#I'm going to be airing out all of my grievances over the next few days

[monsteraficionado]

One of the things that keep bothering me about the whole reaction to Watcher TV is the fully malicious misunderstanding of what Worth It was by people who clearly never watched an episode of it.

It's how people kept insisting that the only thing Steven (because neither Andrew nor Adam were ever mentioned. Much to think about) did was eating gold and ridiculously expensive food, when Worth It always was about showing how excellent food can be found at any price point. One of their earliest featured restaurants, Pasta Sisters, even got to open more locations because of the people visiting because of Worth It.

Especially how Worth It quickly evolved into focusing in highlighting underrepresented cultures, featuring tiny businesses helmed by minorities and showing how haute cuisine isn't only white people cuisine. The highest price point also became lower overtime, and instead of featuring dishes with truffle, caviar and/or gold, they started featuring dishes with incredibly elaborate and labor-intensive recipes.

Worth It always was a celebration of food and how it intertwines with culture, and that is still at the heart of everything Steven Lim does, and if you aren't willing to get this, I instantly know you are just complaining because you like bandwagons and you just aren't worth it.

[mytheoristavenue]

CSM Aki Hayakawa x Reader 🍋 - Attitude Adjustment

Kinktober 2024 IV

Snowballing + Hair pulling

Summary: Aki has warned you, his new partner not to nag him countless times. You just don't listen, do you?

Warnings: Snowballing, cum eating, hair pulling, oral (m!receiving), fem!reader, brat taming, degradation, praise, spoilers for anime/vol. 3 manga, brat!reader

"Do you have to smoke every five minutes?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes and fanning the smoke away from your face. "I can feel my lungs deteriorating just walking beside you."

"Then walk in front of me." Aki simply replied, taking a long drag off his cigarette and purposefully exhaling from the corner of his mouth. You coughed dramatically in response, batting the air.

"So you can stare at my ass all day? As if!" You retorted with a pout.

"I'm not that kinda guy," He reminded you sternly, finishing off his smoke and dropping the butt, stepping on it as he went.

"All guys are that kinda guy," You sneered, stepping in front of him despite your protests. "No matter how hard they try to hide it."

You and Aki had only worked together for a few weeks, following the simultaneous deaths of your partners. Needless to say, you vexed one another greatly. You were both the 'glass half empty' type, and your late partners were the opposite, making for great dynamics, but this- this was never going to work, you were simply too alike. However, you differed in one way: Aki tended to keep most of his grievances to himself while you were never shy about voicing them. Every single minute one.

You nagged him for smoking, his recklessness, his gloomy demeanor, everything. At every turn, he was met with your attitude, making him all the more stormy. He'd appealed to Makima for a new partner multiple times but she wouldn't budge. He was truly stuck with you.

"God, you know coffee is allowed to taste good, right?" Here you were with your snide remarks again, bringing him coffee like you did every morning. "I'll never understand why you like plain black coffee."

"I don't know, at least it's now weighed down with sugar like that crap you drink." He scoffed, taking it from you as he exited his apartment with you in tow.

"At least I enjoy the crap I put in my body." You rolled your eyes. Aki smirked at you- for possibly the first time- over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I bet you do." He laughed dryly. "Bet you love putting crap in your body, huh?"

Your eyes widened and your entire face reddened, up to the tips of your ears. "S-Shut up! Are you calling me a whore?!" Well, that was new. In all the time he'd known you, he'd never seen you get flustered like this.

"I didn't say that," He deadpanned before smirking again, pausing, causing you to collide with his back. "But if the shoe fits..."

"W-Whatever, like I care what you think!" You pouted, backing away a few steps as he turned to face you.

"Oh, I think you might," He teased. "Why else would your face be so red, hmm?"

You steeled yourself, unused to him bullying you in such a way, before smirking deviously up at him. "I'm not worried, I've heard about your reputation." You snickered, feeling as if you were gaining the upper hand. Little did you know, your next words would seal your fate. "Even if you did have an effect on me, you wouldn't know what to do with me."

Aki's expression darkened, taking the insult as a challenge. His hand found your wrist as he chuckled. "You think so?"

Your victorious demanor fell when you saw his shift but you doubled down. "Yeah, I do." Before you knew it, he had stormed off passed you, back towards his apartment building, dragging you along behind him. The heat in your cheeks returned and you limply followed, understanding that challenging him was a mistake. "H-Hey, wait, where are we going?" You asked meekly, despite already knowing.

"Back to my place." He said sternly. "To test out those bold claims of yours." You gulped as you crossed the threshold to his building, immediately being pulled to the elevator. Once inside, he eagerly pressed the button to prematurely close the doors, followed by his floor number.

"A-Aki, I was joking..." You muttered nervously. "B-Besides, we have to get to work, we're gonna be late."

"We got stuck in traffic." He answered firmly. "Right?" He glanced at you with a sharp pointed stare. You got the hint.

"R-Right."

The remaining minute of the elevator ride felt like it lasted an hour, tension in the air thick enough to choke on. "Aki, I-"

"Don't." He cut you off, and you obeyed instantly, which made him giddy on the inside. "It's obvious that something has to give before we can get along and I know just the thing to clear the air."

You swallowed as the doors opened and he took your wrist again, speed walking down the hall. He wasted no time in unlocking the door and pulling you inside. "W-What's that?" You asked bravely, stepping inside.

He shut and locked the door behind you with a disturbingly calm smile before approaching. "You just need an attitude adjustment."

-----

Everything had moved so quickly that you could hardly grasp the chain of events. One moment, you were pushed against his front door, whimpering softly as his lips trailed down your throat. The next you were sat on the floor, sitting between his knees on his balcony, obediently slobbering in his lap. His fingers languidly raked through your hair, balling into a fist any time you made the smallest mistake or noise. His other hand held a lit cigeratte to his lips.

Suddenly, his grip on your scalp tightened and he yanked your head up with a peaceful smile. "Hey," He murmured, as if he didn't already have your full attention. "Try it." He insisted, pressing his cigarette to your lips. You looked up at him pleadingly, eyes wet, drool and pre coating your mouth.

Hesitantly, you parted your lips, earning a small smile from him. "Atta girl, breathe in." You did as he instructed, inhaling the smoke deeply before choking on it at couching roughly. "It's okay, baby, everyone coughs the first time." He soothed, releasing your hair to pet it softly. "There, now that's you've smoked, you're not gonna bitch at me for doing it anymore, are you?"

"N-No..." You answered shyly, laying your head in his lap, and staring up at him. Your cheek squished against his toned thigh and your eyes sparkled with admiration as you peeked through wet lashes.

"You know, you're kinda pretty when you're not nagging.." Aki chuckled, taking another drag from his cigarette, holding the smoke in his cheeks for a bit before parting his jaws. The way it slowly billowed out over his lips mesmerized you, finding it almost hypnotic how he looked in this light.

His hair was down, the first time you'd seen it that way, the band having been long since discarded, now at home on his wrist. His jacket was slung over the back of the chair, tie loose and dangling around his neck with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. "I knew you could be good, you just needed a little incentive." He mused with a peaceful smile. "Now c'mon and finish the job, baby. Quietly."

It crossed your mind to protest, but this was the nicest he'd been to you and you adored how it made you feel. Almost immediately, you went back to work, wrapping your manicured hands around his shaft, pumping lazily before guiding his tip to your lips. You took him as deeply as you could, bobbing your head up and down, letting him slide in and out of your throat.

Aki let you do all the work, figuring you owed him that much at least for putting up with your nonsense. His head lulled back against his nape, cigarette hanging from his lips as he let go of what could only be described as the prettiest sounds you'd ever heard. His voice was deep and breathy, moans all coming from the back of his throat as he let you work. He could feel when you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him more insistently, stroking what you couldn't take with a spit coated hand.

His fist tightened further in your hair, tugging at your scalp more harshly the closer he got. Your eyes rolled back a bit at the firm pull, pulling a string of whimpers from your throat, vibrations only serving to spur him on further. Eventually, you felt him push your head down, burying your face in his lap as his hips instinctively began to jerk. You immediately relinquished control, letting him set a quicker pace than you previously kept.

All you could do was sit there and take his abuse as he repeatedly hit your gag reflex, totally unbothered by the grotesque sounds that came as a result. "Ahhh, fuck," He hissed, on the verge of tipping into oblivion. "Just a little more, be so quiet for me, pretty girl." He hushed, crushing the end of his cigarette in his teeth. You steeled yourself in an effort to silence the lewd reactions you were giving, wanting nothing more than to please him.

Within moments, you could feel warm spurts splash your uvula, startling you briefly. He never stopped or pulled out like you'd expected. He simply held your head still as he rode through his high, fucking more seed into your pretty mouth. He could feel your throat begin to tense with the action of swallowing, your mouth too full to resist. "D-Don't swallow," He demanded, trailing a hand down to your throat, squeezing lightly to prevent the reaction. "Don't you fuckin' dare."

