family; I used to have him...A piece of me was taken away with every hateful word spat at me. I was no better than the cold stone men. The fire in my soul reduced to a pathetic ember. My glowing skin diminished into scratchy leather. My will to keep going now nothing more than a scrap of paper. Burnt. Torn. Crumpled.

     87... 88... 89... I had to do it. I couldn't take it anymore. My life had been ripped away from me. He trapped me in a hellscape with false promises of love. Lured me in with a chance to forget. To forget about him. Happiness... I wanted it back. I want my friends back. I wanted my family back. My hobbies, my freedom, him.

I wanted Hoseok back.

     "Who was that?" My boyfriend, Hajoon, snapped as I closed the door. "The new neighbor..." I faltered. Hajoon just scoffed and stood up. Walking towards me as my heart rate spiked. Not again. "Oh really? And what did he want?" He taunted, annoyance written all over his face. "H-he just wanted to introduce himself..." I stuttered. "Why are you stuttering? I swear you'd never survive without me. You're so pathetic." He huffed as he harshly grabbed my chin, making me look at him. "Don't talk to him again, got it?" I nodded and he let go. "You love me and you'd never leave me. Right Y/N?" He questioned. "Right... I'd never leave you..."

     "Hobi! How's the tour going!" I exclaimed, happy to get a call from my best friend. "Y/N! It's going well! It's been a blast performing and meeting Army's." He chirped. Hajoon was out, meaning that I could talk to Hoseok without worry. Hajoon never liked Hoseok. Whenever I would mention my beloved best friend, he would get angry. He would yell and me tell me I shouldn't talk to him. I didn't listen though, Hoseok has been with me through everything. I could never drop him. Never. "Why haven't you been visiting more, Y/N? We miss you!" Hoseok asked, a hint of sadness laced in his voice. "Ah, I would but... Hajoon doesn't like when I go out without him..." I hesitated. "Y/n... Hajoon doesn't own you. You can do things without his approval. You're an adult, okay?" Hoseok stated. "I know, but..." I froze as I heard the door open.

     "I-I gotta go, I'll talk to you when I can..." I panicked, hanging up the phone before Hoseok could say anything. "Y/n? Who are you talking to?" Hajoon called out. "M-my mom!" I called back, tears stinging my eyes but I refused to let them fall. "She just wanted to check up on me..." I quickly deleted my call history, leaving a call from my mom earlier today at the top. I knew that if Hajoon didn't believe me, he'd look at my call history. The last time I lied about who I was talking to, he yelled at me for hours. Hajoon walked into our shared bedroom staring coldly at me. "What did you guys talk about?" He asked. "She was just asking how my life is... telling me how they are..." I mumbled. "What did you say?" He commanded me to tell him. "I- I said I was fine..." Hajoon nodded, satisfied, and laid down on the bed, beckoning me into his arms.

     I complied, curling up next to him, my head in his chest. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew how he was treating me was wrong. He feared getting caught. Scared I'd run away. Slipping from his grasp. He was insecure. He needed someone to control in order to feel that he had power. Why did it have to be me? "I love you." He mumbled. I hesitated, not wanting to say those sacred words, but my mind when back to what happened every time I didn't say it back. 'I give you everything, yet you're so ungrateful?' 'You just take and take, don't you?' 'You'd have nothing without me!' 'You need me.'

"I- I love you too..."

     "Where the hell we're you?!" I winced at the sound of my yelling boyfriend. "I was out with friends... I told you last night that they wanted to go see a movie with me..." I mumbled. Fear and anxiety already coursing through my body. "And I thought I told you that I didn't want you to go?!" He screamed. Hoseok's words ran through my mind 'You're an adult'. That's the only reason I could pick myself up and go out. "I..." I stumbled out, "I'm an adult... I can make my own decisions..." The room was silent. I looked up to see Hajoon looking at me with an unreadable expression.

     "Oh, really?" He said in a monotone manner, scaring me even more. He wasn't yelling anymore, but I could tell he was mad, he was really mad. He started stepping towards me, causing me to back up, hitting my back against the empty living room wall. "Really?" He said again, this time in a more spiteful tone. He harshly grabbed my wrist, squeezing it tight. I cried out at the sudden pain. "You're an adult? You don't act like it. You're like a child leeching off of me, ungratefully taking everything from me, yet you want to say you're an adult?!" My eyes were watering and my heart rammed against my ribcage, I could hear the sound in my ears. "You made me quit my job... So I wouldn't have my own money..." I whispered. But he heard it, and he squeezed my wrist even tighter. "I do this because I love you." He stated. But I've had it, I've had enough. "No! No, you don't! You don't love me! This isn't love!"

