#You're Not Entitled To My Time No Matter How Easy They Are To Make

[e1e4n0r5]

Their Little Plaything: 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 4249

Synopsis: Some hard discussions are had

Warnings: Bullying/mocking, power imbalance Reader finally levels that playing field baby!!!, FFF threesome, ANGST!!!!, Powder comin' in hot, mentions of disordered eating (unable to eat to due emotional distress, forgetting to eat), fingering, oral sex (all receiving, all giving), dirty talk, praise kink, FEELS!!!

You were back at their house the next night, your heart hardened for whatever may come. Vi had let you in, walking with you in silence to the kitchen. Cait sat perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island, a laptop open in front of her, her chin resting on her hand as she stared intensely at the screen.

Vi stood against the counter they loved to fuck you on – you now knew that was due to hidden camera in the wall only a few feet away – her arms folded, clearly on edge.

You didn’t move further into the room, your hands twisting nervously.

“I want to see everything,” you said, voice cold and steady. “Every photo. Every video. All of it. And then you're going to delete them.”

Vi’s jaw tensed, and Cait’s eyes narrowed a touch. They weren’t surprised, you'd said as such the night before.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cait said after a pause, her tone infuriatingly calm.

Your stomach twisted. “What do you mean, not a good idea? You recorded me. Without my consent. You don’t get to decide what’s a good idea or not.” You eyed her laptop. “Last night’s footage? Having fun editing your little pictures, making your GIFs of you two fucking me?” you snapped.

Cait shut the laptop defensively, not meeting your eye.

Vi ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated. “We told you, we’ve never showed them to anyone. It wasn’t about that.”

“Then what was it about?” you snapped.

“It was a private thing,” Cait said. “Just for us.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, well, that makes it okay, then. Just a private porn collection of your little conquests, right? Some trophies for you to look back on when you get bored?”

“No!” Vi barked. “Fuck. No. It wasn’t like that.”

Cait hesitated. “It was, at first,” she confessed. “It always was. For us to look back on the girls we'd fucked, on those memories. The things we all did together. But, again, it was only ever for us.”

“I knew it,” you whispered. “And you think I’m so weak, that I’ll just roll over and let you do whatever you want with my body.”

“That’s not true,” Cait said, her voice lower now. She caught herself in the lie, a reflex. “Perhaps in the beginning.”

Your breath caught.

Vi exhaled sharply, straightening up like the words were forcing themselves up her throat. “You were pathetic. You were the quiet, weird, little loner nerd, and easy to fuck with. And we liked fucking with you.”

You stared at her, each word hitting like a slap. She flinched at your expression but didn’t stop.

“But then Powder stood up for you. Suddenly you weren’t just some nerd we could poke for fun. You started opening up; we’d see you with Powder around campus, laughing, hanging out. Just being normal. You had this spark in you, and we liked seeing it grow.”

Cait stood from the stool, her voice gentle but firm. “We saw how kind you were. How smart, beautiful. You were never supposed to matter. Then after Halloween, you did. We realised that you weren’t a loner; you were alone. And we didn’t quite know what to do with that, so we fell into old patterns.”

You swallowed hard, blinking fast as tears threatened to fall but you couldn’t let them. You refused. “You’re not going to delete the videos of me, are you?”

They exchanged a look, something soft, scared, unspoken.

“They’re ours,” Cait said. “They’re pieces of something real this time. Of something we don’t want to lose.”

“They're not real if I didn't want them taken! They're stolen moments, pieces of me you felt entitled to.”

“We like you,” Vi added quietly.

You froze.

What?

“We want those memories because you’re in them. And we want more of them. If you let us.”

“More photos?”

“More memories,” Cait corrected.

You stared at her, stunned. “So, this started because I was easy for you to hurt, and what, now it’s love?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn said simply. “Messy, selfish love. But real.”

You said nothing. You’d only said that word to mock them, to show them your hurt. But…Was it real? “You two love me?”

They looked at each other, then nodded together.

Vi confessed softly, “Yeah, we do, sweetheart.”

You swallowed harshly, your throat burning with unshed tears. You could never have expected them to say that. “And the videos?”

Vi’s eyes met yours, guarded. “They stay. Even if you go-” Cait had to turn her head away. “Even if you go, they stay with us.”

"How do I know you won't just leave when you're bored of me?"

They shook their heads. "Not gonna happen, sweetheart."

Silence stretched. Your hands were shaking, your breath uneven. Everything inside you screamed that you should walk out. That this was wrong, dangerous, too much.

But another part whispered something else, something quieter. That even in all the mess, something here was painfully, confusingly honest.

You swallowed. “I need to think…”

Both nodded immediately.

“We’ll wait,” Cait said.

You turned to the door, heart racing.

And just before you opened it, you paused. But you said nothing.

Then you were gone.

Powder knew something was wrong. Like a sixth sense went off in her head, she was over at your dorm room the next morning. You'd been curled up in bed with a cup of tea, too distressed for food, just staring out the window as you tried to sort through your feelings.

Frantic knocking on your door disturbed you. It could only be Powder.

You stood up, letting her in with a small, sad smile.

“What’s happened?” she asked, immediately pulling you into a bear hug.

You wrapped your free arm around her, holding her close. “Hey, Pow.”

“What’s going on?” she demanded, holding you at arm’s length. You looked awful.

You pulled away, sitting on your bed, your back against the wall. “We had a fight.”

Powder stood still in the centre of your room, considering you carefully, her face marred by a frown and squint. “It's the photos, isn't it?”

You paused. “For fuck’s sake,” you hung your head back against your wall. “Seriously, Pow, are you psychic?”

She shook her head. “I know you, I know Vi, and – to a lesser degree – I know Cait. I just knew those photos would come into it. S’a risky game to play.”

You stayed silent, staring into your tea.

“So? You gonna tell me?”

You flexed your hands around your mug. “They were taking photos and videos of us, without telling me.”

Her jaw clenched, almost biting through her tongue. She was going to beat the two of them senseless. Trying to keep her cool for you, she asked calmly, her hands twitching at her sides, “Have they shown them to anyone, posted them somewhere?”

“No. No, they said it was just for them. Like a...I don't know, a kink. Maybe they liked the control it gave them? But then they said the more they started to like me, the more it became about having memories of us together.”

“Without asking you.”

“Yeah.”

“Did they ever ask you?”

“Yeah, lots of times.”

“And were you okay with it when they asked? Really, actually okay?”

You sipped your tea, buying yourself a few seconds to think. “I was scared at first, shy. But they made it exciting.”

“How long were they doing it in secret before they started asking?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. They won’t show me.”

“Jeez.” Powder pondered for a few seconds. “So, is this it with them? Or could you forgive them? After I beat the ever-living shit out of both of them.”

You inhaled deeply, looking out the window. Powder let you sit in silence as you debated with yourself. Eventually you looked back. “I want to be able to forgive them.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I'd say that's a good place to start.” She looked around your room, eyeing the growing pile of laundry, and the bin full of noodle cups. All of them barely touched. “When did you last eat something?”

You paused to think. You took too long. “Um…”

“Nope, that’s it! I’m getting us nuggets!” she declared.

“And fries?” you asked timidly, only just realising how much your stomach hurt.

“Of course fries, you numpty. And ice cream! And then we’ll talk about how stupid girls are.”

You had called them both over, your message simple: “We need to talk.”

Your room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp and the lavender candle you’d lit in a futile attempt to soothe yourself. You sat cross-legged on your bed, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Vi was sat in your desk chair, leg bouncing nervously, while Cait leant back against your desk, her face troubled.

You didn’t speak right away. Let the silence stretch long enough for it to fray the edges of their usual confidence.

Finally, you looked up.

“I want honesty,” you stated. “Full honesty. It doesn't matter what the truth is, how much you think it might hurt me, you have to be honest. If you're not honest, that's it, I'm done.”

Both their heads shot up, alarm clear on their faces.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, then continued. “When I was in high school, I liked this girl. Heather Scott. I'd had a crush on her since Freshman spring. In Sophomore year, I told her I liked her. And she said she liked me back. Smiled at me, held my hand. We agreed to meet the next afternoon behind the bleachers. And when I got there...”

“She didn’t show?” Cait asked gently.

“Oh, no, she did. Along with about half the school, all of them laughing at me…Some were recording.”

Vi clenched her wrapped hands. “Fuck.”

“Videos got posted online. The school managed to get them taken down and thankfully some people got expelled – the district classed it, sort of, like a hate attack – but the damage was done.”

They both looked tortured, Vi clenching her hands, Cait unable to stand still.

“I heard about the others.”

Neither of them breathed.

“I thought maybe…What we had was different,” you continued, your voice low. “But it’s not, is it? This is what you do. You find someone – someone you can push and control – and you make them feel wanted. Special. Until you’re done.”

“That’s not fair,” Cait said quietly.

“Isn’t it? You filmed me. You kept things from me. You played games with my head, and the worst part is, I let you. Because I thought I was the only one, that I was different.”

“You are different,” Vi said. “You think we go around falling in love with every girl we fuck?”

Your breath caught, still oddly uncomfortable with them using that word. “That’s not the point. And, honestly, I’m not even sure you two know what love looks like towards other people. You love each other, sure. But all I know is the stories about how you used girls up and moved on. I’ve seen the messages and the photos. One girl left school!”

Cait looked away. “We never hurt anyone.”

“Maybe not physically,” your voice cracked. “I can’t speak for them, but you made me feel like I was crazy that night, Cait. Like wanting honesty or respect was a crazy thing to ask for.”

Vi leant forward, eyes blazing, but beneath the heat was something else. Regret. Guilt. “We didn’t mean to do that. Not with you.”

“But you did it anyway,” you said, voice wavering.

Silence settled again.

“What about the videos?”

Cait shifted her feet. “What about them?”

“How important are they to you moving forward? If we…Continued…Would you keep filming me without my knowledge? Or what if I said I never wanted to take any photos or videos ever again, even if you ask? Would that be a deal-breaker?”

Vi’s voice had gotten hoarse, “We’re not letting you go.”

That shocked you.

“We want to be good for you. We’d love to keep making memories together-”

“Taking sex photos,” you corrected sharply.