You looked up at him with glistening eyes, silently pleading for relief from your full cheeks, but he wouldn't budge. Aki slowly and carefully began to pull out, his stone face hiding animalistic desire. "Kiss me," He finally sighed, slumping in the chair, hoisting you up by your hair. You eagerly crawled up, standing on your knees as he knelt down, pressing his lips to yours.

You had expected a brief peck but, Aki was full of surprises. Instead, you were met with a hot, open-mouthed kiss, his lips kneading against yours as his tongue parted them, letting his jizz flood into his mouth. You were too dazed with the intensity of the moment to notice when he'd begun to swallow, little by little. Before you knew it, there was hardly anything left but a small puddle under his tongue which was the remnant of what had been passed back and forth. Then, he pulled back.

"If you could be this good at listening at work, we might get somewhere." He grinned wolfishly.

-----

Your mood shift was monumental and could be felt all throughout the office. Many remarked that you were suddenly like an entirely different person ever since the day you were both late. You always dismissed the rumors with some boring excuse, and this time was no exception.

"My my," Makima mused, stirring her fresh cup of coffee in the break room. "You seem to be quite chipper as of late. Any particular reason?"

"Not at all!" You beamed sweetly, pouring a cup of plain black coffee and setting it to the side. "I just love my job, that's all. I enjoy being here." She eyed you knowingly as you began pouring a second cup, dumping loads of sweetness into it.

"I trust you and Aki have settled your differences, then?" She asked, leaning against the counter. "Is that for him?"

You nodded sheepishly. "We had a nice heart-to-heart." You smiled softly, picking up both finished cups and heading for the door.

"I'm so glad to hear that, I thought I was going to have to reassign you both." Your boss smiled after you, not deceived in the slightest.

You paid no attention to her interest, happily trotting off to find your partner, greeting him with a sweet smile, which he graciously returned. "Morning, Aki! I brought your coffee, black just how you like it!"

Your change in demeanor warmed his heart and he gently took the cup from you. "You're too sweet for me," He cooed, sipping it with a satisfied sigh. "I wonder what's had you in such a good mood lately."

You glared at him playful, hardly amused with his coy attitude. "You know exactly what it is, dummy." Ever since that first occasion, you'd spent multiple nights together, activities far surpassing just oral. Aki chuckled a bit, leaning into your ear conspiratorially.

"There that pesky little attitude again... Why don't I fuck it out of you again tonight?"

[dootdootwriting]

Can I have an enemies to lovers headcanon for fem!reader x Lisa or Ningguang? I love your writing, so keep up the good work!

featuring: lisa; ningguang (separately) tw: rivalry, the fuck word type: enemies/rivals to lovers pronouns used: she/her a/n: as i always say i write for the girls and the gays and THIS ONE goes out to the GAY GIRLS LET'S GO LESBIANS LET'S GO request | genshin masterlist | discord server

under the cut for length

LISA

honestly, it's pretty difficult to be "enemies" to lovers with lisa. instead i'd say you're most likely more of an academic rival

you've known each other since your days at the akademia, and somehow, you've mirrored each others' journeys after graduation.

while lisa joined the knights first, you (without knowing she had done this) followed only a few months later and were incredibly surprised to see her as a newly hired librarian

"oh? well, if it isn't my little shadow. you must be awfully obsessed with me to follow me all the way to mondstadt~ are you sure you aren't in love with me after all?"

you hate her.

you hate how often your job takes you to the knights' library

you hate how she's there, somehow, as if she lives there or something?? every single time you enter

you hate how whenever you bump into her she just has to make another stupid comment about how much her research has helped people this month. how's your work going?

you hate her stupid smirk that she gives you every time you huff at her

and she hates the way your nose scrunches up when she flicks it teasingly, the way you look away from her when she flirts with just the tiniest bit of malice

she hates the fire in your eyes that blazes when you glare at her

and then the both of you start to realize that actually that "hatred" that had been fueling you to do even better might not have been hatred at all, and "oh fuck maybe i'm in love with her."

the next time you meet lisa "accidentally" in the library, you spend time with her on purpose, at the end of which she confesses

she tilts your head up just slightly with her hand, then moves it to cup your cheek and pull you in for a kiss

her lips are frustratingly soft and taste like her rose chapstick

"hmm, you know, i just did that to test a theory, and i think i may have been correct. i am in love with you, after all"

she gives you a moment to short circuit and marvels internally at how your face heats up and you try to think of a retort

instead, ever competitive, you kiss her back, determined for yours to be even better.

NINGGUANG

the two of you had grown up together as childhood friends

while ningguang's dreams took her up the social ladder and into high society, your place had always been to stay and take care of the people who'd helped raise you

you understood ningguang's ideals, but yours had always been different. as such, every so often, she would pay a visit to you and your shared home neighborhood and asks what everyone needs for an improved quality of life.

this is called "the airing of the grievances," aka "you complain to ningguang about everything the liyue qixing is failing at and everything she has to singlehandedly change about the government."

over time, this had put a strain on your relationship - that is, until one day when after you aired your grievances, ningguang snapped at you and explained in an extremely clipped voice for an extended period of time how she was not singularly responsible for the entire liyue government and she was frankly getting sick of only getting complaints when she came to visit

which... well. now you feel bad. damn.

the next time she came to visit you apologized, which took her by surprise, and gave her a detailed list of some of the problems your neighbors were having

instead of rolling her eyes and swishing away dismissively like usual, ningguang looked at the list, nodded, and thanked you

and eventually, every visit became almost like a little date

ningguang would show up, you would greet her, and she would treat you to a meal at the local café, where you would go over some of the issues of the past few months.

and over time, ningguang began visiting more and more, and there were fewer and fewer issues for your neighbors to report. your conversations over tea became less about things ningguang could do and more about your day-to-day lives, occasional jokes, and even flirting.

and soon, you realized that you were literally just going on dates with a woman who, only a few years ago, you had hated the guts of

ningguang realized this at roughly the same time

at your next meeting, ningguang sat you down at a more secluded table than usual, and confronted you about this

"my apologies, it seems it's taken me quite a while to realize this, but... are we, perhaps, girlfriends?"

honestly, hearing that come out of her mouth, it's impossible not to laugh at least a little bit.

"yeah, honestly, i think we are."

[oboetemasuka]

Kicked out

An "Order of Attack" side story.

Part of a writing trade with @good-beanswrites.

Chapter 14 ends on a cliffhanger and doesn't explore the fallout. The next time you see Fuuta and Amane, they're doing better.

But what happened in between those chapters?

(cw: suicidal thoughts, cult mentality)

Amane curled herself up tightly under the blankets. It caused a terrible strain on her ribs, but she deserved it. Now she understood how the cat felt. She might even understand how Fuuta felt.

She thought that just because she could overcome her own trials, he could too. It hadn't dawned on her how much worse he had it. Fighting to breathe, too pained to move… Oh, how could she take it for granted? Just a few months of (relative) freedom, and now she thought everyone was on a brighter road. If she had to be stuck like this every day, trapped in the dark under Kirisaki Shidou's constant watch, wondering if Kotoko was going to return, would she too wish for the pain to go away permanently?

She should apologize to Fuuta. Tell him she was so caught up in her own world that she didn't consider other people's suffering. But she couldn't. The day she left, Shidou had closed the proverbial (and literal) door behind her. When she had returned the next day, he gave her a stern lecture.

"I will not allow you to see Kajiyama-kun again after all the harm you've caused him. You've proven time and time again that you can't be trusted around him. Sabotaging your healthcare is one thing, but inciting him to do the same? He is in a very vulnerable mental state right now. I will not have you pose a danger to him."

Was this how the good doctor would finally take her seriously? As a danger. A liability. If she would just stay out of the way, then Fuuta might finally-

Light filtered in through the blanket. The sound of quietly approaching footsteps echoed through the room.

"Amane-chan…" Of course. Who else would come to visit but Mahiru? "Do you need help?"

In response, Amane let out an animalistic growl, which was apparently considered an affirmative. A blinding light poured into her eyes as the blanket was lifted off her face.

"Amane-chan! Can you even breathe-"

Amane uncurled herself painfully, but she also accepted Mahiru's help this time. Anything to not have her running off to that doctor again. But she couldn't meet her eyes.

"You don't have to answer..." As if she would take silence for an answer. "But I'm really worried. You haven't run off like this since…"

Since the day Amane was discharged from the doctor's care. She never wanted to relive the helplessness and fear of being attacked, and yet she was doing that all over again. All she had to do was cry into Mahiru's shoulder, and the scene would be complete.

She would not put that final piece in place.

So they just sat in silence. Amane fought not to fall over.

Sister dearest was certainly waiting for an answer.

Amane wasn't going to give her one.

So they continued to sit in silence. Amane's head was spinning as she recovered from the pain of curling up.