     I struggled in his grip, managing to get free as I bolted for the door. I had to get out of there. I burst the door open and ran down the street. Ignoring the yells that came from behind me. I just kept running and running. Rain roughly hitting my face, mixing with the salty tears slipping from my eyes.

     I looked down at my bruising wrist, the sight not new to me. The bruise was like a bracelet to me now. An accessory I would wear to remind me I made him mad, and he went too far. I curled my knees against my chest, cold and wet, shivering in front of my best friend's door. I took my phone out of my pocket. 9 pm. When I got home it was 7, was I really running for that long?

     Hoseok's place was a 30-minute drive from mine, but walking/running was a different story. The twists and turns of the city streets adding on extra time to my commute. I didn't want to call him. It was Sunday night. Every Sunday night, Hoseok would go to BigHit's dance studio and practice more by himself, starting at 6 and ending at 8. Then the long drive back home. That was his Sunday routine. I didn't want to bother him. His dancing was important to him, and he loved it. I didn't want to ruin his night by interrupting him. I didn't want to be a bother.

     Irrational fears ran through my head, torturing me. Did I have any right to be here? Would he be mad at me? Why would he be mad at me? Please don't be mad at me. I can't handle it. I can't handle the yelling, the screaming. I can't handle the hate, the fake love. I couldn't handle being trapped. A dying bird in a rusty cage. I wanted freedom, craved it. Tonight, I finally got it. Now I just needed the warm, comforting arms and the smooth voice of my best friend to tell me everything is going to be okay.

     "Y-Y/n?" I looked up at the sound of my name and saw a worried-looking Hoseok, still dressed in workout clothes and a duffle bag in hand. As soon as I saw his face, tears spilled out of my eyes, "Hobi?" I hiccuped. He wasted no time rushing to me, kneeling in front of me, holding me close. "Y/n, you're soaking wet! What happened?" I couldn't answer him as I choked out tears. Hoseok could tell I was too hysterical to give him an answer, so he picked me up and walked inside his apartment.

     "Hey, hey, it's okay. I need you to calm down, Y/n. Can you do that for me?" Hoseok comforted me as brought me to the bathroom and sat me on the side of the tub. I nodded my head and Hoseok ran me through a breathing exercise. It didn’t calm me down entirely, but at least I could speak now. Hoseok kneeled in front of me and held one of my hands as the other one worked on wiping my tears away. "I'm sorry..." I whispered. "No, Y/n, I don't what to hear any of that. You have nothing to be sorry for." Hoseok stated, "But, what happened?"

     "Hajoon... Hajoon happened." I said, his name like tar in my mouth. Hoseok's face contorted in disgust. "I knew it..." He whispered to himself. I could see the mental battle he was having in his head plastered on his face. It read guilt and regret. He stood up and walked out of the bathroom. He soon returned with a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, handing them to me. "Go ahead and change, I don't want my sunshine to get sick." My heart skipped a beat at the old nickname he always used for me.

     Sunshine. He's been calling me that since forever. But when I got in a relationship with Hajoon, he stopped out of respect, since sunshine sounded so loving to Hajoon. I forgot just how much I missed it. Hajoon was never that loving to me, Hoseok treated me better than him from the start. Loving Hoseok scared me. He had a dream. He was a star and I was a nobody compared to him. I was scared I wasn't good enough for him. So when the puppy love between me and Hajoon started, I took it as an opportunity to keep me from impeding Hoseok and his dream. But it backfired, it backfired so badly.

     I stepped out of the bathroom, walking to the living room that seemed like a distant memory now. I remembered when I would practically spend days straight at Hoseok's house, even if he had work, it was my second home until Hajoon ripped that away from me. He told me that it was unfaithful to spend so much time at Hoseok’s, and not wanting to hurt his feelings, I listened to him. I was so stupid. Hoseok walked out the kitchen, dressed in lounge clothes, leftover takeout in hand as he motioned for me to sit down. I complied silently. We said nothing to each other, but we didn't have to. We didn't need to fill the silence with conversation just yet. We just needed each other.