“But,” Cait continued for Vi, “If you truly don’t want that, then we won’t. They’re not the most important thing to us now.”

“That would be you,” Vi added.

“It would be a big change for you,” you said sceptically. “How often do you think you’d reach for your phones when we’re together? Would you feel like something’s missing if there weren’t a camera on us?”

You looked between them. These two women who had made you feel seen, wanted, beautiful…But also paranoid, used, unsure.

Your heart warred with your head.

“Prove it,” you said finally. “Stop hiding things from me. Stop acting like you own me just because you want me.”

Both Cait and Vi nodded, solemn. For once, no clever smiles, no lingering touches to smooth things over.

Just a promise.

The door closed behind them.

Vi stood in the entryway, fists clenched, jaw tight. Cait set her keys down with mechanical precision. The silence between them buzzed like static, hot with tension, thick with everything they didn’t say in front of you.

"She thinks we're monsters," Vi finally said.

Cait perched on the couch, hands clasped. “Maybe we are.”

Vi turned, eyes narrowing. “Don’t say that.”

“You heard her,” Cait’s voice flat. “She thinks we used her. That we’re still using her.”

Vi flopped onto the couch, rubbing a hand down her face. “It wasn’t like the others. You know it wasn’t.”

“I know,” Cait replied, quieter. “But how is she supposed to believe that when we haven’t done anything different? For fuck’s sake, I used the same chat name for all of them!”

Vi was silent for a beat. “I didn’t think it would go this far. I didn’t think we’d care.”

“You said it yourself,” Cait murmured. “She wasn’t supposed to matter.”

“But she does.”

The words sat between them like a challenge, too heavy to ignore.

Cait stood, walking upstairs to the desk in their bedroom. Sitting down, she opened a hidden drawer, pulling out a keychain of multiple USB sticks. The ones they kept everything on. She held it in her palm, staring down at it.

Vi hovered in the doorway. “You thinking about deleting it all?”

“I’m wondering why we haven’t already.”

“Because it’s her. Because I don’t want to forget the way she looks when she lets us in. When she stops being afraid.” Vi stepped in, bracing her hands on the desk next to Cait. “So? You want to delete it?”

Cait was quiet for a long moment. Then she shook her head, setting the drives back in the drawer and closing it gently. “Not yet.”

Vi’s voice was low. “You think that makes us terrible?”

“I think it makes us selfish. But I also think it means we’re not ready to let her go.”

Vi gave a dry laugh. “We’re not good at this. At being good.”

“We’ll try. For her.”

Vi exhaled through her nose, taking Cait’s hand and crossing the room to sink onto the bed. “She’s not going to trust us again easily.”

“Then we earn it.”

Vi looked at her. “No more games?”

“No more games.”

Vi nodded, slowly, and rested her head against Cait’s shoulder. The two of them sat in silence for a long time, the weight of their decisions still heavy, but now tempered with something else.

Hope.

Then the doorbell rang.

Both women’s head shot up.

Could it be…?

Vi shot off the bed, Cait following after her. Vi skidded across the marble floor, frantically pulling the door open.

She was shoved back.

“You absolute,” shove, “pieces,” shove, “of shit!” Powder screamed at Vi, slapping her sister’s chest.

“Powder! Powder, calm down!” Vi urged, trying to catch her sister’s hands but Powder evaded her.

“You assholes! How could you?!”

Cait approached slowly. “Powder, please, let us-”

“Shut the fuck up! You recorded my friend, my best friend! And now she’s a wreck!” Powder eventually stopped hitting at Vi, who successfully pushed her back a few steps. “She trusted you,” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s hurting, she can’t eat! You made her feel like she was only…Some toy to capture. Like she was just a game, not your girlfriend. Not someone you’re supposed to care about.”

Vi looked away, her jaw clenching.

Cait stepped forward slowly, her voice calm but serious. “We love her, Powder.”

“Then act like it,” Powder shot back. “Because right now? You don’t get to say that unless you mean it. Unless you show her.”

Vi’s voice was rough when she finally spoke. “We didn’t mean to hurt her. That was never the plan. It got…Complicated. We got used to doing things a certain way.”

“With all those other girls you think I don’t know about?”

Cait and Vi looked alarmed.

“Yeah, I heard about them too. My first week here, when people figured out I was the infamous Fighter Vi’s baby sister, let’s just say the rumours made their way back to me.”

“She’s not like the other girls,” Vi said quietly.

Cait nodded. “And you’re right, Powder. We messed up. We’ve been talking about it, about changing things.”

“We’ve already promised her honesty,” Vi added. “We’re not hiding anything anymore.”

Powder crossed her arms. “She deserves more than promises. She deserves effort. Care. She’s already got enough scars from the past, she doesn’t need more from the only two people she’s ever felt safe with.”

Cait stepped closer. “We will do better. You have our word.”

Vi looked up and met Powder’s eyes. “We’re not going to lose her. We’re going to prove we can be better. For her. For real.”

There was a long silence before Powder nodded once.

“Good,” she said softly. “Because if you hurt her again, I won’t be coming here as your sister.”

She gave them one last look, then walked toward the door.

Vi followed. “Powder-”

Powder muttered, glancing back, “Don’t ever make me hate you this much again, Violet.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

You’d been tying yourself in knots for days, turning everything over in your mind a thousand times. After hours of just staring at the wall in your room as you’d pretended to study, a cold untouched microwave meal (that Powder had bought for you; one more thing to feel bad about) near your books, you’d forced yourself out into the fresh air, hoping it would clear your mind a little. You hated how well it worked.

The nights had cooled, a soft breeze tugging at the hem of your jacket as you sat on a bench outside your dorm building. After watching campus life move around you for a while, you pulled your phone out.

I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Half an hour later, the three of you all stood in the centre of your room, none of you knowing what to do. You twisted your hands together, suddenly unsure what to say now that they were here.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said softly, “about all of this. You’ve both said you want to be better. And I do think you mean it. But… I don’t think I’ll ever forget how it started. How you made me feel. What you did.”

They glanced at each other, preparing themselves.

“For what it’s worth, sweetheart…” Vi started.

Cait finished, “We’re so sorry.”

Jaw trembling, you nodded.

“Can we just skip all that?” you begged in a quiet voice, your eyes filling with tears. “Can you just be kissing me now?”

Cait rushed to you, her hands pulling your face to hers, your lips clashing together passionately. Happy, emotionally-exhausted tears leaked from your eyes as you clung to her, as if she'd vanish if you didn't hold on tight enough.

“We’re sorry, baby,” Cait poured against your lips. “We’re so sorry, we’re so fucking sorry.”

You heard your door open. “Alright, everyone, put your headphones on, put some music on, or get out: this make up sex is gonna get loud!” Vi shouted down the hallway.

“And now we’re sorry for that too,” Cait rolled her eyes.

“Vi!” you cried out in embarrassment, your face blushing bright red.

She locked your door with a shrug. “At least I warned them,” she smirked, heading your way.

Cait eased you from her arms and nudged you into Vi's. The pink-haired woman pulled you close, demanding in her kisses as her lips fought against yours. You cupped her breasts, earning a low curse.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? We can take it slow,” Cait promised.

“Cait...” you panted, turning your head as you stayed in Vi’s arms.

“Yes, darling?” she asked, gently cupping your cheek.

“Fuck me. Now!” you challenged.

Vi growled, picking you up and sitting you down on your bed. She frantically undid your jeans, pulling them down your legs, but getting them stuck on your shoes. “Fuck! Okay, from now on,” she said firmly, pulling your shoes off and throwing them over her shoulder, “skirts and dresses only! Need quick access, baby.”

You nodded dumbly as your pussy leaked, moving your arms so Cait could remove your top and bra. Naked before them as they stood over you fully clothed, you shivered. Cait sat down on the bed, pulling you into her lap.

 Vi knelt between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. “Keep them open,” she instructed. In a devotional whisper, she kissed over your hips, “We missed you. We missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered back as Cait held you close, kissing your neck.

Vi moved her kisses down to your pussy, flicking her tongue out and just touching your clit. You whimpered, begging for more. Vi met your eyes as she moved over your clit, sucking gently at first, then gradually increasing speed and pressure. You keened loudly, uncaring who heard you.

Cait chuckled in your ear, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples. You pushed your chest into her hands, reaching a hand back and holding her hair.

“Do you like Vi’s mouth on your pussy, darling?”

You nodded, your breathing coming in choppy, your hips starting to roll. Vi held you to her face, squeezing the flesh of your ass as she moaned into your slit.

“I think Vi likes it too,” Cait smiled, tugging your nipples just a little harder than she normally would. You whined. “You always taste so sweet. We’ll never get enough of you.”

Vi built you up with her tongue, laving your clit and lips, sliding inside you and fucking you with it. You shook in Cait’s arms as your orgasm rolled through you, your head tipping back against her shoulder as she cupped your jaw.

“Good girl,” she praised in your ear, “that’s the first one,” making you whimper.

Vi eased your thighs back together, wiping her chin. You reached out, tugging the bottom of her shirt up, whining in your need to see her. She chuckled at your neediness, pulling her shirt over her head and unzipping her sports bra. You desperately pulled her in close, wrapping your arms around her tightly as you kissed between her breasts.

She tipped your chin up. “Who do you want first, baby?”

You groaned, you couldn’t possibly decide.

“Okay, on your knees, baby,” she urged, pulling you forward gently out of Cait’s lap.

Eagerly kneeling before her, Vi helped you open her jeans, pushing them down her thighs. Tugging her boxer briefs down, you didn’t wait any longer before lunging forward for her pussy. She groaned, holding the back of your head.

Cait stood up, removing her blouse and tailored skirt. Vi pulled her into her side, kissing her deeply, moaning into her mouth as you sucked her clit. Vi reached down, sliding her fingers into Cait’s panties, rubbing her fingers over Cait’s dripping pussy. Cait panted into Vi’s mouth, shifting her hips so Vi could slide her fingers inside, her hand on the back of your head, holding you to Vi’s pussy.