…

"Why? Why do you always come over? Why do you keep trying to push your values on me and get me to live how you would? My end goal is the same either way, so why bother-"

It was like staring in a mirror. Wide eye(s), mouth slightly agape, perfectly matched.

It wasn't like Amane to snap like that. It was like she was airing someone else's grievances. This…

"This is about Fuuta-kun, isn't it?"

Amane kept her head down. "All I wanted… was to inspire him to live a more virtuous life. I should have realized…" She found herself crashing onto Mahiru's shoulder.

"Oh…" Mahiru carefully wrapped her arms around Amane. "You couldn't have known. Too many things were in play. I talked to him too. Shidou-san kept watch around the clock. Fuuta-kun hasn't been in…" She tapped her fingers, trying and failing to find the words.

"And what do you mean about Kirisaki Shidou?"

"So much has happened to get to this point. If he's making you feel like the blame is all yours, I'll have a word with him."

Tempting. Amane straightened her back and her expression. "Please do."

Mahiru stood up and gave Amane a pat on the head. "I promise you'll be able to visit again in no time."

[kitkatt0430]

Haven't done this in a while, but HOPPY EASTER everyone, here have an Easter gift of villains being villainous in a villains win story.

The obvious solution to save Dante seemed to be to make sure he was sent somewhere far, far away. Which Savitar cheerfully agreed to. “I know a few realities we could drop him off on where he’d be relatively safe. Live out a normal human life, only have to worry about the normal human problems. Cars are dangerous and so is walking down the stairs if you trip. Hell, bad run in with a vacuum cleaner and next thing you know you’re going in for MRIs and knee surgery.” ���Do you ever shut up?” Reverb muttered in irritation. If he’d asked Zoom something like that? Vibrating hand through the chest, immediately. Savitar just laughed.

Savitar is a bit of a talkative and sarcastic little shit in this one, but once Reverb gets more comfortable around him the banter will be much more two-sided. (This is totally villain flirting, right?)

But it's not just villains being villainous around here. From the Eobard-is-the-shitty-ex fic for Barry/Cisco/Hartley...

“I let Eobard convince me you were a lying brat and by the time I realized he’d been playing me…” Cisco hesitated. “I’m sorry, Hartley. I should have listened to you.” “And maybe if I hadn’t been an easily flattered idiot, I would have realized what he was really up to and turned him in with proof before things got too far.” Hartley heaved a sigh. “Maybe I could have stopped him before he ever had the chance to hurt either of you.” “Him using you… using all of us… that’s not any of our faults,” Barry said. And, for the first time, he might even believe it.

The only reason Barry can pull out of his own guilt complex? He feels the need to help Cisco and Hartley pull out of theirs. Right now they're sitting outside the building where a long hearing over Eobard's actions just took place and old grievances are being aired and reviewed. So it's been a long, hard day for all three of them, having to give testimony on their relationships with Eobard at some point during the process. But the hearing was entirely off screen, because I didn't want to have to research the actual process of investigating these kinds of allegations. Just move on to these three bonding, shall we?

Tommy is having to deal with a lot of obnoxious Queen family nonsense in the Ep3 rewrite for my Arrow Redux series. Including Oliver teasing him a little over wearing some of his mom's things as a kid. Though, to be fair, there's definitely the impression afterwards that Oliver liked getting to see Tommy in those things...

“We were, what… twelve? Thirteen.” “Ollie, do not.” “And we found your mom’s old stuff in the attic…” Tommy sighed. “I looked good in the tiara and heels, shut up.” Dig chuckled softly. “You must have missed her a lot,” he offered, looking amused by their antics. “I did. I still do. I have most of her things squirreled away in storage, actually,” he said with an amused smile. “And I do still look good in the tiara and heels,” he added with a smirk, just to see how that would get taken.

I've still got about... a third of the episode left to go? And then I can run cleanup on the fic. I'm also using this scene to set up an event taking place between episodes 6 & 7 as I'm trying to use the airdates of episodes as guidelines for approximately when the events within them occur and Tommy is going to be participating in an annual charity auction for an LGBT+ cause. A date auction, of course. ;)

Instead of trying to fit that into an episode rewrite, I'll probably just include it as it's own separate fic between those two rewrites.

[drawingconclusions]

PRAYING FOR ISRAEL

There's so much to discuss since my last series of posts, but today I'm only going to focus on the devastating tragedy Israel suffered over this past weekend. If you haven't yet heard, Hamas attacked and infiltrated an area of Israel, killed hundreds of Israelis (some of which were live-streamed executions), and also kidnapped a significant number of citizens, including IDF soldiers, elderly civilians, women, and children.

Some, like myself, are wondering how the Palestinians were able to stage such a large operation without Israel's Defense forces having known about it in advance. And others are also quick to point out there's a high likelihood that a state-sponsor of terrorism such as Iran was involved in providing military assistance and in planning the infiltration. (How in the world did the Palestinians get the rockets used in this attack if Gaza is supposed to be under a blockade?) So many questions to be answered. And perhaps it's also well past time for the U.S. to re-examine its foreign policy preference of eagerly releasing billions of dollars to Iran, which has occurred both under former President Obama and President Biden's current administration*. Many experts contend that such money is in effect fungible, even if it would be supposedly "restricted to" humanitarian uses. Whether or not Iran aided in these terrorist attacks, it's no secret that in the past, Iran has developed drones, IEDs, etc., that have even killed American troops.

And that leads me to my next point. Let's call the detestable actions of Hamas exactly what they are: acts of terrorism. When Hamas & the Palestinians target, maim, and torture innocent & defenseless civilians, there can be no other moniker applied to them. They're not freedom fighters and the term "militants" (as some in the mainstream media like to call them) is grossly misleading. They're terrorists. And that makes me wonder. Do the Palestinians still celebrate and give each other gifts whenever Israelis are killed by a Palestinian suicide bomber? Does Hamas (which was elected by the Palestinian people) still offer monetary compensation to such suicide bombers? Even some members of Congress, specifically left-leaning members of "The Squad", have whitewashed these terrorist actions in the past, and even after this weekend's attack, some of them are calling for a cease-fire, which is in effect an unacceptably toned-down response against the terrorists. A few have even called for the U.S. to end military aid to our ally Israel!! Completely ludicrous. (And some people claim the right has a problem with anti-Semitism!...)

I don't know how long Israel's war against Hamas will last. I pray that all those innocent civilians that were kidnapped are returned safe and unharmed to their loved ones in Israel. I pray that Israel would ultimately have victory over those who seek their total destruction. And I pray that the Palestinians would see that terrorism never has been and never will be an effective way for airing grievances or for advancing a cause.

__________

* (Edited on 10/11/23) I don't usually go back & edit my posts here, even though I realize these rough drafts are less than ideally written. However, this time I did go back and make a spelling correction, as well as substitute a phrase or two.

I also wanted to address something that has repeatedly come up in the mainstream media in the past few days regarding the subjects covered in my second paragraph above. When I wrote that, I was fully aware that Iran had not yet withdrawn any of the $6 billion that the Biden administration had released to them last month in exchange for the American hostages. But somewhere amidst all the clutter floating around in my mind, I had recalled hearing about a previous similar arrangement in the past year. So in order to be completely accurate, here's that info: On March 24, 2023, Freebeacon reported that the Biden administration had waived sanctions against Iran to allow them to receive a utility payment from Iraq. (Although Iran claims that amounted to $500 million, I'm not sure if that exact quantity can be trusted.) And on June 10, 2023, Reuters reported that the Biden administration again waived economic sanctions for Iran in order for them to receive a $2.76 billion gas payment.

It's unbelievable how the mainstream media continues to cover for the Biden administration, and blatantly ignores inconvenient facts such as the ones above. And some of them are even denying Iran's involvement in training or supporting Hamas' recent acts of terrorism. So let's briefly break that down. Do the Palestinians have numerous mines of metal ore there in the Gaza strip? Do they have metal refineries or processes for smelting the same? If not, where are they getting the metal for their rockets? Does Hamas have a production factory there for rocket launch triggers or for paragliding equipment as we saw in these recent attacks? If not, then the logical conclusion is that someone (or some country) is providing them with armaments and with corresponding training.

I realize that, unfortunately, championing pro-Israel views or even posing a semblance of criticism against "The Squad" or Democrats or President Biden is becoming more and more unpopular in America. (Just one example of the growing thug culture among those in power was the familiar local black helicopter that rushed to find me when I went out after Monday's post. It intentionally flew right above me in the parking lot, again flying just a little too close to the tree line...) But there are certain things that cannot remain unspoken, even in the face of criticism or opposition.

[dont-we-all-need-some-space]

💔 Unwritten Rules 💔

When I was in high school, I had a few friends at this point. But this story doesn't involve a failure in the regards of social interaction, but rather in the class of social studies, Civics to be specific. I never had a teacher that I hated to the same degree other students would complain about during study halls or during lunch when they'd have loud conversations with their friends and I happened to overhear their grievances. But Civics was a different story.