     Hoseok set the food down on the table in front of us and sat down, grabbing pieces of food with a pair of chopsticks and feeding me. The loving gesture almost made me sob. After he deemed I was fed well, he wrapped his arms securely around me, holding me tight. Afraid that if he were to let go, someone would take me away from him again. "You can talk when you're ready." He whispered to me, petting my hair lovingly. I did just that. I talked and talked. Going on and on about how Hajoon would treat me, how he would yell and scream, how he would lash out than apologize afterward, promising to change. I told him how he didn't like me hanging out with my friends or visiting family. If I went out, he had to go with me. If I was on the phone, he had to know who was on the other side. If he told me he loved me, I had to say it back, or things wouldn't be pretty. "How long has this been going on?" Hoseok asked. "A couple months after we got together... It started out small, but then it spiraled. Before I knew it, I was trapped in a loveless relationship, too scared to run." I shivered as I sunk into Hoseok's arms even more.

"I'm so sorry, I should've been there," Hoseok whispered.

"It's okay Hobi, just... hold me."

"Why didn't you call me? You shouldn't have walked all the way over here."

"I knew you were practicing."

"Y/n," He breathed, "I'd drop anything for you."

"I know how important your job is to you Hobi..."

"You're more important."

     Silence engulfed us again, Hoseok gently rocking me back and forth. Loving Hoseok was scary, but I wouldn't hold myself back anymore. I wouldn't dance around the issue. I couldn't deny what my heart wanted and what it wanted all along. Last time I did, Hajoon reduced me to a scrap of myself. 

      Hajoon would hug me, but they weren’t like Hoseok’s. Hajoon would hold me, but it wasn’t like Hoseok. Hajoon said he loved me, but he wasn’t Hoseok. He was never Hoseok. He could never be Hoseok. 

"I didn't love him." I sniffled. "I never did. He wasn't the person I wanted, Hobi."

"Who did you want...?" Hoseok hesitated.

"I wanted my hope..." I choked out, tears threatening to fall again.

      Hoseok held me tighter. A stray tear fell on the top of my head, telling me he needed to hear that. That single tear told me so much. He regretted not being there for me through this. He felt like it was his fault. If only he knew, things would be different. If only he told me he loved me, this would've never happened.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" Hoseok croaked out, sniffling.

"I was just scared of what he would to do me..." I winced.

"Did he hurt you?" Hoseok asked.

I stayed silent. He pulled away to look me in the eye, his own tears glistening under the light.

"Sunshine. Did he hurt you?" He pressed.

I couldn't resist him whenever he called me that, so I just silently nodded.

"Where?"

     I showed him my wrist. The purple splotches wrapping around it reminding me of the invisible handcuffs Hajoon had me in for so long. "He's disgusting..." He scoffed, gently taking my wrist in his hands, examining the deep bruises. I unconsciously flinched, earning a look of sadness from Hoseok, more tears falling from his face. "Was this the first time?" I shook my head, causing Hoseok to take a deep breath. "Tomorrow, we'll go get your things and bring them here. I'll deal with him." I looked up at the man in front of me. Instead of his somber look, his face showed a mad one. Hoseok was always scary when mad. The aura that radiated off of him was a threatening one. "I don't want to go back there, Hobi..." I mumbled. Hoseok slowly put a hand on my cheek and stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. His moves were slow and gentle, not wanting to scare me. "Don't worry, he won't be there when we go."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He'll be rotting in a cell."

"...Jail?"

"He committed a crime, Y/n," He stated.

"...Thank you Hobi. I missed you..."

"I missed you too, sunshine. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you..."

"I love you..." I squeezed him tighter.

"I love you too, sunshine."

[gemmassong]

So uh. It’s 4:17am and I know literally no one cares but I just finished watching Bo Burnham’s new special and like, holy shit. I have some Feelings. And this is my fucking tumblr so unfortunately anyone who follows me can and will be subjected to those Feelings. Apologies in advance. I blame my high school English teacher for this, who I had for freshmen, junior, and senior year, because that cunt made as analyze and pick apart not just books but documentaries, movies, and other pieces of media to such an extreme degree I still blame her for a lot of my academic burnout and inability to really engage with my college courses because what was the fucking point. If I could write the best paper in the class and still not get a full score when my classmates with less well written shit did because I ‘wasn’t reaching my full potential or putting in as much effort as required’ why should I bother. 