The two of them came above you, Vi flooding your mouth and chin with her juices as Cait did the same to her hand.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of lips, tongues, and fingers. You all realised that you had taken all your toys to their house, leaving you with only what you had – yourselves. It didn’t matter though; between the three of you, you had more than enough imagination to pass the night away.

You and Vi scissored on your bed, Cait alternating between you, kissing and sucking your breasts, occasionally dripping spit onto your clits. Cait laid on her back, Vi eating her out, whilst you rode her face. You fingered Vi from behind whilst Cait sucked her clit. You and Vi 69’d whilst Cait fucked herself on your desk. And so much more, you could barely remember.

Laying in your small bed together, curled in tighter than you thought possible, they swore they'd never let you go again.

And they never did.

Notes: WE MADE IT!!! Thank you so much for following this story, I had so much fun writing it. The epilogue is coming 💦 as well as bonus chapters 💦💦

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @spicedcherrylolli, @colettespace, @flowersareup

[dj-of-the-coven]

To the leftist and anarchist Jews of Tumblr -- shalom!

My name is Rivkah (aka DJ) and I work at an anarchist bookstore collective. Since the beginning of the Israel-Hamas war in '23, I've watched as the welcoming center for humanist resources that I worked so hard to maintain became more and more infested with antisemitism--because of and in spite of people's honest attempts to be good allies to the populations of the Gaza strip and West Bank. There's been antisemitism mixed in with everyone's humanitarian rhetoric since the beginning. I knew this, as every Jew did, and it wasn't easy remaining silent about it. I was doing so in order to let the voices of the most affected people speak first, expecting that once the shock wore off, we'd have more of a national discussion about how to care for Palestinians and Israelis as well as Jews in the diaspora, shifting the conversation towards a 2-state solution, more conscious efforts to de-radicalize antisemitic and islamophobic extremists, and peace between the multiple indigenous populations of the Levant. Well. Needless to say, this was rather optimistic thinking.

A few months ago, someone in the collective crossed a line. A book appeared on our sale table entitled "The Invention of the Jewish People" by Shlomo Sand. I doubt that I need to elaborate what this is to the population of Jumblr.

After this happened, I confronted the collective about this spike in antisemitic sentiment--the deliberate spreading of Khazar theory was simply too much for me to bear--and to my horror it was also revealed that we had no literature on contemporary Jewish issues aside from books on Palestine. I snapped. In the wake of this incident, I began a project of intensive research on the history of antisemitism and the ways it infiltrates leftist rhetoric and breaks up social justice movements. What I found left me surer than ever that something needs to be done about antisemitism in leftism and anarchy before it's too late; before more innocent people are killed by ignorance and misguided justice.

I'm taking a great risk by making this request on my main blog, but I'm doing this anyway, because I want to make it clear to people that wanting peace is not a "centrist" opinion. I am an anarchist. I am a punk. And I am a Jew who believes that a 2-state solution where everyone is safe is possible. We're not going to get a perfect socialist utopia out of the region any time soon, but two democracies are better than none.

Why should any of this matter to you? Well, I have something to ask of any parties that are interested.

I'm planning to give a presentation to the collective about antisemitism and how to recognize it within themselves and their activism, and to this end I've already done a massive amount of research, but nothing is complete without qualitative data. If you have anything to say to goyische leftists about what to change rhetorically in order to reach a more egalitarian future, I want to hear about it. Feel free to add your comments in the notes or in my asks. I will be accepting stories of antisemitism that have happened to you as well, if you're willing to share.

Thank you all for reading and I hope to hear from you soon!

Antisemites will be blocked on sight. Islamophobes will be blocked on sight.

[cal-coathanger]

could I ask for a George Weasley x reader where she's a Malfoy and they are dating in secret and her parents arrange a marriage for her after she finishes Hogwarts so she runs off with George?

Here we are, I hope you enjoy it 🫶

I have NOT proofread this so I'm sorry for mistakes, I tried my best:)

Please send in any hp requests omg I'm loving them🫶

"You're malfoy's sister, huh?" An unfamiliar voice piped up from behind you, you turn to be met with two tall identical boys. They had the trademark weasley ginger hair, various small scars across their bodies from pranks gone wrong, which you would eventually use to tell them apart before you knew them better, you could immediately tell that these were the trouble making weasley twins. Your brother, Draco, had complained about them for ages even before attending the school. You had just transferred in from ilvermorny, where your parents had sent you for the first 3 years so Draco could be the star at hogwarts. You and Draco were close in age, Draco only being 10 months older than you. Eventually your father had gotten tired of your complaining of ilvermorny, and allowed you to go to hogwarts.

"What do you need?" you ask them in a flat tone. All you had heard about them was that they were foolish and annoying, causing trouble everywhere they went.

"Calm down sweetheart" one says as the other adds on "we were just checking out the new malfoy," "hopefully she's not a wretched as her brother," "I sure hope not," "we don't need another entitled malfoy"

They go back and forth, talking as if you weren't even there. Maybe Draco was right, they are quite annoying, and rude.

You scoff and walk away, still hearing their banter from behind you.

Your second interaction with george was when you were unfortunately paired with him in potions class. You groaned as you heard both your names called out. You thought for sure you were going to fail the project, but surprisingly he worked well in class. And when you arrived at the library later that night to finish up the project, he was actually really sweet, and easy to talk to. Time flew by as the two of you chatted, laughing and talking about anything you could think of. He showed you his scars and explained each one, you listened intently. Your father would have never let you have even half as much fun as George did. That was when you started to grow fond of him, and when he realized that not all malfoys are jerks. And now at least you could tell him apart from fred, George has a small scar on his neck from fireworks gone wrong that fred didn't have. You talked until you realized that it was much past curfew, and you'd be in so much trouble with your father if you got caught and they contacted home. George helped you calm down after you freaked out and showed you a secret passageway that led you almost straight to your house tower, and you got in without getting caught. The project wasn't even finished, but you were still happy with how the night went.

Eventually, sneaking around with him became a regular thing, staying out late every night just to spend time with the sweet ginger boy. And when the yule ball was coming up, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. You happily accepted, and instead of going to the ball you danced with him in his dorm. You wish that you could've been seen with him at the ball, but Draco would've snitched immediately and you would be sent straight back to ilvermorny.

You kept your relationship secret for years, only Fred knew, and Ron who had accidentally walked in on the two of you snogging once, but he kept his word and never told anyone.

And then hogwarts ended, you graduated 2 years after George did. (Although he still snuck in just to see you, and you spent weekends at his shop)

2 weeks after graduation you got the worst news of your life. You were being married off into another rich pureblood family. Your parents cared about nothing more than keeping the family line wealthy and pure, no matter how much you cried and begged. They were marrying you off into the flint family. To Marcus flint. Who was an undeniably ugly man, inside and out.

You cried for weeks, sending endless letters to your devastated boyfriend, who tried his best to comfort you despite his own sorrows.

And now was the night before the wedding, you laid in your bed, sulking. Your eyes were already completely cried out, you had absolutely nothing left to cry even if you had the energy to. You didn't want to do anything, you couldn't eat or sleep or shower and take care of yourself. You truly looked a mess and your parents screamed at you until their voices went hoarse. But you didn't care. You knew the house elves would clean you up tomorrow anyways, but it's not like you wouldn't show up to the wedding looking as if you had lived in the woods for the past month if you could. The only thing that brought you any joy was rereading letters from George, luckily you had kept them well hidden so no one had found them.

Suddenly you hear tapping on the window, and you look up to see am owl there, holding a letter. You immediately jump up to open the window and recognize the weasley's owl, letting it in and petting it before taking the letter. It stood on your desk as you read.

"Pack your things, take everything you will need. I love you sweetheart, I'll see you soon. -yours truly"

You had little to no idea what this meant, but you sent off the owl with a few treats and immediately locked your door to get to packing. Luckily your parents and your brother were off having dinner with another rich snobby family, but you couldn't risk it. You packed your hygiene products, perfumes, jewelry, important items, and clothes, leaving behind the wedding dress in the closet and hiding the packed trunks underneath your bed. You cleaned up your room the best you could, leaving it as close to how it looked before as you could.

When your parents finally arrived home late, they didn't even bother to check on you, they went straight to bed along with your brother.

You waited for hours until you couldn't help drifting off to sleep, awoken later with sharp knocks on your window. You jumped up in shock, glancing at the window to find.. George? He was in the passenger seat of the weasley family's flying blue car. You room was 3 stories off the ground, and it made you slightly nervous.

You open the window and speak in a hushed whisper, "what are you doing here?"

"Coming to save you, get your things" he whispers back, giving a small smile.

You hesitate before grabbing 2 packed trunks and hauling them over to the window. Fred, who was driving the car moved it around and popped the trunk, allowing you to lug your belongings in before turning the car again to the door of the backseat. Ron, who was in the back, opened the door for you. You hesitate, looking at the long distance between your window and the ground. If you didn't make this jump you'd be seriously injured, or dead. Ron leaned out and held out his hands to help you, and you took them, holding on tightly as you stepped up onto the window sill. Taking a deep breath, you jump, barely making it, and he pulls you into the car and shutting the door swiftly. And just like that fred hit the gas, speeding off before any of your family could notice the blue car outside of their mansion, or that you were gone.

Eventually they arrive at the weasley's home. You were nervous and you'd never actually met any of George's other family. But as George led you into the house while fred and Ron grabbed your trunks, molly was waiting at the door with open arms, pulling you into a hug.

"OH my sweet George has told me all about you!! You're just as beautiful as he described. You poor soul, I'm just so glad my boys could get you!" She exclaims.

The hug felt weird, but not in a bad way. You've never really been hugged before, but it felt,, comforting. After a moment you hug back.

"Thank you Mrs weasley, George is just amazing. You clearly raised him so well"

She pulls away with a huge smile on her face.

"Come! Come inside! Let me show you to your room" she urges you, leading you into the house.

It was beautiful, it wasn't as big as the mansion you had previously lived in, but you liked that. It was warm and smelled of cinnamon and caramel.

Molly leads you up some stairs, bringing you to a decently sized bedroom with the 3 boys following close behind. Fred and Ron drop off your trunks and rush off to the kitchen as they had missed dinner. George leaned against the doorframe, watching as his mother showed his girlfriend around the room she had worked so hard to set up. Molly eventually left, allowing them to get settled in as she prepared more food.