It started at the beginning of the year. We as a class were going over the class policy. A set of rules and guidelines that the teacher in question had set and we had a little contract to sign saying we would agree to this agreement and follow these set rules. Now across the different classes each and every teacher had similar rules and some where they had their own set of rules... however the late policy was always the same. "The assignment is considered late if it is handed in after the day it is due."

However, despite my best efforts of making sure I was on top of all my classes homework, juggling homework between several classes and trying to just relax at home... things manage to slip through the cracks and one of those things happened to be an assignment from my civics class... I panicked in the class, hoping, praying that she wouldn't remember however she did... and when she went around the room to collect... but I didn't have it in that class period and I'd tell her I'd make sure to do it during my study hall, as it was the next class and I was told that was fine, and from my understanding, I wouldn't be late because it was the day it was due... but as you could have guessed by my title of this particular rant not all things are written out and plain for everyone to see.

I handed in my assignment when I was finished with the homework that I had failed to do the night before for whatever reason and she told me it was late. I was fucking pissed off. How could it be late? I handed it in the day it was due. I signed my name on that class contract and I had it in my fucking binder where it said "Any assignment is considered late if it is handed in after the day it is due, and will be marked down a letter grade."

After the day it was due.

This was the day it was due, but her reasoning that it was the next day since the class period was over. Like that was absolute bullshit, at the time I was thinking about how much of an abuse of power is was... even now I think about it because it just plagues my mind.

This is just some fuckery this teacher pulled... and you'd think it as some Mr. Miyagi way to just to teach me some lesson about how I need to be more attentive with all my subjects. Well... I never was late with any of her assignments again, but to this day, years after I've graduated college, I'm more pissed off about being wrongly considered late, when her own fucking rule, never actively stated this bullshit... it just came out of thin air, and she never went over this shit in class, cause I would have made a note of it, simply because I know I've got a piss poor relationship with time.

I remember going home to my parents and bitching to them about how unfair it was. My mom agreed that it was unfair, while dad just took the teacher's side to play devil's advocate, and that hurt worse than some random teacher deciding on a whim that my assignment was late despite it being turned in THE DAY IT WAS DUE!!

Despite this taking place years ago, it still bothered me to this day. I had to talk out my feelings again with my parents and it took full years before I actually heard my dad did agree that it was bullshit, and that he would have done something if I had explained it the way I did during this discussion... and it helped ease my mind, but apparently not enough since I still find myself needing to complain about this teacher's bullshit policy. I even talked to my grandma and aunt about their late policies since my grandma was a retired college professor and my aunt was an active professor for online classes, just to make sure that this was a one time fluke situation, and they both agreed that this particular teacher was being overly strict and nitpicky when she didn't even specify it in her class.

And no one else in class even asked about what was considered late since it was written down in plain English that it was considered late if it was turned in AFTER THE DAY IT WAS DUE, AND NOT AFTER THE CLASS PERIOD.

So basically to sum up this vent... I hate it when rules have unwritten and unspoken clauses attached to them, and because of this, I am even more hyper-focused on what rules say when people have rules of interaction, if I think I can't follow the rules, I will just not interact since it's as simple as that.

[singingcookie]

Hello, it's been over a month so I think I owe a mental wellness update mayhaps?

I'm trying to figure out where to start because it's been so long asdfghjkl

I guess I should start with actual routine and changes and to see how that's helped before I lead into the big things.

So I mentioned creating a daily routine last month because having plans and tasks helps me a lot in terms of easing anxieties and also spurring my motivation to do various things. I've been able to keep up on most of the tasks I put on that list though my pokemon go walks have been a little sparse. I mostly blame the fact that it gets dark so early now 😩 But everything else I've been able to hit more often than not, and it really has helped a lot for sure

I also said how I was going to try to use a planner to help get myself more organized. I mentioned how this sort of thing is really hard for me to keep up with (and tbh it is) BUT I've managed to do it!! In fact I've been able to coerce myself into certain tasks that I've pushed off just because they were written in my planner so it made me feel like I had to get them done. And if I don't do it that day? I grab a pen and mark it for one of the others. And I even have plans set in place in January thanks to that too. I said I was going to force myself into it through sheer force of will and it's such a relief it's working lol

Talking with friends still always helps. Even if it's not positive. Even if it's hard, it just helps me. I haven't said it to most of my friends but this whole thing...me going to therapy, me trying all this stuff and planning things to do with them...it's them that caused it. All of them are so amazing and important to me and it makes me want to be the best version of myself. Not because I think they're better than me or anything like that but because being around them, knowing them, makes me want to put my best foot forward so I know they're enjoying our time together as much as I do.

That's really sappy I know lol

My anxieties with regards to work and what my family thinks are....basically nonexistent right now? I genuinely can't remember the last time those worries consumed me. And honestly? Fantastic. I love that for me

I've also been a lot better about not shutting off when I'm frustrated and airing out grievances. I had a bad day two? Three weeks ago? And I started shutting down and when I realized I was doing it, I made a point to share those feelings with people that are important to me. And I came out of it feeling just so much better.

All of that said, my therapist has scheduled for me to "graduate" at our next session! It was supposed to be last week but she got sick and had to cancel our previous session. But "graduating" doesn't mean everything's solved. It just means she thinks I have the tools and ability to handle the hard times without us needing to meet and talk every week/every few weeks. I'll still have the ability to reach out if I need it too

But all of that to say that, honestly?

I'm feeling pretty alright. And I hope that I can spread those feelings to all the folks that are important to me

[gusu-emilu]

scattered (Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning)

Jiang Cheng pays a late night visit to Wen Ning's apothecary and convinces him to take a break from work.

Rated T, Established Relationship Fluff, feat. chengning being dorks and jc getting pinned to the floor

read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

* * *

Wen Ning has lost track of how long he has been working in the apothecary today, sifting through a list of the medicine stocks that could use a buffer and creating new batches of each remedy. It's peaceful work. Familiar, repetitive motions and calculations that calm his mind.

His techniques have been improving with each new medicine he makes, his hands steadier and his anxieties calmer as he imagines Jiejie's instructions in the back of his mind, correcting his mistakes before they happen. He once depended on her guidance to make the simplest remedy. Now he has memorized medicines she once invented herself. Working as a healer in Lotus Pier has given him plenty of practice to reach this point in his medical skills.

Although, today the recipes’ details have been slipping from his mind more than he would like. It’s not a problem, though. Some days will be better than others. Today happens to be a day during which his thoughts are a bit hazy.

His apothecary is small and modest and a bit secluded, leaving him more comfortable to spend long stretches of time working here. It occupies its own pocket of Lotus Pier, surrounded by herb gardens, and always quiet enough for Wen Ning to focus on his work.

Now that night has fallen, it is especially silent. The only sounds in his shop are gentle noises of brewing and tapping and sealing, his work chattering back and forth with the crickets and frogs in the garden outside.

He wonders how many of these medicines could have an effect on him. His body barely responds to anything he eats or drinks anymore, although he can sometimes taste or smell very strong flavors. As he packages another finished batch of medicine, he almost laughs to himself at the memory of when he ate an entire chili pepper in front of a group of young Jiang disciples in the market. The juniors had been so amazed that they bought a whole basket of chili peppers for him just to see how many he could eat, giggling and cheering him on. Wen Ning never thought he could entertain others just by eating, especially after he was dead, but he had welcomed the opportunity to make a few new friends among the junior disciples. One of them even stops by to visit the apothecary now and then.

Some of these medicines do taste very strong, and very bad, but Wen Ning would not waste a drop just to test if he can taste how disgusting they are. Others will need the remedies one day. What interests Wen Ning more is if the sleeping draughts can still make him sleep, or if the cough remedies can smooth his throat, and so on. Since he has no need for medicine anymore, he has never tried to use it. Alcohol does have a miniscule effect on him if he drinks more than he ever could have stomached while alive, as he learned at the somewhat prickly encouragement of Jiang Wanyin, so maybe...

Well, he is not going to eat his own medicine stocks. Perhaps he'll try if one of the bottles goes bad. See what happens. Wouldn't harm him, at least, and Wei-gongzi would probably be very intrigued by the results.

Reigning in his attention back to his task—good thing his mind wasn't wandering during an important step—Wen Ning finishes sealing the medicine package and crosses off another line from his list. He scans the rest of what he's written, wondering how many batches he can start before the sun rises.

His gaze settles on a potion to dispel the effects of a curse from the body. The current stores of it are well-stocked, but Jiang Wanyin did just get a curse wound on a night hunt a few weeks ago. It could happen again. For the next few days after that, Wen Ning had personally administered the medicine to Jiang Wanyin, rubbing it into the gash on his back...

Focusing. Wen Ning is focusing on apothecary work. He has always been prone to his thoughts strolling away on journeys of their own, but tonight seems especially bad. He reads over his list again, then another time, and another time, and realizes he can only remember half of what's written. His mind really is foggy tonight.