Off topic. I’ll put the rest under a cut to be vaguely courteous because this is going to be a lot of semi-organized rambling that I’m putting here mostly so I can stare at it in baffled, disgusted horror at ~2pm tomorrow when I go back and reread it. And then decide not to delete it anyway because hey, I don’t delete anything because I enjoy tormenting myself years down the road.

I grew up with Bo Burnham, yeah? I knew all the lyrics to New Math when I was in middle school and you can bet your ass I understood like, four verses at the time I first started singing it. And I remember the vivid pleasure of going through high school and hating math because I suck at it (ayooo failed out of Calc senior year first semester~ (they weren’t called semesters in hs they were some quarterly thing but I don’t fucking remember the right term)) and the absolute joy realizing how one of those verses were clever was brought me. Like, every time I understood a new verse in New Math it made my entire day so much better. 

And then the summer after my first year of college I, for some fucking reason I cannot fathom now, 20 year old me thought it was a brilliant idea to decide to watch What. with my parents while we ate dinner. I had seen What. before. I knew what the contents entailed. I was apparently 100% down to watch him pretend to jack off on stage while eating taco salad in the living room with both of my parents who were so closed mouthed about sex that I got literally my entire sexual education from fanfiction. 

And then my cat had a seizure literally right before that scene so fate helped me escape that hell for some reason, and yes, Siren was fine after a very scary night.

But like. Still. What the fuck, 20 year old me. Why did you set yourself up for the mortifying experience of watching a comedian mime jacking off while sitting next to your mother. Why. 

So anyway. Bo Burnham was peripherally a part of my life for a very long time. I’ve always really liked him. I wish he had made more vines while vine was still a thing because the ‘is there anything better than pussy’ one still cracks me tf up. 

I saw a post here at some point about how the new special made someone feel like they’d just watched his suicide note. And I didn’t take it seriously, because yeah, Make Happy got kinda serious and stressful there at the end but like? 

Maaaaan am I glad I watched Inside though, despite being vaguely concerned. I totally get where that person was coming from. It does kinda feel like that. At the same time though, I just have this feeling that Inside is going to be important. 

Here’s where I finally get to the actual fucking point of the post.

Collectively, entertainment media is desperately trying right now to figure out how the hell to handle the pandemic. Ignore it? Pretend all media now exists in a universe where the shitstorm of 2020 didn’t exist? Most of the ones that I’ve seen have gone down what I consider the absolute worst route, which is of course terrible fucking writing that kind of? addresses the pandemic and shit that went down, but like, with clunky dialogue and really bad jokes. I’m mostly talking about the Roseanne spinoff/sequel/whatever the fuck it’s considered, of which I watched half an episode of and then silently begged my fiance to let us leave his mother��s house because she was laughing at it and it was genuinely, horrifically painful. This is why I don’t watch tv anymore. 

ANYWAY. He never mentions it. Not once. There are plenty of really relevant things discussed and pointed out and I think one? mention of the actual year 2020 but beyond that. Nothing. And I feel like Inside might be one of the most genuine, visceral, real pieces of media portraying the pandemic that we, as an American society anyway, are going to come away from this all with. At least everyone in my own admittedly piss poor social circles has spent like last ~year and a half doing that social media thing where the more you post about how well you’re doing and great it all is, the more miserable and bad off you really are.

(Yes, that is how I judge my ‘friends’’ relationships on facebook. The more pictures/posts/tagged shit/social media demonstrations of how ~amazing~ and ~in love~ and ~perfect~ everything is, the worse I assume the reality is.)

But Inside strikes as very, very real. And I just feel like 20 30 40 50 years from now, when we’re talking about the 2020 pandemic and how it shaped and shifted and effected and destroyed people and society, it’s going to be a very important piece of media. Because so far, anyway, it’s the first one I’ve seen where you can actually see it all go down. The absolute fucking breakdown so many of us went through. Dealing with worsening mental problems that had previously been getting better, lost progress, ruined plans and dreams and missed opportunities and everything else. 

It’s the first one that strikes as real, I guess. As not manufactured. Not tailored to portray the ‘correct’ message. Not diminishing or exaggerating anything but just... showing. Existing within the reality of the year. And not being apologetic or ashamed about it. 

I’m glad he actually went through with putting it out into the world. That probably took a whole lot to do, and I hope good things get to him for going through with it all. For completing it and giving it to the world. It was visceral and raw to watch and my piss poor attention span that needs 20+ tabs open at all times actually sat there and watched it, in full, all the way through in one go. Without pausing to read a fic, watch something else, check facebook or tumblr, answer a roleplay, or skim through omegle to see if anyone good was online. That’s like, unheard of these days.