You sit down on the bed, it was amazingly soft, unlike anything you had ever felt. George sat next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"So? What do you think?" He asks gently, "I know it's a lot and this is all going really fast but I just couldn't let you get married to that jerk, not when you belong with me"

You smile at him, this was all so new to you, and yes it was overwhelming, but you loved it.

"George, this is the most amazing thing you could have ever done for me" you whisper, your emotions already taking control of you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, happy tears.

He leans in to kiss you gently, cupping his hands to your face and gently rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You better get used to it, I'm never letting you be away from me again." He whispers softly. Molly calls the two of you down for food, and you realize how much you were starving.

George smiles at you, "are you ready to start your new life here?

You smile and nod in response, "I've been ready"

**bonus**

After around a year, George had found a house for the two of you, and had recently proposed. You don't know what your parents were up to now, or if they even knew where you had gone, all you knew is that they had publicly disowned you, and you were fine with that. You had george's family who were a thousand times better anyways. You were at home doing dishes when you heard a knock at the door. When you go to open it, there is no one there, just a letter. It was addressed to you, written in green ink.

You open it and read it slowly.

"I hope this finds you well. I've missed you since you left, but I understand why. I hope you know that I never hated you, and I support you relationship with the weasley. As much as I hated them during school, George is good for you, and I'm glad you have him. I won't tell mum or dad about where you are, or who you're with. I've known for a while now, I just couldn't bring myself to write until now. If you're up for it, maybe we could meet and catch up. And if that goes well, hopefully we can finally have a good sibling bond. Love you Lil sis."

- draco

You smile and immediately start a letter back, excited to tell your soon to be husband of the letter you recieved when he returns from work.

This is the happy ending you'd always dreamed of, and you are more than grateful to finally be living in it.

[arach-tinilith]

Six Song Soundtrack Game - Naadja

Thank you for the tag @mogruith i loved your picks for Coranzan!!

No pressure tags: @majorasnightmare @the-weeping-dawn @foxboyclit @forget-me-maybe @andrigyn <3

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following… 

Event that defines your character's past: Mother We Share

Come in misery where you can seem as old as your omens

And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling

The way is long but you can make it easy on me

And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling

Ive always said Naadja's canon story album is The Bones of What you Believe by Chvrches. I've referenced it in my fics as well as titled art I've commissioned with it in mind because of the impact it has on Naadja's character. This song in particular has always been about Sol'axle's death, Arazai's betrayal, and Naadja absconding from Menzobarranzan to later come back to enact her vengeance. It's why I decided so much of her arc focused on the struggle between her and Arazai as well, because they're both being manipulated by their mother and Lolth as well.

And when it all fucks up

You put your head in my hands

It's a souvenir

For when you go

This line in particular is about Naadja returning and beheading Arazai. And she finds an odd fondness in his death that sort of splinters into regret because she couldn't save him from the path their mother carved for him. In an odd way, he saved her by ruining her future and ensured she would be the matron of House Duskryn. All she could do for him was kill him swiftly.

How your character sees themselves:  Lies

Icon of symmetry, swallowing sides

Fall down in front of me, follow my eyes

But I've got to see you moving, waste no time

Teach me, make me holy till

I can sell you lies

You can't get enough

Make a true believer of

Anyone, anyone, anyone

Naadja obviously thinks very highly of herself but it is contingent on how others feed into it. Which is why she leans so heavily into this belief that she is innately special with a higher purpose than anyone else, only further enabled by Lolth getting possessive over her because she is a source of divine power.

But Naadja /also/ believes much of her power comes from the skills she's learned from manipulation. In that her holiness is nothing without worshippers and that, despite deserving unwavering faith and love, she needs to ensure she will recieve it no matter what. So she will play whatever role is necessary of her so long as she gets what she needs

How others view them: Primadonna

Primadonna girl, yeah

All I ever wanted was the world

I can't help that I need it all

The primadonna life, the rise and fall

You say that I'm kinda difficult

But it's always someone else's fault

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe

You can count on me to misbehave

Primadonna is Naadja's theme song, I played it as her intro to the dnd campaign and it's still wildly accurate. There's layers upon layers to Naadja's character and the song does a good job of saying "im sad, but thats your problem" which I've always felt represented Naadja very well. She's vapid and entitled and very tragic but she really doesn't know why that's such a big deal?

And I think it's what people pick up when they interact with her as well!

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic): Bird of Prey

I had all the world to hide

In deep fields and tall grasses

Your sight, it will not tire

Until you have me

And I love you, oh but no

Oh, you will not let me go

Now the Sun, it sets, I'm on the run

I can't get you away from me

Naadja's relationship with Zafyna is absolutely her closest. Its hard saying that as she is poly, but she has the longest history with Zafyna, and their affection past school was feuled by their obsession and possessiveness. Naadja having a sort of ownership she felt over Zafyna for bringing her into her fold. And Zafyna being possessive over Naadja as she feels their love is "true".

But it evolves into a very dysfunctional game of cat and mouse as Zafyna is hunting Naadja for leaving her and Naadja keeping a hope that she's still being hunted. Not because she wants to die (not until she surrenders), but that it means she's still worth the chase to Zafyna

 I never said I didn't want you knocking on my door

All this run and chase, it's almost like I planned it

Never have I felt arms this tight on me before

Naadja is terrified that she has nothing of her old life to go back to. But Zafyna is the one constant she has. She never said she didn't want the chase. It's almost like she keeps herself just outside of arms reach. The arms that strangle her feel awfully like an embrace.

A major fight scene: Strong Hand

Will I be the strong hand keeping you safe

or will I break you in half

and you will never be under my thumb

but you were not your own man

See the way we all run

When we know it off by heart

Played down, waiting all out

When we win or lose it this time

As I've said before, Naadja exacts her revenge on her family after returning to the Duskryn compound. I've always thought of this song as her return, dismantling the house and reconciling with her past. But she's rebuilding it with her own image in mind, without Lolth's grip on her throat. It also is a parallel to her relationships as Naadja sees herself as an inherent risk and liability because of her power, but choosing to keep her lovers close despite that.

Give me the bones of what you believe

Maybe they'll save you from me

Naadja dismantles her faith and rexamines it, preparing herself for the dangers of living in Menzobarranzan without Lolth. Again, she sees herself as a danger to those she loves, but if they gear their worship towards her, she aims to protect them

End credits song: Dinner At Eight

No matter how strong

I'm gonna take you down

With one little stone

I'm gonna break you down

And see what you're worth

What you're really worth to me

Naadja killing her mother is by no means the end of her story, but it is her epilogue. Prae'anelle has always been an almost mystical figure that's dominated her life from the shadows. If you asked her, Naadja couldn't describe her voice. So Naadja eventually breaks her down, and i think her death would be tremendously unsatisfactory for someone as imposing as a matron of a noble house. And Naadja realizes that this monumental person is just a mortal who was only meaningful to Naadja in her death so that she could live on.

[pyramid-of-starrs]

14!!!!!!

Come sit in my office

Kinktober request: 14 Crush Jongho, thighs

Pairing: Manager Jongho x Employee afab gn! reader

Summary: On the day of Halloween when you should be out with your friends getting shit faced you're stuck at work in your slutty costume. After being sent to your managers office you find out a very interesting fact about Jongho that makes you want to explore it further. But you make an embarrassing mistake that leads you into something else.

Word Count: 2.1K

Kink: Thighs

Warning: Thigh riding, thigh fucking

Minors dni

Halloween was usually super fun, dressing up going to parties, or fucking a random guy in a dumb little costume, but not this year. You were finally selected to be one of the few workers at your retail job in the mall to work the night shift for Halloween. Usually, you wouldn't be upset about shifts, but since the mall owner is super into Halloween every year, he would have the Mall and stores stay open till 11 pm instead of 8 pm to hand out candy to kids and help parents get last-minute costume supplies. In your 2 years working at the store you were able to dodge Halloween hell shift, the name given by all the other employees, but 3rd times the charm huh? Though it sounds easy and simple it's usually bratty and entitled kids with their rude or super-stressed parents. After begging everyone to take the shift and ending up with no luck you just bit the bullet and stayed, at least you still got to dress up, but of course this year you chose to be a slutty murdered school girl, oh well.

After hours of dealing with kids and getting judgy side eyes from parents as you folded clothes with your coworker, you heard your manager's voice through the walkie earpiece used to communicate with everyone in the store.

"Y/N, can you come see me in my office."

You sighed heavily, your coworker giggling at you and then making an "oooh" sound to tease you for possibly getting in trouble. You put the clothes in your hand down and walked to the back then stopped to knock at your manager's office.

"Come in." He shouted from the other side, you opened the door to see your lavender hair manager not wearing his usual business casual clothes but opting for a sporty look today as he was filling out papers in front of his laptop.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Choi?"

"Ah, Y/N come in and take a seat for me." He said as he stuck his hand out to wave you to the chair propped in front of his desk.

You took a seat as your bare ass hit the cloth chair due to how short your skirt was, it made you cringe a bit because you knew the discoloration from the chair was from it not being cleaned, at least your thigh highs protected you from your thighs meeting the same fate.

"So what's up boss?" you said as you looked at him. He finally put his pen down to look over you before he responded.

"Well Y/N, I've gotten a few... let's say comments... about your choice of costume for today." He said trying to be sensitive about the matter.

"Oh yeah well this was all I had since I had plans for Halloween this year before I got scheduled." You said looking over yourself.

"Right and what are you supposed to be?" He questioned.

"A murdered school girl but like, spicy 'cause I'm an adult."  you said nonchalantly.

"Okay... and you deemed that appropriate to wear to work."

"No but I deemed it good enough to wear for tonight's shift." you said quickly. "What's wrong with it? Too much thighs and boobs showing?  Do you not like my thighs Mr. Choi?" you said teasing him, your manager was usually very conservative and you and your coworkers loved teasing him because of that.

He cleared his throat before replying. "I-I can assure you that I have no issues with your thighs Y/N I meant the par-"

"Oooh no issues with them huh? Then why call me back here? I get  you would rather die than show skin but some of us aren't afraid."