The next thing he brews should be simple, then, in case his lack of focus starts to cause some damage. The simplest medicine left on the list would be—

The front door opens.

Blue moonlight curves around a silhouette in the doorway that Wen Ning recognizes well. A tingle of anticipation and fondness runs through him.

It truly must be late if Jiang Wanyin has left his office and come to visit. Jiang Wanyin usually works into the night so he has more time during the day to supervise his disciples' training and take care of sect matters in person rather than sending a representative. Wen Ning admires him for his devotion to his clan, but it also means that Wen Ning has to interfere and step into Jiang Wanyin’s office late at night to convince him to sleep.

So what has brought Jiang Wanyin to the apothecary? With a pang of guilt, Wen Ning wonders if Jiang Wanyin has been having more trouble sleeping than usual lately. Did Wen Ning fail to notice? Should he have brought him medicine tonight to help?

Without a word, Jiang Wanyin closes the door and approaches the table where Wen Ning has been holding his list up to the lantern light, still undecided about which medicine would be the simplest to make. It doesn't seem that the decision will come easily now.

He looks up at Jiang Wanyin, studying how his hair ornament is simpler than usual, how his posture is relaxed yet his eyes have a chiding hardness in them, and tries to piece these observations together into the reason for Jiang Wanyin's visit.

Brow slightly furrowed, Jiang Wanyin glances around the room, then asks, “Are you in the middle of anything right now?"

"No. I just finished a batch."

That seems to appease some complaint Jiang Wanyin might have had, his jaw relaxing and eyes softening. "Good."

Before Wen Ning can ask anything, Jiang Wanyin circles around Wen Ning's desk, sits behind him, and wraps his arms around him, pulling him away from the table. He rests his chin on Wen Ning's shoulder, his hair brushing Wen Ning's ear.

Warmth trickles into Wen Ning. Like all sensations, it comes delayed, flowing in gradually like a growing echo of Jiang Wanyin's arms winding around him, the rise and fall of Jiang Wanyin’s breath against his back, and his cheek finding the exposed skin on Wen Ning's neck to rest on. It's still strange to experience touch this way, but Wen Ning has started to like it—a way to savor Jiang Wanyin's embrace as its effects enter him in small waves.

"Wanyin, wh—"

Three fingers cover Wen Ning's mouth before he can say more. They remain there for a few moments, then lift for one finger to trace along Wen Ning's lower lip, another along his chin.

"Do you have a grievance to air?" Jiang Wanyin asks, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I don't," Wen Ning replies as Jiang Wanyin strokes his lower lip again.

"Very well," Jiang Wanyin says. "I do. How long have you been working?"

Wen Ning leans back into him. "How long have you?"

That earns him another silencing press to his lips. "I'm asking the questions right now," Jiang Wanyin says. Wen Ning can guess why he doesn't want to answer.

Unable to speak and in no hurry to remove Jiang Wanyin's hand, Wen Ning simply hums and nods in compliance. He considers licking Jiang Wanyin's fingers, just to protest a bit, but the thought comes too late and the hand settles back around his midriff.

"I'm not sure how long," Wen Ning replies.

Jiang Wanyin lifts his chin from Wen Ning's shoulder and pokes the back of his neck. "Lack of specificity," he drones like he's calling out a crime before a court. "I don't tolerate disregard for detail in my sect. What is the cause of this?"

Wen Ning holds up the list of medicines to eye level for Jiang Wanyin to see. "All of my specificity went into these."

Jiang Wanyin takes the paper, then unravels himself from Wen Ning and steals it away. Looking over his shoulder, Wen Ning watches him carefully fold the paper until he reaches forward to gently turn Wen Ning's face away.

A few more sounds of folding paper, then Jiang Wanyin's arms slip back around him. Wen Ning finds himself disappointed that he is held more loosely this time, although the warmth isn't any lessened.

"You've seemed scattered lately," Jiang Wanyin says, suddenly serious. Perhaps a bit angry, too, but he often sounds like that.

"I have?"

"When you mix up the addresses of your letters to the juniors three times in one week, I think it's fair to say you seem scattered." Jiang Wanyin rubs Wen Ning's shoulder and down his arm. "You should rest more! Have you even come close to running out of the medicines on that list yet?"

"Don't worry about me." Wen Ning finds Jiang Wanyin's hand and halts its path up his arm. "You know that I don't need sleep. I even have time to start a few more batches before sunrise."

In one rapid motion, Jiang Wanyin tugs his hand out from under Wen Ning's and lightly smacks down on it, reversing their position and holding tight. "No new batches. Your mind needs to rest."

A wry smile tugs at the corners of Wen Ning's mouth. "What if I start a new batch anyway?"

"Then I crack your skull open." When Wen Ning just laughs, Jiang Wanyin pulls him in even tighter, digging his fingers into Wen Ning's sides. “You have no choice, anyway. I'm holding you captive."

Wen Ning raises his eyebrows and turns his face toward Jiang Wanyin. "Hold me captive? Can you?"

Both of them know that Wen Ning could easily break free, but Jiang Wanyin answers gruffly, "Your mind is so worn out that you have forgotten what I'm capable of."

"It sounds like Sandu Shengshou came here for a battle."

"No, but it sounds like the Ghost General is eager to fight."

"You can have the advantage," Wen Ning says. "I'll let you strike first."

He expects that to earn an offended crackle from Zidian, sending a tingle up his chest, but when he looks down at Jiang Wanyin's hands, he is surprised to find that he is not wearing the spiritual weapon.

"Where is Zidian?"

Jiang Wanyin points to the edge of the desk, somehow managing to make that small gesture smug. Wen Ning is not sure when Jiang Wanyin took off Zidian without him noticing, but the knowledge causes something to tug at his insides. That Jiang Wanyin trusts him so much to forfeit the security of his family's heirloom in his company.

Or perhaps the feeling has something to do with their past, the memory of being struck with Zidian. They rarely talk about those days anymore. Perhaps Zidian losing its place between them is a sign that those times have long ended.

A few moments of silence pass between them, until Wen Ning says, "I'm waiting."

"Suit yourself."

Jiang Wanyin slowly pulls at Wen Ning's collar, loosening the fold of his hanfu, then slips his hand underneath the layers to stroke circles along Wen Ning's bare chest. The heat seeps in faster this time, a trail of warmth following Jiang Wanyin's palm, and suddenly Wen Ning wants the feeling over his entire body.

It was, regrettably, a very effective first move. Wen Ning stifles the urge to turn around to face Jiang Wanyin, to satisfy the growing craving for hot skin under his fingertips. Instead, Wen Ning arches his back to lean into the touch as Jiang Wanyin runs his hand through longer patterns.

"Your counter?" Jiang Wanyin asks.

Wen Ning forces himself to think through the options that don't involve flipping around and pinning Jiang Wanyin to the floor, which he would very much like to do right now. Despite the stiffness of his joints, they have a larger range of motion than he did in life, but even then, he can't do much when Jiang Wanyin is behind him. He could jab him in the sides or blindly fiddle with his hair ornament to remove it, but something tells Wen Ning that these would just leave him unsatisfied and even hungrier for touch.

"I...I can't reach you very well like this," Wen Ning says.

"Truly a pity," Jiang Wanyin murmurs, not sounding at all like he means it, and begins kissing Wen Ning's neck.

Jiang Wanyin moves to tuck another hand under Wen Ning's robes—his right hand—but Wen Ning catches his wrist. He wants to study what the sect leader’s battle-worn hand looks like without Zidian coiled around it, what it looks like plain and unarmored. Although, the task is a bit difficult to focus on with Jiang Wanyin's mouth on his neck.

Wen Ning traces the faint indents left by the winding body of the snake, wondering if what he sees is a pattern left by its embossed scales or if that’s just his imagination. Jiang Wanyin never takes off Zidian, not even to sleep. It would not be surprising if the texture has been engraved into his skin, as the weapon has become like an extension of his body, responding to his emotions and expressing them.

How much must it mean for Jiang Wanyin to remove it in his presence?

After several light strokes at the exposed skin of his wrist, Jiang Wanyin's breath hitches, a suck of air on Wen Ning's neck, and his fingers twitch involuntarily.

Wen Ning pauses. "What's wrong?"

Jiang Wanyin is slow to answer. "Nothing."

Not quite believing him, Wen Ning caresses the soft skin on his wrist again. Jiang Wanyin curls his fingers.

"Are you sure nothing is wrong? Does your wrist hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt." Wen Ning feels Jiang Wanyin hunch over into him, feels his chin rub along Wen Ning's shoulder as he turns his face away. "It's just...sensitive, I guess. The constant presence of spiritual energy can do that."

"From Zidian?"

Jiang Wanyin answers with only an affirmative hum, quiet, as if he is embarrassed. Wen Ning resumes gently stroking the delicate skin.

“Do you like it?" he asks, knowing full well that Jiang Wanyin will not answer if he does.