I just. I dunno. There’s a lot there to breakdown. A part of me wants to do it, take the time and write the analysis and the breakdowns and pick out what I think the important bits are. But I hate doing that now and I’m sure the desire will be gone come afternoon-morning, along with all these weird feelings about it. 

This has gotten long enough and it’s 4:47 now, so half an hour of word vomiting into a tumblr post is probably too much. So I guess I’ll call it quits and maybe maybe not delete this when I wake up. Night, anyone who actually suffered through reading this mess.

[taxicabinmemphis]

Prince Charming - Chapter 5

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six

Word count - 3,332 Pairing - Intrulogical, Prinxiety, Moceit (I’m deleting the pre bc I have decided to have a chapter with them getting together) Warnings - some characters are a lil insensitive in spots but I wouldn’t call them unsympathetic, creativitwins angst, swearing, food mention, self-deprecation bc they’re all wrecks, pining, and then there’s Remus-typical behavior (body horror mentions, sexual innuendo/mentions of sexual stuff, and other stuff heh), if there’s anything else that should be tagged or put in the warnings, tell me!

After a hearty and delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs with a side of broccoli, the sides had all retired to get ready for bed. The adventure had gone terribly late, so dinner was later than they’d ever had it.

Logan stopped when he reached the door to his room. Yes, he knew that the next logical course of action would be to enter his room and get ready for bed, perhaps read a book as his stomach digested dinner, but he couldn’t help but remember how quiet Remus had been at dinner. He was never quiet.

His mind flashed back to what Roman said to Remus when they left the Imagination, and Logan clenched his left hand into a fist. Roman, while always striving to do what he saw to be the correct course of action, could also be awfully insensitive. Especially when he didn’t even know he was doing it.

Logan promptly turned on his heels and walked towards Remus’ room.

He ended up meeting the side in the hallway outside his room. Remus was walking alarmingly slow and seemed to be contemplating something.

“Remus,” Logan called, a good fifteen feet behind him.

The creative side jumped in surprise. He turned to face Logan, eyes widened. “Oh, uh, Logan! What brings you to the dark and hellish end of the hall?”

Logan fiddled with his tie nervously. “I came to ask you about something, Remus.”

Silence followed Logan’s statement, prompting Remus to speak. “Well? Fire away, my sexy robot!”

A pink dusted Logan’s cheeks at the nickname. “Yes. Umm...are you okay, Remus?”

Remus blinked. “Of course I am, Nerdy Wolverine!”

Logan frowned. “I believe that’s a falsehood, Remus.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Really? What can I do to convince ya? Rip my heart out and dissect it?”

Logan shook his head, adjusting his glasses. “No, none of that. Just...I remember what Roman said back when we exited the Imagination. It wasn’t kind, but he also had no cruel intentions. However, I could see that it...affected you. Are you okay? Do you require someone to...talk to?” Logan hoped he was doing this right.

Remus sighed and threw his hands in the air in resignation. “I might be okay. Does it matter?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Remus. It does. You are a part of Thomas’ mind and it is important that you are functioning properly.”

“Functioning…” Remus gave a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Look, Logan. Ultimately, I am fine. I can intrude on everyone’s well-being just as I could three hours ago. You can go to bed, you don’t need to worry.” He paused. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Logan frowned. “You are a side, essential to Thomas creating and acting like himself.”

“You don’t know that,” Remus disagreed, shaking his head.

Logan closed half of the distance between them, concern written all over his features. “Of course I know that. I can logically ascertain what exactly your worth is as a side, especially considering I spend a significant amount of time with you.”

“Maybe all that time you spent analyzing my contributions in preparation to shoot them down has clouded your judgement, Logan,” Remus replied, spitting out Logan’s name like it repulsed him—when in reality, it did nothing of the sort.

Was that really how Remus thought of Logan? Someone who only listens so he can later tell someone else why everything he said was wrong? Logan tried to be kind like he did with everyone else, and many of Remus’ ideas interested him. He gave him honest opinions, criticisms, and scientific observations on anything Remus pitched him. But did Remus only see him as an instrument of the intrusive side’s demise?

“Remus…”

“No, Logan, please,” Remus interrupted. “Don’t pretend to care.”