Before he could reply he stood up to reveal one of the most gorgeous things you've ever seen, his thick horse-like thighs in a pair of gym shorts.

"As you can see from my clever gym teacher costume, I too am showing thigh, I just wanted to let you know the parents had an issue... I actually don't mind your thighs." He said the last part quietly.

You marveled at his legs for a moment before he spoke again.

"J-just get back to work and stay behind the counter okay? Remember me and you are on closing duty tonight so don't leave with everyone else." He said as he sat back down and continued to work. You nodded stood up and returned to the floor.

After hours, 11 pm finally hit and you couldn't be more excited but nervous. Though you could try to finally meet back up with your friends for late-night moves all you could think about was being trapped with your hot manager and his newly discovered meaty thighs. You never knew you had a thing for muscle legs or Jongho the prude, again a name given by co-workers, until now. Everyone started to leave and you did your rounds in the store while Jongho locked up, then you two met back up to collect the money from the registers and take it to the office to count it. You sat at the chair in front of his desk again so you could count the money and he locked the office door and collected the credit card receipts to count those. Being in the locked office with him for some reason made your heart pound and even worse made your clit kind of throb as you stared at his lavender locks and his tanned skin as he stayed focused. You started to shift a bit in the chair then crossed one leg over the other to cause some friction to calm you down, you kept restarting your money count and Jongho finally noticed.

"Everything okay Y/N?" He looked up at you.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, everything is just peachy." You smiled nervously, scared that you would be caught using your thighs to rub your tingling heat.

He examined your flushed and nervous face before speaking again. "Look I know what this is about Y/N, and I can assure you, there is nothing to be embarrassed about okay? I don't want things to be awkward here."

"Y-you do know? S-so you didn't mind?" You couldn't believe he noticed and... didn't mind it?

"Of course not Y/N, I told you I didn't have a problem with it, I actually like it." He flashed a warm smile at you.

You felt your core start to pound hearing him say he liked it, he liked watching you fall apart like this? Jongho the prude rumors debunked.

"Well, can I ask you something then?" You said shyly.

"Of course, anything." He continued to smile seeing you not as tense.

"Well since you liked it... c-can I maybe... ride your thigh?" You said still shy. Jongho looked at you with his eyebrows lifted thinking maybe he misheard your request, you two sat in pure silence looking at each other for a moment.

"I-uh-w-what are we talking about?" He said sounding like he was malfunctioning.

"Wait- What were you talking about?" You said as panic started to set in.

"I was talking about how you may have been embarrassed by your costume after our talk and I was trying to say it was okay and that I liked it." His voice was panicking too at this point.

"Oh my God I thought you noticed how turned on I was since you showed me your thighs-" Why the hell did you just admit that out loud? "Oookay gotta go- you can fire me it's cool" You started to hurry and grab your bag and headed for the door, Jongho walked from around his desk to grab your arm.

"D-do you want to do that with me for real?" He said trying to avoid eye contact and you got a glance at his red face.

You paused in front of the door, your face heating up and you turned to look at his cute little shy face.

"I mean..."

...

Welp, here you were sitting on your manager's thigh with your skirt off while he sat in his office chair, you were facing him and holding his strong shoulders while he held your waist. The only thing separating your core from his thigh is your thin thong, he could already feel the dampness on his bare thigh.

"Ready?" You asked him.

"Yeah... as long as you are." He said, you nodded as a reply then started to slowly rock your hips on too his thigh, the friction of your clit rubbing his strong legs was like a water hose putting out a fire, you and Jongho both looked down and watched as your hips moved at a steady pace, small breathy whimpers came out of your lips.

"You're so cute Y/N, does this feel good for you?" He looked up at you to ask, you nodded once again. Jongho moved his hands to grip your thighs where your thigh highs and your skin met, he pulled you back and forth faster, your whimpers developed into full moans while your heat started to drool more and create a trail of your slick on his thigh.

"Mr. Choi it feels so good." You said sounding out of breath. You still calling him Mr. Choi in this moment made his dick start to rise.

"What I said earlier was true Y/N, I like your thigh too." He said as his grip was tighter and his thumbs started to rub your inner thighs. You were like ice as you melted under his touch.

"When I saw you come into my office wearing that skimpy little costume It took everything in me not to lay you across my desk and lick and suck them." your hips started to move sloppily from his words, and you felt your climax rushing at you all from riding him like this but before you could come he lifted you off of him and placed you on the desk, swiping everything on the floor and laying you back.

"These thighs are so pretty I probably won't even need to fuck your pretty little pussy to cum. I can put my dick between them and fuck you just like that, would you like that?" He hovered over you as he pressed his hard dick onto your leg.

"Yes please Mr. Choi, use my thighs to cum." He didn't say a word, he swiftly removed your wet panties to reveal your oozing core. He pulled his pants and underwear down and his member sprung out, nice and thick just like everything else on his body, he brought his hand to your lips and simply said "Spit" so you did, he used your spit to lube his dick and pumped it few times before pulling you down to the edge of the desk and spreading your legs a bit to place his hard dick between your soft thighs. He kept your thigh highs on because he loved the way they squeezed you. Gripping both your thighs he closed his dick between them and started to move back and forth, your slick acted as a natural lube along with your saliva, his rod rubbing your sensitive-edged clit was already driving you crazy but the wet and sticky feeling on his hot rod made you want to combust.

"Your thighs are so warm Y/N, it feels so good I might cover them in cum." his hands gripping the back them tighter as he hissed at the sensation, you were a moaning mess and the thought of him shooting his load onto was almost your end.

"I bet you wore this outfit just for me to fuck these pretty legs, did you want me to see that bad baby, are you that hot for my attention?" He grunted out as his strokes sped up. You didn't pin Jongho the prude to be this hot sex-talking guy but fuck were you happy you found out.

"Mr. Choi please- I'm going to cum." his pace sped up even more, his dick sloppily running over your dripping wet pussy.

"Mm I am too baby Cum for me cum for Mr. Choi." he hissed back, his hips and yours bucking together, spews of curse words came from your soft lips as you came, your slick completely coating the bottom side of his dick and balls, Jongho shot his load as well, his hot cum dripping down onto you and some shooting up to your shirt. He finished his breathing came back to earth to realize he ruined your clothes and hurried to grab the tissue box that he had knocked on the floor earlier to hand to you.

"S-sorry about that, I know you said you were going to a costume party with your friends, feel free to make a last-minute outfit with anything out there and I pay for it." He said feeling genuinely bad.

"Jongho, fuck that party, we still have more work to do here."

[underesources]

STAR TREK : THE ORIGINAL SERIES SENTENCE STARTERS.

season 2 episode 15 , the trouble with tribbles. feel free to change things as needed.

❛ I was making a little joke. ❜

❛ We do have the better claim. ❜

❛ I don't think so. ❜

❛ Is the rest of your history that faulty ? ❜

❛ But there's nothing there. ❜

❛ What is your emergency ? ❜

❛ I'll try to explain. ❜

❛ You'll try to explain. ❜

❛ You'd better be prepared to do more than that. ❜

❛ I'll need your help. ❜

❛ ________ , you've made your point. ❜

❛ What do you mean ? ❜

❛ I see you didn't waste time taking your shore leave. ❜

❛ How often do I get shore leave ? ❜

❛ She wants to shop, and I thought I would help her. ❜

❛ Oh, excuse me. ❜

❛ I've read about this, but I've never seen any before. ❜

❛ I don't want any. ❜

❛ How sad for you, my friend. ❜

❛ But I have something better. ❜

❛ You're a difficult man to reach. ❜

❛ What is it ? ❜

❛ May I hold it ?❜

❛ Oh, it's adorable. ❜

❛ What is it ? ❜

❛ It's only saying that it likes you. ❜

❛ That's what we're trying to decide right now. ❜

❛ He won't bite, will he ? ❜

❛ Twice nothing is still nothing. ❜

❛ I think he's cute. ❜

❛ Is that an offer or a joke ? ❜

❛ That's my offer. ❜

❛ That's a joke. ❜

❛ You're an honest man. ❜

❛ You're talking yourself out of a deal, friend. ❜

❛ When can I have them ? ❜

❛ What is it ? ❜

❛ Now, that's just lovely. ❜

❛ We'll be right up. ❜

❛ Ah, my dear __________. ❜

❛ Let me assure you that my intentions are peaceful. ❜

❛ We have been in space for five months. ❜

❛ What we choose as recreation is our own business. ❜

❛ Yes, well, I don't make those decisions. ❜

❛ May I speak to you a minute ? ❜

❛ I don't want them here. ❜

❛ I don't have the authority to refuse. ❜

❛ Well, I have the authority to act, and I'm going to use it. ❜

❛ There will be no trouble. ❜

❛ So, naturally, our relationship will be a peaceful one. ❜

❛ Let us both take steps to keep it that way. ❜

❛ Of course. ❜

❛ Don't you ever relax ? ❜

❛ I am relaxing. ❜

❛ How long have you had that thing, ________ ? ❜

❛ May I ask where you'll be ? ❜

❛ You noticed that, huh ? ❜

❛ This ought to take care of it. ❜

❛ I haven't figured that out yet. ❜

❛ Get it away from me. ❜

❛ Take it away ! ❜

❛ Ah, my good friend. ❜

❛ Where I come from, that's soda pop. ❜

❛ This is a drink for a man. ❜

❛ You ought to be more forgiving. ❜

❛ I just remembered. ❜

❛ Take it easy, lad. ❜

❛ Everybody's entitled to an opinion. ❜

❛ Don't do it, mister, and that's an order. ❜

❛ You heard what he called the captain. ❜

❛ It's not worth fighting for. ❜

❛ We're big enough to take a few insults. ❜

❛ Don't you think you should rephrase that ? ❜

❛ I want to know who started it. ❜

❛ I'm waiting. ❜

❛ You started it, didn't you ? ❜

❛ Must have been some insult. ❜

❛ Is this off the record ? ❜

❛ You told us to avoid trouble. ❜

❛ This was a matter of pride. ❜

❛ What's the matter ? ❜

❛ Don't tell me you've got a feeling. ❜

❛ Don't be insulting, _______. ❜

❛ What did you say ? ❜

❛ Now if you'll excuse me. ❜

❛ I think of this project as very important. ❜

❛ It is you I take lightly. ❜

❛ To whom are you referring? ❜

❛ You heard me. ❜

❛ I heard you. ❜

❛ He simply could not believe his ears. ❜

❛ What else do you have ? ❜

❛ Do you have any proof of that ? ❜

❛ I want these off the ship. ❜

❛ What's wrong ? ❜

❛ It's not working. ❜

❛ Let me try it. ❜

❛ You should have known. ❜

❛ I think I've got it. ❜

❛ You can't let him. ❜

❛ May I make a request ? ❜

❛ Hold on a minute. ❜

❛ Well, there's no accounting for taste. ❜

❛ Are you going to talk ? ❜

❛ I have nothing to say. ❜

❛ I suppose I'm free to go now. ❜

❛ There is one thing you can do. ❜

❛ You'll do it ? ❜

❛ How did you do it ? ❜

❛ I cannot take credit for another man's work. ❜

❛ Where are they ? ❜

❛ I gave them a good home. ❜

[scoobydoodean]