As expected, no response comes except for wandering touches under Wen Ning's robes and kisses at his neck that seem a bit agitated and spiteful, making something jump inside Wen Ning. For what must be the tenth time, he suppresses the impulse to trap Jiang Wanyin with his back against the floor and kiss him breathless.

Instead, he practices patience, and brushes his fingernails across Jiang Wanyin's wrist in quick motions. Jiang Wanyin flips his hand, hiding the underside of his wrist. Sensitive indeed.

Wen Ning likes this about Jiang Wanyin. A man who takes such effort to present a strong, indomitable presence to others is bound to harbor hidden softness more delicate than most, weak spots that Wen Ning is permitted to discover. Although he has learned that Jiang Wanyin enjoys the harsher touches that are inevitable from a fierce corpse, and he has come to enjoy submitting Jiang Wanyin to them, there is something entrancing about finding small ways to make him wriggle. Proof that Wen Ning can still be gentle when he tries. That despite his nature, his attempts at gentleness are still pleasurable. That he can gather these little reactions, which he definitely does not replay in his mind more often than he should.

Eventually, Jiang Wanyin seems too tormented by the caresses on his wrist, repeatedly scrunching his fingers with more force each time until he hides the hand under Wen Ning's robes. Strokes Wen Ning's chest and stomach with both hands.

"Hey," Wen Ning protests. "You took away my one advantage."

"You did say you were giving me the advantage." As if to flaunt the unfairness of their position, Jiang Wanyin licks behind Wen Ning's ear, making him shudder.

"I didn't say you could keep it."

Jiang Wanyin gives a low, resonant hum. "Oh? Is that so?"

He reaches farther down Wen Ning's body, rolling thumbs over his hipbones, then centering over his lower abdominal muscles to inch down slowly.

Arousal feels different for Wen Ning now, dulled and somehow separate from himself. But it's there. Yes, the sensation is very much there, making his palms itch and sending a faint thrum into his ears.

This provocation would be a good reason for Wen Ning to finally let down his inhibitions. He's spent his entire life and un-life biting back his lip in patience. Right now he'd like to turn the tables and bite Jiang Wanyin's lip instead.

Maybe his apothecary shop is not the most appropriate place to look over his shoulder, narrow his eyes at Jiang Wanyin, and grab the man’s wrists. Nor is it proper to push him down and pin his wrists to the floor. Nor is it befitting to watch Jiang Wanyin's breath quicken and his cheeks flush as Wen Ning straddles him. But Wen Ning doesn't really regret it once it’s done.

Jiang Wanyin's gaze darts to his captured wrists, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He meets Wen Ning's eyes and glares at him. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I'm supposed to be resting my mind."

"Then you better not be thinking about any of this." A slight snarl curves Jiang Wanyin's smirk. "No scheming. No plotting."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Wen Ning says as he slides Jiang Wanyin's wrists over his head and restrains both with one hand, sneaking his other hand under Jiang Wanyin's robes.

“Liar," Jiang Wanyin hisses, practically breathing out the word, as Wen Ning paints paths along bare skin with his cold touch, feeling Jiang Wanyin try not to squirm.

"I suppose you don't tolerate those offenses in your sect, either," Wen Ning says as he uses his free hand to untie Jiang Wanyin's robes.

He stops and checks Jiang Wanyin's expression for approval, watching him suck in his lower lip and stare hungrily at where Wen Ning's hand has paused. Then he goes back to working at the ties, taking longer than usual without the help of his left hand.

"You're correct," Jiang Wanyin snaps, but his eyes hold a glint of pleasure. "A few more violations, and I kick you out of Lotus Pier."

"Uh-huh," Wen Ning murmurs. "Tell me more about that later."

Jiang Wanyin pushes his wrists up against Wen Ning's grip, but Wen Ning only smiles and presses down harder as he finishes opening the robes. Amber light from the lantern mingles with blue moonlight from the window, reaching around Wen Ning's shadow over Jiang Wanyin's body, illuminating his exposed skin with soft highlights that show the curves of his muscles. Wen Ning lowers for a short kiss at the center of Jiang Wanyin's chest, then a much longer kiss on his mouth, feeling the warmth of Jiang Wanyin's tongue.

"How about you kick me out to the bed?" Wen Ning says between glides over Jiang Wanyin's lips.

Already anticipating the answer, Wen Ning shifts his posture to begin releasing his weight from Jiang Wanyin's body, unwittingly giving him the opportunity to buck his knees against Wen Ning's thighs and nearly knock him off balance.

"There. I kicked you," Jiang Wanyin says. Judging by the smug arch of his eyebrows and lips, he is so obviously self-satisfied with his ridiculous response that Wen Ning almost bursts into laughter.

"Alright, I'll go there now." Wen Ning rises to his feet and straightens his robes.

Jiang Wanyin blinks a few times, then practically jumps up, scowling as he reties his robes and reaches down to the desk for Zidian to coil around his wrist "No. You'll follow me," he orders, as if going to the bed was his idea. He marches away without another word.

Wen Ning smiles. Comforting warmth still swirls around inside him, both calming him and buzzing in his chest with anticipation.

"I'll follow you," he agrees.

He cuts in front of Jiang Wanyin's path to get out the door before him.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!

[ailuronymy]

back when i first wrote wc fanfic i wrote cishet abled characters, and now after a few years of now writing i want to write again. but i'm so afraid of accidentally being transphobic when writing a trans cat coming to terms with their true gender or evoking a cliche i didn't know about when writing a lesbian couple... i want to write diverse characters but i also don't, what do i do?

My dear Ruddles, you are asking me one of the biggest and most unanswerable writing questions of all: how do I not be afraid? I want to know the answer as much as anyone, so I can’t help you there, but I can tell you some of my observations and thoughts on ways of working through these kinds of paralysing fears. 

The first thing to understand is that there is no version of events where you are safe from criticism. There is no safe option, where if you only write that kind of character or that kind of story, you will be protected from having to experience criticism. I think you, like many people, have made the mistake of thinking that writing only able-bodied cishet characters will insulate you from criticism, whereas writing characters who aren’t able-bodied cishets will open you up to criticism. That thinking can make the idea of branching outside what you’re used to very daunting, because you feel more vulnerable. 

However, that thinking is wrong. You are always vulnerable. I’m not saying that you scare you more, or make you anxious. This thought is a liberating one, if you approach it from the right angle! No matter what you write, someone is going to dislike it, or be totally neutral about it, or disinterested in it, or might even hate it. That’s just what it is to be a writer of any kind–or any kind of creator. If you want to be a writer, you’re accepting that you will be criticised at some point: it could be for good reasons, it could be for silly ones, it could be because someone decides they just really don’t like what you like to write. It doesn’t matter! It happens to everyone. You cannot please everyone and you don’t have to. You only need to do your best work. You need to love your work enough that someone else disliking it doesn’t make you love it less. 

I had the opportunity some months back to go to a writers’ festival, and listen to a heap of extremely skilled, established creators (novelists, poets, performance artists, journalists, all kinds) show their work, talk about their process, and discuss certain themes and topics on panels. One panel was about the anxiety and uncertainty that’s part of writing. There was a lot said during this panel that really helped me personally and changed how I thought, but the most relevant bit for you was said by Omar Musa: “Accept that you will face criticism. That’s part of the job. That’s the game you’re in.” 

When you decide what kind of character to write–i.e., between able-bodied cishet characters or a more diverse cast–you aren’t choosing between “no criticism” (able-bodied cishet) and “criticism” (diverse). You are simply shaping what kind of criticism you might receive. If you write only able-bodied cishet characters, the criticism you will get will reflect that: you will be criticised for your lack of diversity, your work might be called boring or derivative, you might be accused of -isms based on how a story built only with privileged characters takes shape. 

If you write diverse characters, your criticism will reflect that: you will be criticised for including diversity (”why does everything have to be X these days???” or “I don’t understand why Y was there, it wasn’t plot-relevant”) or accused of pandering, you will be criticised for how you write these characters by people who might mean well but have only ever read stereotypes (”next time you write about X character, I think you should do it differently, I just don’t think it’s realistic that [some nonsense opinion]”), you will be criticised for how you write these characters by people who are similar to these characters but in all likelihood different people will probably give you totally different feedback and have different responses to your work (person one: “I didn’t like how you did X, it was uncomfortable for me”; person two: “I was really into how you did X and it resonated with me, it was fun to have a character I could relate to like that”), and so on. 

When I think about this, it makes the choice easier: I would rather take criticism for attempting diversity than criticism for not even attempting it. What also makes all writing easier is remembering that, although it can feel very personal to be criticised for something you made, at the end of the day, it’s just a chunk of words. It’s not sacred. It’s not you. It’s a thing that you made, and if you made mistakes, next time around you can learn from it and do better. We can all change as soon as we choose to, and therefore a mistake who wrote isn’t who you always have to be. You don’t have to be perfect to be doing your best. 