“When did I ever say anything about pretending?!” Logan exclaimed abruptly, widening his eyes and putting a hand over his mouth when he noticed his volume. Logan did his best to erase the surprise from his face and compose himself, clearing his throat and making sure to lower the volume of his voice before continuing. “I apologize for the outburst, Remus. However, you seem to have perplexed me with everything you have said so far during this conversation. Presently, I believe the statement to question is your most recent one and I will state that I am unaware of any action I took that would give you a reason to think I was engaging in a deception at your expense.”

“Oh, Logan, you know. Just drop it and go to sleep,” Remus said, turning around and waving his hand in dismissal.

“No, Remus, I’m afraid I don’t know,” Logan said honestly. “That troubles me. Could you elaborate, please?”

Remus turned around slowly. “Maybe you think you don’t know, so I’ll enlighten you.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve been assigned to listen to me. You have to listen to my crazy bullshit whenever I think it up. In return, I listen to your criticisms, opinions, scientific analyses, notes, whatever. Even when you go insanely far in depth into a topic I might’ve brought up with one of my...contributions, as you call them. It’s a trade, a deal. You have to listen to me and then I listen to you because it’s the least I can do. Neither of us would’ve chosen it on our own, we both hate it, and you know you have better things to do. Don’t pretend to care just because some extra time together allows you to know more about me than you should.”

Logan processed what Remus said, staying unmoving only with the exception of blinking. This is what Remus thought of their arrangement? That he hated it, that he thought Logan hated it, that he forgot Logan was the one to suggest the arrangement in the first place? Janus’ words at the end of their sword fight rang through his head. Logan had been scared that Remus, the one side who listened to him, only did so out of courtesy. And he did. Logan’s fear was a reality.

“You forget that I suggested this...arrangement, as you call it. I was the one who pitched it to Thomas. I chose to do this, and do I have anything better to do? That’s subjective, so I don’t know. I am sorry this arrangement you hate so much has ended up being a prison rather than a way to save Thomas distress while not repressing you at the same time, so if there’s anything I can do to make the experience more pleasurable, I am open to hearing it. However, you are also mistaken that I hate it. I do not, I am incapable of such emotions. Though--”

“No you’re not,” Remus said, voice having a shocked tone caused by Logan’s previous statements and admissions.

“Sorry, what?”

“You’re not ‘incapable of such emotions’, you’re not some heartless robot without a soul. You have feelings, Logan, and I’ve seen them,” Remus elaborated, shock slowly dissolving from his tone.

“That’s ridiculous, you even called me a robot-”

Remus shook his head. “No. I’ve seen you interested by anything remotely scientific I bring up, I’ve seen you as burnt as black toast after I’ve talked to you for a particularly long time, I’ve seen you immediately after a conversation with the others when you have a desperate need to be listened to because they refused to, I’ve seen you embarrassed, I’ve seen you flustered—yes, I caught you burying your face in your hands today—and you just said you care about me. Even though that likely isn’t true, you have demonstrated care for Patton, Roman, and Virgil as well. Even just one of those examples is enough to prove you have feelings.”

Logan was silent for a few seconds, his weight shifting from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at Remus himself. Accepting that he couldn’t argue with most of Remus’ statements without communicating a falsehood, he decided to argue over the only one he could. “I do indeed care about you. It’s not just Patton, Roman, and Virgil. How could it be, considering only you listen?”

“I…” Remus tried to think of a good response. “I bother you. I wear you out. I give you all these terrible things to go through, forcing you to pick them apart like a medical examiner does with a rotting corpse, despite how disgusting and terrible they may be. I occupy way more of your time than I should, and I guess I’m sorry for that, so how could you care? I wouldn’t.”

Logan didn’t quite know how to respond. He wasn’t aware Remus thought so lowly of himself. He contemplated his reply.

“See? It’s not that hard to-”

Logan raised his hand as a demand for silence. Remus shut his mouth, only complying out of surprise. He waited as Logan carefully pondered what he would say next.

“Falsehood,” Logan said gently, starting his response. “None of those things are true. You shouldn’t be suspecting such things either, considering you have no way to know your effects on me. I want to say I wish you hadn’t said that, but I couldn’t do so with honesty, since my real wish is for you to never have thought—much less, believed—those falsehoods in the first place. However, I am considering your previous behavior and would postulate you do not believe me as I have not done anything to prove your statements are falsehoods. Would I be correct in saying this, Remus?”

Remus took a moment to respond, still processing Logan’s response. “I..uhh...yeah.”