Coming back to discussions on 6.06 because it wasn't on my mind at the time—the title of this episode is "You Can't Handle The Truth". On it's face, it's a reference to the curse victims get in this episode and how they literally cannot handle the truth, but it's also a reference to the movie/play "A Few Good Men". In 6.06, we still know very little about what Cas is up to. The title is a nice bit of foreshadowing for what's going on behind the scenes, but more interestingly, a tell regarding the unspoken emotions and resentments in play between Dean and (especially) Cas. Watch this scene (or read the transcript from IMDB copied below) and it's easy to see that Cas is Jessep (Nickolson's character) and Dean is Kaffee (Cruise's character)*.

Col. Jessep: You want answers? Kaffee: I think I'm entitled. Col. Jessep: You want answers? Kaffee: I WANT THE TRUTH! Col. Jessep: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH! Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know; that Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it! I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way, otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to! Kaffee: Did you order the code red? Col. Jessep: I did the job I- Kaffee: Did you order the Code Red? Col. Jessep: You're God damn right I did!

I don't think Cas is so blasé—I think a primary reason he lies to Dean is that he's ashamed of his actions and doesn't want anyone (Dean, Balthazar, the other angels he's lying to) to look down on him. But he also believes his actions are necessary, and he also doesn't think Dean can handle being a part of doing what Cas believes needs to be done. He very truly believes Dean can't handle the truth and doesn't want him or anyone else who "can't handle it" to stand in his way, and that's the other reason he lies. Whether Cas's resentment deep down reaches the levels Jessep feels for Kaffee is also another matter, but I think it's probably not terribly far off even if not as extreme. Cas's actions are cold, calculated, sometimes cruel, and (in his eyes) absolutely necessary—but (from his perspective) no one else can handle it and no one else will ever appreciate what he's doing or the "necessary" moral sacrifices he's making.

*Adding another interesting dimension here, Jensen Ackles starred as Kaffee in a stage play of "A Few Good Men" in 2007.

[olderthannetfic]

I found myself rereading an old discussion about AO3 commenting culture (ye olde "Authors aren't owed comments" vs. "Readers aren't owed fic either" wank). And you know, it strikes me that a lot of the drama in such discussions is rooted in the fact that people only ever seem to engage with the worst things the opposite side says. And of course that leads to miscommunication, because the extremes are not generally applicable to most people.

Like, for instance. Someone going "I comment so regularly I practically gave myself burn-out commenting". Authors complaining about people who act entitled to stories aren't talking about you, I promise. They're talking about people who genuinely can't be bothered or go on flippant "Why don't you just write for yourself?" rants, while still enjoying other people's work. Ditto on the other side: people get offended at being called entitled authors, but odds are good the person isn't referring to you, who would simply like to not shout into the void, odds are good they're referring to the asshole authors they've met who'd throw hissy hits over comments that weren't phrased exactly to their liking, because yes, people like that do exist so it's simply flat out wrong to say "Just comment, authors are always happy to see comments, no matter how short! :)"

Also, a particular comment jumped out at me:

"It's not a consumer's job to compliment a promote an artist's work"

I generally agree that acting like people are owed comments is useless and stupid, but if I had to pick a phrasing that sums up my misgivings about common commenting culture, it's this. So many people seem to act like authors are getting a paycheck for this and don't need any additional motivator.

The other thing that bugs me is when people talk about all the reasons they don't comment (low spoons, anxiety, tired, etc.), but ignore the fact that authors have to deal with all of the above, too. And not just in fanfic. It seems any time there's any kind of social conflict being discussed (like, say, replying to a friend's messages in a vaguely timely manner) a ton of people will trot out excuses for why they can't do [insert what's generally seen as the vaguely courteous thing to do], but inadvertently act like that makes them special and like they're the only ones who have these legitimately valid excuses.

This started in one place and led to another, sorry. I guess I'm just frustrated with the Tumblr mental health culture of "I have a semi-specific reason I struggle with this so I'm not even going to try". I think people overcompensate too much for "Just don't be disabled!"-style ableism and swing too hard in the embraced helplessness direction.

Back to fanfic, every time I see the "I can't do it because of X" thing in the context of commenting, I can't help but think of how many authors also deal with depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, low spoons, etc. and how easy it would have been for them to give up, but they got through it and posted the fanfic anyway, and how often they're then met with silence because the prevailing attitude among their audience is e.g. "I read this before bed and was too sleepy to comment, and too forgetful to comment the next day". I think about some of the fic I've written, often fic written when I maybe should have been doing something else, or fic written at the cost of sleep, or hyperfixating at my keyboard for six hours instead of going for a nice hike with my family, and it's hard not to get a little bitter, you know? Talking about legitimate reasons for why commenting is hard just so often comes across as "You're free to make sacrifices to write the stuff I read, but I won't make any"

I also feel a bit bitter that it's impossible to even discuss these things in a vacuum without someone going "Discussions like this are why I've stopped commenting", as someone inevitably will in the notes of this post. "Just shut up and make your Content(TM) and don't complain about anything", is what it feels like.

--

The entire phrasing of reward and owing is stupid.

The reality is that lots of people won't produce work unless they feel like someone cares. No amount of moralizing or excuses will change that.

It's also the reality that posting to the masses on AO3 or tumblr will result in maybe one like or other interaction per hundred hits if you're really, really lucky. The rate has never been much better than that, and it never will be. It's often very much worse.

If one personally wants to encourage people, sure, go out and do that, but any call to action that ignores the above two realities is like fighting the tide.

I do think "It's not my job to promote you" typically comes up in the context of meltdowns about letting artists "languish in your likes" instead of being reblogged onto your actual blog and/or contexts where the artist/author/etc. is selling their work.

Here's the thing: people who never comment do not count.

They think they're part of a community. They're not. If you don't participate, you're a ghost.

When some author moves to a more enclosed space, a lot of people who saw themselves as part of something are suddenly left out in the cold, wondering why. But the fact is, if you don't pay the entry fee of socializing with others, you're nobody to them.

The entitled randos don't matter. If they bug you enough, take your toys and retreat to a discord with your friends.

[winepresswrath]

hi! i always love your MDZS/CQL takes; can i ask what are the questions you think CQL is asking, as compared to MDZS?

I haven't actually revisited either canon in ages, which is making me nervous. what questions the novel is interested in can be pretty contentious all on its own! @mikkeneko has an excellent answer in the notes here which I reccomend to everyone. My own thoughts are honestly pretty scattered- I keep on deleting things and going hm, that's not quite right.

So, for the obvious-to-me example, people reasonably zero in on the creation of innocent doctors/radish farmers who Wen Ruohan is holding hostage. In CQL it's easy to infer that Wen Qing and Wen Ning are maybe the only cultivators and almost certainly the only combatants among the Wen remnants, and their status is much more ambiguous in the novel, which I personally think is asking, essentially, "and so what? were they wrong to run, when they had a chance? Do they deserve what Jin Guangshan will do to them if they go back? Aren't they just people, actually?" Whereas the question that CQL is asking is more to the effect of "What does Wen Qing owe these people, when she is their only defence? What is she entitled to do to save them, at other people's expense? If she fucks up that moral calculus, what then? Does it matter if she's personally fond of some of the outsiders who are going to get hurt? If one of them saved her brother? Later, this question will flip to what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, and the parallel to Jiang Cheng's situation in particular is, I think, genuinely pretty fun. You're giving up the Wen as soldiers who've laid down their arms in exchange for Wen Qing also grappling with leadership and the question of how many horrors she can stand to look the other way on to protect her own people. one reason I keep deleting so much is that a lot cql's changes were motivated at least in part by censorship, which I think we mostly share a general and justified distaste for! but I also think that within the bounds of that censorship the creative team put a lot of work into actually doing something interesting with those changes. Or, for another example- nieyao! There's a much greater emphasis on the nmj-jgy relationship, it's unambiguously very close and they are clearly extremely important to one another, and I think that's because the cql team has a lot to say about love, trust, power, and the ways those things interact, and that reflects back on all of the other relationships in play, including Wangxian. Almost every time, when CQL chooses change a relationship they make the characters in question closer- that's true for Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, for Wen Qing and the Yunmeng contingent, for Zixuan and Mianmian, and Huaisang and Meng Yao. It's even true for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, who have a close and trusting relationship in first life! CQL puts a much greater emphasis on "all right, so you care, what next?" How do you choose someone and then choose to be good to them? What if there's a massive power disparity between you? What if you seriously disagree about your priorities and morals? How do you trust someone who's betrayed you? When is it a stupid choice to trust at all? How do you have faith that you know someone well enough for that trust to be meaningful?

for legal reasons i would like to specify that it's not that mdzs isn't interested in these problems. i do remember wangxian's literal trust fall. cql is asking these questions all the time about everyone. also for legal purposes i'm not suggesting that cql lwj and jc love each other. but! they establish a three month wartime partnership looking for wwx and then jc immediately drops him on wwx's say-so despite apparently having a positive enough opinion of him to tell wwx he thinks they should make up twice. lan wangji will later tell wwx he thinks he should loop jc in on the second flautist! these are people trying to navigate some kind of relationship/shared interest/community, as opposed to a hateful void. cql wants to say hey, how do you go about this? while I'm here and rambling cql also puts a lot of emphasis on wwx's connection to yunmeng and changes things up so instead of feeling alienated right before he leaves our last glimpse of him there is happily picking lotuses and playing with a kid! in both stories the narrative is asking who do you protect? who do you leave behind? can you ever get it back? but the angles are very different.