If you do your best before putting your work out into the world, you don’t have to worry. If you’ve done your research and had a beta/sensitivity reader (if you can, it’s not always possible and not always necessary for every piece of work) and genuinely tried to do good and respond appropriately to feedback along the way, you don’t need to fret. You might still get criticism and if you do, that’s good. Constructive criticism is an opportunity to grow; you can see it as a slight against you as a person or you can see it as a chance to improve as a writer and expand your worldview/knowledge. I can really recommend the latter. 

I can also strongly recommend working to separate your feelings of self-worth from your writing as much as you can, because then you can disengage from criticism on a personal level and engage with it on a critical one. Not all criticism is useful or good or relevant! Some feedback you will get and laugh at. I don’t respond to/post most of the negative feedback I’ve received running this blog, but wowsers, do some people use some choice words about me! If you only receive criticism as personal, you will be tempted to believe all of it or value it more than it needs to be valued, whereas if you look at criticism with a critical eye, you will be able to judge what’s helpful, what’s nonsense, what’s worth listening to and learning from, what’s someone airing their personal grievances and has simply selected you as a target, and what’s totally tone-deaf and inappropriate. 

Also, it’s okay to know your limits. You’re a growing writer. You’ve got a lot of experience yet to have. The weight of curing the whole world’s problems isn’t on your shoulders alone. You don’t have to do everything. You don’t have to try to represent everyone in every story you write. Some stories are going to have a central focus: it’s what you’re passionate about. It’s the story you need to tell, because you can’t get it out of your head. If you don’t have it yet, you can’t force it. I’ll find you, and in the meantime, have fun with writing!  Practice new things. Build skills. Read a lot. Read diversely! Experience living in the world, because that’s probably the best way to grow as a person and a writer. That way, when you do find things that feel right and good and important to write about, you’ll be able to do them justice. I really feel there is something uniquely powerful about sincerity and love in a story–it shines through, and the writing is always better for it. 

So, basically, to try to make a long story short: 

1. you will be criticised. You can either accept that, or not write. You can go, “Okay, but criticism isn’t the end.” You can go, “I want to be a better writer, and that means doing new things even if it’s scary and I might make mistakes.” For me, the love of writing outweighs the fear of criticism. The idea that things might go right (if I try my best) is more powerful than the worry that they might go wrong. 

2. writing is a hobby. It’s an art that you can practice and improve. It might feel important and central to who you are, but it’s a skill, like riding a bicycle or juggling. If someone tells you how to ride a bike better, you can either go, “That’s sensible, next time I ride a bike I’ll sit on the seat instead of running alongside the damn thing,” or you can go, “I’m a terrible fool for not knowing how to ride a bike, I will never ride a bike again because I am worthless and bad.” When you handle sensitive material about the real world and real people’s lives, it’s important to do everything you can beforehand to learn about how to ride a bike–but if you do mess up and run over someone’s toes or be a hazard in some way, don’t cling to your pride: apologise, learn, move on, do better. 

3. never write anything out of a feeling of obligation or fear. You will do it badly, because it’s very hard to write anything you’re not personally interested and invested in. You might be feeling guilty for only writing a certain type of character, but unless you can shift that guilt to genuine excitement and desire to write different types of character, don’t bother! If you write out of guilt, it will be miserable for everyone, including yourself. Also, recognise that you can write certain types of character without having to engage with stickier issues that might come with the character type–i.e., you give the example of trans characters, but if you’re not trans, it’s not really your business writing in-depth about “the trans experience,” especially if you’re not already very familiar with it and involved in the community and confident in working in that area. You almost surely can’t do it justice and will stumble into problems and will likely receive some harsh, and probably deserved, criticism. The solution is to write about well-developed trans characters whose “trans journey” (or whatever you want to call it) isn’t a central focus of their story or characterisation, because they’re already living as/accepted as their gender, etc.! 

I hope this is somewhat helpful to you, Ruddles, and I hope in the future you’ll find your feet writing more diversely! Try not to put too much pressure on yourself to begin with. Pick one new thing and explore that. There’s no hurry. You can get there in your own time. Good luck!

[harryfeatgaga]

I'm dying laughing at the CEO of the Recording Academy trying to cover his ass cause he knew he made a mistake all while questioning if Harry's reached a "level of excellence to merit a nomination." But gave the Chainsmokers and Meghan fucking Trainor a Grammy. Where was the excellence from them? The Chainsmokers song was played at Frat parties and dirty basement, is that's excellence then I don't want Harry to reach that point.

i literally cannot believe

Anonymous said: My dad just texted me from work to see if I was okay because he got a call from the neighbours saying there’s been the same song on loop on full blast (that song is the Grammy robbed Sign of the Times by the Grammy deserving Harry Edward Styles)

DJNFBGUHFBJNHFIJNBFHJKF MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said: I bet that one anon you got a few days ago is cackling and trying to talk shit about how they knew Harry isn't talented enough to get a Grammy or something stupid like that

they can ch*ke

Anonymous said: Niall did great things with his album and it got great hype by both the public and music producers so if his album made the deadline I would easily say his album deserved a nomination. But the other boys haven’t even released albums yet and their singles were just good for radio play.

i haven't listened to his album still lol but noah fence from what i saw it did not get nearly as great reviews and hype as harrys lol and idk why the others even bothered fhbgfjkvl

Anonymous said: Boycott the Grammys 2k18!

tru!!!

Anonymous said: I’m just going to air out my grievances if that’s ok- first of all,Harry’s management or record company stuffed up bad cos y’all know damn well the members don’t vote artists with a progressive sound into the rock category so you fucked up there. second - Bruno mars is clearly this ceremony’s Taylor swift cos idk how tf his flimsy song about material things got nominated over a relevant refreshing ballad like SOTT . Harry deserved better , but also, harry needs to fire some incompetent people ✌️

well harry made music he wanted lol not stuff thats gonna get played on the radio which i enjoy lol but yea bruno is the tswift this year....or j*y z

Anonymous said: The thing that sucks is he most likely was planning on going to the Grammys cause he's performing for Fleetwood Mac the day before, but now he's going to be in New York and not going.....

PLEASE :(

Anonymous said: I was really disappointed but more for him than me like my first thought was “I hope he’s alright and not too sad about it” And I really hope he understands that it doesn’t make him any less good because an award is just an award and it never defines who you are as an artist and as a person.

i know I'm so sad for him i hope he's okay :(

Anonymous said: Harry is the best artist in the world right now he doesn’t need awards!!

tru! but it would've been nice to even get a nom/recognition

Anonymous said: You can tell the Grammy' will just nominated any old shite. I mean Ed Sheeran has the biggest album of the year yet he isn't nominated. And i didn't even know JayZ had an album out and he's nominated. Like no offense but American music industry is just shit.

ed is nominated and some other categories which I'm sure he will win and literally same i had no idea jay z had music out lmao

Anonymous said: Scrap what i said, Zayn didn't get nominated. It was for songwriting and he didn't write that song.

good

Anonymous said: He got all that hype, he did that private show for them, they went his his first show in LA. They for sure used him for hype and media attention. Robbing bastards.

seriously

Anonymous said: A LOUIS FAN CLAIMING LOUIS DESERVED A NOM YALL I WAS SAD BUT NOT NOW. NOW A BITCH CANT STOP LAUGHING. HE AIN'T EVER GETTING SHIT

LMAOOOOO BYEEEEE AS IF

Anonymous said: I just hope he knows Grammys ain’t shit

honestly

Anonymous said: I know it’s not the end of the world, but I hope he’s not super disappointed and sad, because everyone hyped him up so much smh. Also, I bet this will change how he does promo and radio shit for his next album, they should get him a radio deal just for the fact that clearly that’s all these loser Grammy voters care about.

well if thats what he has to do to get a grammy i don't think that would be worth it and i don't think he would think that either

Anonymous said: Jay Z can fucking choke like his album? The shit he did to beyonce? I’m not fucking rewarding a man for being like that anymore, he can take his ancient ass somewhere else.

nasty

Anonymous said: Good, now I don’t have to watch the Grammys this year, I’m glad tbh since I’m not really a fan of any of the other nominees and I’m sick to death of hearing the same five songs all fucking year lol, that issues song? Fucking hate it, have since day one, can’t believe it got nominated for shit lol. However Jeff needs to get Harry a radio deal since clearly that’s all that matters to voters, considering Harry did all the courting of the voters he could and still got fucked.

i literally haven't even heard most of whats nominated its such a joke

Anonymous said: Most nominees in the important categories are poc so I’m not completely mad and besides Despacito or however you write it (which is a horrible song) they nominated well deserved ones. I still think SOTT should’ve got at least one nomination but I think that maybe because harry is fresh out of the oven they’re not gonna straight up give him a nomination even if he deserves it.

yea i mean its awesome theres actually diversity this year but SOTT literally deserved a ROTY nom