Logan nodded. “First, you do not bother me. To bother someone is to trouble or annoy someone by interrupting or causing inconvenience. Considering that I volunteered to be in your company—which immediately debunks anything related to interruptions—and that my time with you makes you cause less inconvenience, you neither cause interruptions nor inconvenience to befall me. You don’t trouble me either. I spend time with you so don’t trouble anyone. And, everyone annoys me. So even if you did, which I don’t find to always be true, you wouldn’t be alone in that regard. You don’t wear me out too often either. Working with you only requires my ears and my brainpower, neither of which take much out of me since you rarely say anything that troubles me or forces me to contemplate problems that drain me. When you do, the reasons are typically seeded in my scientific curiosity for something you might’ve brought up, which is something I can in no way blame on you. To be candid, your company can be a relief, especially after dealing with the others.”

“That makes less sense than glow-in-the-dark lungs.”

“I’m not finished,” Logan stated, trying to be as kind as possible. “But if you would like me to restate what I just said-”

“No,” Remus shook his head. “I understand what you said...it’s just...how? How is that the truth?”

Logan’s face softened. “I am Logic, Remus. Many things that would normally affect a person or another side in a certain way will affect me in different ways or not at all. Your contributions don’t bother me as I am aware of their detachment from reality and get less disgusted at them than the others. And you listen to me, which is a far cry away from being a nuisance.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Remus said, shrugging.

Logan gave a small smile. It was hardly visible, but to Remus, it was as if Logan was grinning. Remus relished in the sight, hoping he could see it again soon and wishing it was something he could gaze at every day till the end of time. Logan never smiled, and Remus causing it made him all the happier.

“I am pleased to hear that you understand that I care for you,” Logan said, voice quiet and gentle. “Now, back to my original question. Are you okay?”

Remus turned his head to the side. “I was hoping you’d forget about the question.”

“Yes or no?” Logan pressed.

Remus took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “No.”

Logan nodded, taking a small and cautious step forward. “Do you require someone to talk to?”

Remus opened an eye and peered at Logan. “I don’t need anything, Pocket Protector.”

“Would you like someone to talk to?” Logan rephrased.

Remus shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to listen to me.”

“I already do.”

Remus gulped. “Alright. Yes, I suppose I would.”

Remus took a moment to gather his words, facing the floor but eyes flicking up to look at Logan every other second.

“Well, you were right,” he started. “About Roman, I mean. It was his comment. I know it’s kind of silly-”

“It’s nothing of the sort, he was out of line.”

“-But it still hurt. And yeah, he said none of us besides him were heroic and charming or whatever instead of just me, but still. It was directed towards me, and...he’s not wrong. I’m the resident villain. He’s the hero. I’ll never be heroic, or charming, or romantic while he can go and sweep Virgil off his feet. I guess his comment was just a wake-up call,” Remus continued. “I know he didn’t mean it to be mean and he’s just nowhere near being self-aware enough to take note of his insensitivity, but I still let it affect me. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

“It’s fine if his comment got to you, Remus,” Logan said, taking another small step forward. “Roman says things like that sometimes without knowing what their consequences could be, and so it likely did mean nothing, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be able to hurt you, or that you’re wrong for letting it. But you also have to acknowledge that he’s wrong, and not view it as a wake-up call of sorts.”

Remus frowned, making eye contact with Logan. “What do you mean? I’m the evil murdery green side who will pull your teeth out and string them on a necklace if you’re not careful. Of course he’s right.”

“I suppose it’s a matter of perspective. Anyone can be a villain in the eyes of someone else. However, any establishment that a certain person is a villain ‘factually’ would be incorrect as the concepts of good and bad are arguably meaningless and any action can be seen as wrong or right in the eyes of another human. There is no truth in opinions, only preference.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“You may be a villain in Roman’s eyes, you can be a villain in your own eyes if you so choose, however, there is nothing that can or will establish you as a villain for everyone forever.”

“So to Roman, I’m a villain,” Remus said slowly, trying to understand.

“Maybe, he could have just been exaggerating,” Logan said quickly. “He also sees everything as very black-or-white, which I imagine contributes a great deal as well.”

Remus nodded slowly. “And I can see myself however I want.”

“Though I’d prefer that you see yourself positively or neutrally. A negative self-image is never good.”

“And you…” Remus trailed, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t care for labeling those types of things. I do see you as a positive influence on my existence if that was your question.”