[capitaletele]

if you're still taking title prompts, "I've got the whole world in my hand" for the first pairing you think of !

Oh hey, remember this meme? In true me fashion I asked for prompts and then never actually answered, but I am in high procrastination mood again so here goes.

This is obviously an angsty Sadia fic, in which she's standing on the Naziland balcony, watching the party while recalling all the ways everyone in the building have wronged her and how she's about to take her revenge on them all.

[Angst! Obvs 😅]

She thinks about the way Cristal made her feel, way back when they were [doing something as fancy teenagers together, idk, they had the same violin tutor or horse-riding coach or something], and how she even tried to be a boy for her, but Cristal walked away the second she got a chance to work at TéléCapitale anyway so it didn't matter. About how Cristal didn't even suspect when she saw her again, despite all the hints Sadia dropped in the first few days, her heart pounding every time Cristal came into view like she was 15 again.

She thinks about Zéro, who she knew when he was still an idealist who was going to tell his dad to go fuck himself on top of all his millions; when they would get high together and lie on the roof of their military school "for troubled boys" and make grand plans about how to improve the world together; before Zéro came of age and was drafted into the War for a decade and came back a dead-eyed, insufferable, entitled wannabe-dictator asshole who wouldn't let her past his security anymore because he was too afraid of what the papers would write.

She thinks about Stella, whose posters were on her bedroom walls, and who's become a wreck of a human; and about Ziggy who was so ready to sell out it was too easy to lure him to the dark side and make him spill all of Johnny's remaining secrets, and about how every single person in this room tonight, celebrating Zéro's victory, is likely just the same spineless pit of cowardice and disappointment.

Except Johnny, she'd thought. She hadn't expected anything but he'd surprised her. He wasn't like the others -- until the moment that he was exactly like everyone else. She thinks about how she could have saved him, would have saved him, if only he'd done what he was told for once in his fucking life. About how she could have loved him, if only he hadn't had a dick for a brain, pointing towards Cristal from the moment she stepped into the room like a fucking compass towards the North, just like everyone else.

About how none of them have ever deserved her, and about how kind she's being to them all, really, ending their poor little pathetic lives that weren't even worth living anyway, mercy-killing them right here in the middle of a party so they will die with the taste of champagne on their tongues and a dumb smile on their lips.

Except for the ones she's going to kill face to face, of course. Both of them, or perhaps just one; she hasn't decided which one yet.

Whichever will hurt her the most, so she can feel alive again, just for a second before the end.

[calaisreno]

Those Who Can't

I've always loved writing, but for a long time thought it was pretentious to call myself a writer. What if someone asked to see what I'm writing? What if they didn't like it? That would make me a terrible writer, I thought, one of those people who go around thinking they're great while everyone is secretly laughing at them.

But I walk in the park every day, and I see people who walk there, too. We're all walkers, even the guy who brings his oxygen tank with him every day, even the woman who sits down to smoke a cigarette before she finishes her walk. The young parents pushing strollers, the women in hijab, the elderly lady who has her hair "done" each week and wears jewellery while she does her doctor-prescribed exercise, the people who are overweight or all lean muscle and bone, the people looking for Pokemon, the business suits walking during their lunch hour. All walking, all walkers.

If you walk, you're a walker. If you write, you're a writer.

It's said that those who can't do something become teachers. As a teacher, I resent the implication that we have all failed at something and now pretend to instruct others how not to fail. But it's true in the sense that we are all learners, never finished learning, and no one knows this better than a teacher. Every day I learn just how much I don't know.

Years ago I was walking down the hall of my school, heading for the copy machine, three minutes from the next bell, and an administrator stopped me.

"Would you like to teach creative writing?" she asked. "We need more elective courses next year."

At the time I was teaching three Latin classes and two freshman English classes. Did I really need another prep?

Could I even do this? Why me? What made me more qualified than the other people in my department? How would I teach it? What would the course description say? Who would take the class?

"Yes," I said.

When I started teaching it in the fall, I didn't have answers to all my questions, but I had a plan. The most frustrating thing, I learned, was teaching people who hadn't signed up for it, and just needed a course to fill a hole in their schedule. I thought writing was easy-- and fun! We could all have a good time here, because it was just about self-growth and imagination.

I learned was that I was not the expert. My students might be terrible writers, might hate every moment of journaling and writing exercises and prompts, but they had ideas, too. They were just too used to thinking their ideas were shit, that creativity wasn't worth anything, that the things that mattered were the things that could get them a good job.

My job, it turns out, was coaxing them to open up and explore ideas, to think divergently, to regard storytelling as more than entertainment. Stories matter; how we tell them makes a difference. I was not an expert. I read a lot and wrote stories for fun. And I became my first pupil.

Nearly everything I learned about writing, I got from teaching it. And I haven't yet reached the point where I felt entitled to call myself a writer. I still sort of cringe when I confess to someone that I write. But I keep writing.

"No writing is a waste of time – no creative work where the feelings, the imagination, the intelligence must work. With every sentence you write, you have learned something. It has done you good. Don't always be appraising yourself, wondering if you are better or worse than other writers." -- Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

So, @arcanavoid made me thinking about Lucio in their post

WELL THEN LETS TALK ABOUT LUCIO YOU BITCHES

Pleas keep in mind that I'm right now very drunk and I'm not a native speaker and the autocorrect for this phone can only do so much Also I'm in a different time zone so if you see this at, like 10 in the morning or whatever, no worries bc now is definitely night here and I also program my posts I have not a drinking problem thats why I cant hold my f-ing liquor

WELL THEN MY DEAR LUCIO and

WHY

as a person who is very close to people with serious mental illness, like i legit live with them

I THINK LUCIO'S ROUTE IS SO GREAT

Let's start with an assumption: we're all assholes. Somewhere in our life, maybe in the past, or present, or future, we are huge AH. It's not like we're evil and condemned to hell, it's just that as humans we're small, petty and miserable so we behave badly and are very selfish when big difficulties challenge us. Like, sometimes we manage to scramble enough willpower and common sense to act decently as we're afraid and suffering, but lots of times we don't and make shitty things. So here's my first point:

1. We all are a Lucio sometimes. Or often.

Like, way more than we want to admit. We're afraid, we're too full of ourselves, and we behave in petty ways. We're mean towards strangers, we feel happy in humiliating them and showing the world how better than anyone else we are. We need something bc we live in a world that doesn't grant basic human rights (food, shelter, health, safety and human connection), so we strain to get those things, sometimes at others' expenses. Then we tell ourself that those people deserved our scorn and malice because they're bad, and we tell us such lies because facing the guilt of what we've done is painful and complex.

We need to show ourselves we're better, so enjoy picking at others' mistakes without caring who they are in a whole (this is super easy on the internet). All this while low key ignoring what bad we're more or less responsible for.

And we are. Like, if you ever did buy something on sites like shein, you are actually exploiting poor people who are basically slaves. And you're keeping a blind eye on it.

But you know what? You're not evil for this. We're weak sometimes, we're tired, we have little time and really don't have the lucidity to think whether this stupid chicken breast is full of hormones and antibiotics or not. We're humans and we're small. Often we're sad, afraid and tired and we need a malicious self esteem bost.

Often, we're Lucio.

2. A flaming piece of trash can change. And doesn't need others' forgiveness to do so.

Did you notice how everyone is so eager to show of other people are wrong and bad and evil? That's because they, and we as well, need reassurance about how we're the hero of the story.

That's because we can't tolerate being the flaming piece of trash, because the the flaming piece of trash can't change and everyone hates them.

This idea is stupid.

It doesn't matter how low you fell. How many people you hurt, how many times you made the same stupid mistake or how many people deeply despise you. You still can change.

That's why is

So

Important

To have a Lucio route where it's shown he can choose to be better, no matter how deeply wrong his past deeds were.

The moment we understand this concept is the one our guilt becomes less heavy and we start being less judging of others. Granted.

This doesn't mean you're entitled to people's forgiveness - but the fact that YOU are willing to forgive yourself means that you can really change and forgive others. If some people won't forgive you, it will be fine, no need to hate them: you can always find new people to gift your better self to.

This is what happens to Lucio. Will Asra ever truly forgive him for making him and orphan and killing you? No. But this doesn't mean that Lucio will be a villain forever. He will be still able to change, become a good man and gift his goodness to the MC.

As MC says to Julian: you can always come back.

3. What it takes to change

Now, I'm in general rly humble when talking about mental health bc I'm no doctor nor therapist. But living with people who went through hell and managed to survive (and knowing people who sadly didn't), made me able to figure a couple of things. So, brace yourself. I'm about to give you the ultimate recipe of healing.

It takes two things:

Compassion and Accountability

When all is said and done, this things are the two main things it takes to change and heal. Compassion for believing you can change and deserve happiness, seeing the world through other people's eyes and accountability to motivate you into stop being a dick and owning the shit you did (so yeah, maybe you should stop blaming your parents for who you are, sry, but it doesn't serves your cause).

and there's one and only one way to get them:

Positive human connections.

That's it. When you go to the bone to it, that's how one can change, heal and survive.

It's reduced to the very bone, simple idea: the whole process is much more complicated and it's ok if you get lost in it. But at the very root, this is it.

And this is WHY Lucio's route it's so great:

MC shows compassion, because they don't recall him doing anything bad to them.

MC helps him being accountable. They doesn't shelter Lucio from his guilt, never.

MC believes in them but NEVER puts up with their shit

MC doesn't believe his lies and doesn't lie to them either. No games: they talk through everything, they're kind but firm and true.