Anonymous said: Nah Harry will get Brit nominations because he’s respected in his own country, the Brits also nominated 1D they don’t hold being in a boy band against him which clearly the Grammy voters do, which is a real shame tbh. But the Grammys are continuing to dig their own grave and become more and more unimportant every year.

i cant wait till the grammys just make such a food of themselves no one goes

Anonymous said: Pls the whole Grammys is a conspiracy theory lol I told you

a mess

Anonymous said: The Grammys lost all credibility after giving Adele Album of the Year last year and not Beyonce. They stick to the basics and just anyone who doesn't "break the rules of music" Harry's first solo song was a 6 minute long rock ballad, which doesn't go with what was expected to be put out. They don't care for originality or you know talent, that's why Ed Sheeran's wack ass has won 🤷🏼‍♀️

SERIOUSLY

Anonymous said: He'll probably get nominated for Song of the year and Video of the year at the Brits. Pretty sure both are fan voted. Maybe best male as well. Also maybe best album but then again probably not because it depends. Also maybe global success. I can't think who else would get that right now. Maybe Ed Sheeran again.

i hope so

Anonymous said: Grammys? I don’t know her. Anyway I hope Harry knows how proud everyone is of him and I hope he’s proud of himself I love my baby 🤧💕

ME!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said: i feel so much for harry i mean he did everything he could he put out a phenomenal single and a stellar album and worked with amazing producers and writers and did the grammy performance thing and all that stuff with cbs and like i know im biased but he deserves SOME recognition for all of that like he really did put out amazing music this year that was so much more worthy than despacito like come on he was robbed i just hope he feels okay and valid bc he IS :(

i know :( like i hope he knows he still has done such incredible things this year and his album is so good and he doesn't need a stupid grammy anyway

Anonymous said: Taylor is nominated for two (one for the country song she wrote). Like no offense the the American music industry but you need to get your head out of Taylor arse and stop being snobs. SOTT deserved a nomination.

when will they stop kissing her ass

Anonymous said: Harry broke records held by legends, had a BBC special, performed at the record academy, and sold out an arena tour in minutes. So Julia Michaels and Ed Sheehan can take their boring ass music along with their nominations and shove it up their asses.

TBH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said: I’m sorry but I have to point out the irony. The lyrics of the song are literally stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. and I know there’s a deeper meaning, but this year fucking sucks

i know :(

Anonymous said: All that hype for nothing. Boy was robbed. Sign of the times deserves a Grammy.

ROBBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said: Everyone knows no one, NO ONE deserved a nomination more then Harry. White old men disappointing me again. Like every fucking person said Harry deserved one. ISSUES AS SONG OF THE YEAR? YALL I NEED THEIR CRACK DEALER CAUSE CLEARLY ITS SOME GOOD SHIT TO GET YOU TO THINK FUCKING ISSUES IS SONG OF THE YEAR. Nah fuck them.

FUCK THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said: I’m so?? Noah fence but the songs that got nominated? What the fuck???? Harry deserved to be up there whether it was roty or aoty idc he just deserves to be nominated.

seriously

Anonymous said: LISTEN in 10 years time people will look back and say why the fuck wasn’t SOTT a Grammy winner... he is timeless and he’ll win in the end!! The Grammys are fucked

THEY WILL REGRET IT

Anonymous said: The Grammys just proved again how much they don’t matter lol, Harry’s song and album was on every single list as one of the best of the entire year, and the you know who wasn’t? Most of those other songs lmao so whatever man I know the Grammys matters to harry, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore they continue to be irrelevant and continue to nominate mediocrity.

its such a joke lmao

Anonymous said: Yeah honestly the Grammys really do only care about awarding the same people over and over again, and it’s like, no offense but who cares lol. I’m sure Jay Zs album is good but he’s nearly 50 and been nominated a ton like idc anymore lol. And I like Bruno mars but seriously? The songs he was nominated for really aren’t that great lmao.

seriously tho like j*y z has enough awards

[zeldahijinks]

If this is ok to ask, may I please request a scenario in which the Reader dies and Sidon, their s/o, has to deal with the news, like the Revali one-shot you did but in reverse? I'm sorry, I just really, *really* love angst.

[A/N: It is more than okay to ask! And no worries, my friend, I love angst as well. Hell, I legit started tearing up writing this! But I fault that to the another lovely anon introducing me to Tom Waits. *cough* This song got me all choked up. Also I’m sorry these are so lengthy! It’s a habit too hard to break!] Sidon/ReaderWord count:1010

Zora’s Domain glimmered brightly while the water treaded slowly, and the air flowing brisk but warm. Citizens carried on with their day, not a one of them having a single care in the world. To the outsiders, Zora’s Domain was a magical place, but Prince Sidon, as he stared from a high balcony over his land, just could not match his precious subjects’ contentment. He felt uneasy, just completely restless. There was protruding pressure in his chest that no amount of completing his duties, swimming, or going hunting could override. He tried deep breathing treatments, had swamped himself with paperwork that was supposed to be for his father, and even offered to help in the kitchen. The last one didn’t go over well while some Elders overheard and shooed him away claiming a Prince of such a renowned status shouldn’t bother with such labors. 

It didn’t stop him from trying to play with the children, reading books, and working on his weapons. One thing after another, another chore down, and another empty accomplishment, now Prince Sidon sat in a chair on his private balcony. He had finally given up attempting to avoid this strange ache, this horrible notion something was wrong… something missing. Throwing an arm over his face and sinking into the chair further, he just could not feel at rest. Honestly, how could he? His mind drifted back to kissing you a farewell a few weeks back, and how you promised him you’d returned as soon as Link didn’t require your help anymore. How could he say no? His brave, wonderful, golden light of his life was willing to help the greater good!

He should be proud! He was! Honored even! But…yet, he missed you so much.

He missed waking up to caress your form next to his, peppering your shoulders in kisses until you begged him laughing and breathless, and oh…. Those quiet nights when it was just the two of you enjoying each others’ silence in this very chair. He missed you so much. He held his face in his hands, sharp teeth gritting because all he wanted to see you again! He felt himself unravel, but he quickly composed himself as he spent his whole life training to do. Even if he gained a calm facade, his body hung low on the chair, arms ungracefully hanging off the side. There were few times Sidon would mope, and whenever his beloved was gone he found himself easing into this position.

He chuckled under his breath, thinking back to when you would come home from an extended trip and you had found him moping in his huge chair, blowing the whistle attached to his ascot. When he had noticed you, you didn’t let it down for months after how he flopped toward you like a puppy. He hummed happily at the memory, because he had took you into his arms and listened to that beautiful laughter fill his heart with so much love. If life didn’t have its way, he would go to the ends of the world to be able to keep moments like that alive and well for eternity.

But when Prince Sidon opened his eyes and looked around to an empty balcony, it was in those rare moments Sidon was not a fan of reality.

“MY LIEGE!” A Zora guard came rushing in Sidon’s room and toward the balcony. The Zora soldier, out of breath, pointed over the railing, sputtering nonsense as they tried to relay their message. However, Sidon not willing to wait for them, stood up immediately and made his way over.

His eyes fell upon the figure resembling Link and his trusted horse, Epona, and he desperately searched for you. A blistering cold wafted over his body as he followed the trail behind his friend and saw a long slate covered in your handmade embroidered cloak. It was in that moment Sidon wished to remain in his dreamland of kisses and caresses. He wanted to move, but it felt like the connections between his brain and hand were lost while the newcomers approached. Zoras lined the entrance ways, their gasps and sobs resounded while Prince Sidon gritted his teeth and leapt from his perch.  He slid his way down on a sloped roof, landing not to fair from his sister’s statue. He rushed over while his eyes darted back and forth between the covered slate and Link.

Link came up and handed a jeweled chest protector Sidon made for you. Half of it was broken, semiprecious jewels busted or missing from their placement. Sidon’s throat clenched gazing on the plate’s half stained in scarlet.

Stained in blood.

Shakily, he peered over to Link whose eyes filled with immense sorrow, red and worn from possibly crying. Link attempted to speak, but seeing Sidon in a state of shock because of his mistakes, no words could undo what was done. And so, Link sunk to his knee, head hanging low, a sign of utmost respect and grievance from Hyrule’s knight.  The jeweled chest plate fell from Sidon’s hands as he drifted to the slate.

Gently as he could, he pulled back your favorite cloak, and inch by inch, revealed your face. He choked back a sob because even if your face was devoid of life, lips colorless, and face riddled with scratches, you looked peaceful and still so fetching. He fell to his knees feeling unsure what to do with his hands as they wavered over your body as if beckoning you to get up. Other Zoras and Link all looked away, or moved into their homes to let the Prince and his love be. 

 Finally with shaking hands, he pulled you into his embrace cradling you like a newborn, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. A part of him wishing… wanting so badly that if he muttered things that had made you fawn over him when you were alive, somehow you’d magically revive and place a hand on his face so he’d be whole once more.

But you did not.