Remus grinned brightly. “That answer is better than fermented semen!”

There was an awkward silence between them.

“Do you honestly believe you can’t be heroic, charming, and romantic?” Logan asked quietly, not wanting to scare off the intrusive side.

Remus stared, surprised by Logan’s question. “It’s not an opinion, Logan, it’s fact. I’m a duke, not a prince.”

“And royal status dictates those traits?”

Remus shook his head. “No...I’m just not those things.”

Logan frowned. “Do you want to be?”

Remus took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reply without confusing the nerd. “No. I know none of them fit my personality, and I don’t want them too. Especially charming. But...it might be nice to experience once. To prove Roman wrong and that it isn’t impossible for me to have the traits of a hero.”

“There are no specifically assigned traits to heroes, Remus,” Logan said, tightening his tie. “However, you can act however you want within the bounds of acceptable reality.”

“I can?” Remus asked, a smirk on his face. He started to take a couple of steps closer to Logan but stopped a good four feet away.

“Yes, you can,” Logan replied, voice quieter at Remus’ confident advance. The logical side shuffled his feet back, only moving a couple of inches.

“Do you think I’m heroic?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Do you think I’m charming?” He took a step closer.

“I-I don’t-”

Remus took another step, a larger one, closer to the logical side. There was likely only six inches between them. He stared deep into his eyes, a fiery passion for the visually impaired nerd burning hotter than any star Logan could name.

“Do you think I’m romantic?”

“I…”

Logan’s words died in his throat as he met Remus’ eyes. Remus, who was intrusive, offensive, bad to the bone, impolite, occasionally funny, interested in certain sciences, and strived to learn whatever Logan could teach. Remus, the only one who ever listened.

“You can if you want to be,” Logan said quietly, finally able to speak but never louder than the volume he was currently speaking at.

Remus hummed and pulled Logan flush against him by the waist.

“Remus?” Logan asked nervously.

“What is it, my bashful brainiac?”

“Do you really hate our arrangement?” Logan asked quietly, the question so painful to ask but the answer was something he needed to know before anything else happened. “And do you only listen out of courtesy?”

Remus sighed, running his free hand through the logical side’s hair. “Not one bit. And you are the most interesting person I’ve ever spoken to.”

Logan let another small smile cross his face and glanced at his feet.

“So I can be romantic, hmm?”

Logan nodded.

Remus smirked. He swept Logan into a dip—one arm around Logan’s thigh, lifting his leg into the air, and the other arm around his shoulders. Remus gazed lovingly into Logan’s shocked brown eyes and admired the red face of his nerd, giving the side a second to process what he did. He then dipped his gaze to Logan’s lips and flicked his tongue across his own.

“May I?”

Logan gulped before nodding.

Remus immediately crashed his lips against Logan’s; the simple nod of Logan’s head acting like a lamp that just turned on and Remus’ lips being their loyal moth.

Logan was still shocked from previous events when Remus’ lips met his, his eyes still open. Remus didn’t hate him, which was a plus, and now Remus was expressing romantic interest in him? He couldn’t believe it.

Yet, it was still happening. Logan closed his eyes, put a hand on the nape of Remus’ neck, and deepened the kiss.

It was something both were desperate for, something they had both wanted for ages—no matter how long they were aware of their romantic feelings for the other.

And so they dissolved into the other: Logan melting wherever Remus’ hands met his body, and Remus putting his desperation and need for Logan on clear display as he kissed him like he never would get to again. Remus got to be romantic, Logan was treated like a beautiful princess, and they both felt so incredibly loved.

The kiss eventually had to come to end, so when they both remembered they had to breathe, they pulled away and opened their eyes. Remus kept Logan in a dip and looked down at him like he was the loveliest thing to ever walk the earth. This only reddened Logan’s cheeks further. Remus gave him the fondest, most loving smile he could muster.

“I suppose I can be romantic.”

~

Taglist: @the-sympathetic-villain​ @justanotherhumanstuff​ @thistledown15​

~

This was technically the end of this story, but I do have a Moceit themed sequel that I have decided will just be chapter six. After that, hopefully it’ll be done! Hope you liked this chapter. Sorry, I meant to get this to you on Thursday but homework piled up and I just had a bad day Saturday so it’s coming to y’all now. (Also um you may have guessed but the image of Remus dipping Logan popped into my head and inspired this fic. It was 18k longer than expected)