MC helps him accept other people's scorn towards him

I love this route because it's the one where the MC is the most clever. There's a murder mistery? Let's ask the ghost of the murdered one who did it. Everyone is mad at him? Let them be. Not bc "he deserves it", but bc people are entitled to be mad at him and to their idea about him. He has troubles with his mother? Don't get between them. Listen, understand, let them unravel their shit. Ghosts are mad at him? Sit with him, but don't do his emotional weightlifting. Mc puts Lucio in front of his deeds and holds his hand as he deals with them.

Folks: THIS is how it's done irl.

4. No dumb justification & the danger of privilege

There are a lot of shows about "why villains are like this" that paint them as a poor misunderstood saint who was mistreated by their parents. Like in Once Upon a Time or the Disney Villain's Live actions. I hate that stuff because they distort the plot to make the villain a misunderstood anti heroe who was a victim all along, so he's justified.

Guess what: they're not. If you actions are evil there's no justification. No retelling of your story: you made very bad choice and were an AH and that's it.

This is what happens with Lucio: in his route his story doesn't gets to be retold. It's an honest story about how Lucio, the villain, can choose to be the better man and benefit from it. It's a story about the inherent dangers of Privilege:

Lucio's story shows how dangerous privilege can be: he wasn't hold accountable for his actions while he was alive, bc he was pretty, powerful and rich. He loses his privilege, he gets his ass kicked, he find motivations to change in his desire to be loved. I know irl folks who got to adulthood without having to face how shitty they were bc of social privilege. It literally kept them from changing, healing and be happy. So beware, folks. Your privilege might be harming you in the first place, and the day you will face who you truly are without it WILL come. The later, the worst.

So, this is why I love Lucio's route. It's relatable and helps us to find the courage to face our demons, knowing that we can change. Knowing that we can forgive ourselves and accept others' scorn. It WILL be hard, it WILL be painful, there WILL be consequences, but eventually it will be worth the hassle.

So, long live the goatman, for he can change. And so do we.

[hello-nichya-here]

Let’s be real. The only reason toxic Zutarians and delusional Zukkas became so rampant is for the same reason.

Zutararians and Zukkas are two generations of the same issue.

Maiko is written so incoherently and Mai gets no development of her own. Zuko and her are a terrible match and treat each other poorly (I know the fandom can’t agree which one is at fault but I don’t think it matters).

Fans searching for a more satisfying conclusion of the fandom fav Zuko stumble into the waiting clutches of Zutarians or Zukkas who bombard them with their terrible takes, OOC writing, and admittedly beautiful fan art. Before you know it, they lose touch with actual canon.

This is all Bryke’s fault for writing Maiko terribly.

And yet people blame Zucest… nonsense!

Anon, I don't mean to be rude, but you're just wrong all around. Not only do I not think Maiko is terrible (might not be my OTP, but I am fond of it), but even if it WAS and fans had to rely on fanon for good romance, that does NOT explain or justify the way Zutarians and Zukkas not only act like their personal preference is objectively better than everyone else's but also actively lie to themselves and others about their ships totally being secretly canon but screwed over at the last second.

They do that for one reason alone: Entitlement. They're entitled, spoiled cry babies who screetch at anyone with a different preference because they take it as a personal attack.

Bryke writting Maiko any differently would not have made these people less insufferable. Hell, their ships hapenning in the exact way they wanted them to would also not do the trick, if anything it'd make them worse.

It doesn't matter what you think about Bryke as writers and people, or how you feel about the canon ships: The bad behavior of Zutara and Zukka fans is the responsibility of Zutara and Zukka fans, nobody else.

I don't like Legend Of Korra or the comics. Never sent a death threat to the people who made them. Never harassed fans of it or had them doxxed. I love Zucest to unhealthy degrees, but you won't see me claiming "There was totally a deleted scene of them kissing in the finale instead of fighting, but evil Bryke ruined it all, and if you don't believe my obvious bullshit I'll scream at you until I'm blue in the face!"

I LOATHE the ending of How I Met Your Mother with all my being, and resent the showrunners for being such dicks to fans and complaining we didn't praise their terrible writting. I would NEVER accuse them of abusing their authority over the actors and being predators just because I disagree with awful messages the finale sent - something zutarians do Kataang and Maiko fans ALL THE TIME.

It's really, really, really, really easy to not do that kind of stuff.

Be critical of Bryke and their writting, have whatever opinion you wanna have on Maiko, but let's not pretend writers/showrunners are to blame for FANS attacking people.

It'd be like going "Oh, this actress and her fans got death threats because audiences didn't like her character, clearly this is the writers fault for mishandling said character" NOPE, the blame of that kind of awful behavior ALWAYS lies solely with the people who choose to act like that.

[bratbarzal]

Hi. I came here because I feel like it's a safe space (you honestly don't have to answer if you don't want to) I don't usually do fic requests (mainly because I don't get them) but I got one recently and I wrote it but the requester didn't even thank me? Idk if im looking too much into this. I just feel like it's kinda rude. It could be how I was raised to always be polite and have manners and that's why I'm thinking this. Idk I'm just feeling a bit meh about my writing and this has been on my mind. (I also know that I can look too much into things so I don't wanna start anything with anyone 😅)

Sorry for the long ask and like I said you don't have to answer if you don't wanna. I just wanted to say what I've been thinking/feeling somewhere and I feel like your account is a safe space. Thank you for your time

first of all, I appreciate you thinking of me to come to!! it's nice to know that you feel like I could help you, and I hope I can lmao!! I've had a couple similar conversations with people lately and I'll try summarise my thoughts but I really respect you for getting it off your chest!!

second, I think it can just be a general issue within the space that people take the whole craft for granted sometimes!! I think feedback can be so scarce and it's not always coming from a place of people not liking what you wrote, but maybe that they don't know what to say or they forget the ~exchange element of requesting a fic idk like I completely understand how you feel, though. sometimes I'll work really hard on a request or on anything, and when people don't engage with it, it's disheartening, and even though I know it shouldn't be about notes and comments and feedback, it's almost like you're doing a 3 hour performance to an empty room hahaha - like obviously there's reward in you getting it done but like, you're also entitled to want some form of applause?? I've lost the metaphor I'm trying to work with here but I'm hoping that makes sense 😭😭

I think it's really easy for people to overlook how much work goes into writing - and especially writing a request where sometimes it's harder because it's not fully coming from your own idea and you sort of have the pressure of catering it to a specific person (if that even makes sense lmao) and that you're prioritising it over something else - but it's not always intentional when people don't respond, and I think it's important to remember that!

I also think there's probably an expectation vs reality element to the whole thing where some people will consider liking a post as a full response or a full reaction, and while that is a great thing to do, it doesn't potentially live up to the hopes of the creator

you're definitely not overreacting or anything tho, I completely feel the same way sometimes!! I feel like I get into my head about the same sort of thing - I'm making more of an effort to reblog, and to leave comments, and to share more writing because I know what it's like to be on the other end, and I'll always encourage others to do the same, but for some people it's just not their style to give that level of a response, you know?? it's a rough thing to come to terms with but I do think it's just the nature of the community sometimes that we forget to spread the love, and we can't force people to do it but I'd also say it's okay to express your feelings, too. I know I get shit for being forward but it's nice to get things off your chest, don't be afraid of posting and saying if people like your writing you'd really appreciate them letting you know in some way, even if it's a comment with an emoji or a like!! you're not asking for too much!!

either way, try not to let it deter you from writing, or doing any other sort of requests!! people might not always thank you, but it might reach someone else who will love it enough for that not to matter!!

also this goes out to anyone if you ever want to tag me in any writing feel free!! 💕

[your-queer-dad]

hi dad, this is going to be a looong rant

came out to my mom recently and it’s been a big hit to my mental health. Although she said she doesn’t care about my identity, she followed it up with a rant about how I am a self centered person with more important attributes to develop than gender.

She suggested I not come out to my stepdad, because he is “not transphobic, but would be uncomfortable financially supporting a trans person and having them around his kids (my half sisters)”. I live them both full time and am a minor (16). Since he makes all the money (even though he lets her spend whatever on clothes and groceries) I will not be getting gender affirming clothes.

…so I feel as if I am effectively back in the closet!

She will not gender me masc at all, even when we are in private. She also said she sees me more as nonbinary, but I didn’t have the energy to explain that I am nb but still want to be exclusively he/him and go on T.

I feel so tired now. On one hand I wish I never came out as trans, because at least her misgendering could he excused as unintended. Although I want to give her the benefit of the doubt at every step, her lack of support is not neutral when I am otherwise alone. For reasons separate from family my dysphoria has been at an all time high, but all I can do is watch as I inevitably have to perform femininity and for what? The sake of my quality of life and future? She said that being trans would make my easy life go into “hard mode”, and that trans people have a higher rate of suicide, but failed to consider how being there for me could lessen that burden. I feel entitled for wanting more but angry that someone I thought would be the first to support me shut me down completely.

Is there anywhere I could go from here? I feel like if I come out to my stepdad she won’t have an excuse, and I don’t think he’ll kick me out, but I don’t want the house to be in conflict until I move out. Plus, I always want to be there for my sisters and the last thing I want is to lose them because “it’s inappropriate” or “they won’t understand”.

regardless, thanks for lending an ear (or an eye?). writing this all out was a little relieving :)

Hey kiddo, I'm so sorry your mom reacted like that, that's awful and completely unfair. Honestly, you're not entitled at all for wanting help. And yeah, the trans suicide rate is high, but her behaviour and the behaviour of people like her is the reason. Is life harder for trans people? Yes, but it isn't our fault, we didn't choose this. I'm so sorry kiddo, I'm always here to listen no matter what.

- dad x

[milky-rozen]

Jokes aside, it might look like I'm trying to push some sort of propaganda here with my latest posts, but lettuce aside (lmao), I'm perfectly aware of the historical and mythological contexts I often talk about and the lack of sources we have to defend certain topics. But, on the other hand, I can't stand when some people think they can make use of said missing information to prove that "homosexuality never existed in Ancient Egypt, let alone in its mythology" or to attack people who like to explore this topic with their art or thesis.

But most importantly, I can't stand when these self- entitled people think others aren't educated at all in such matters. Like, you have no idea how much time I've spent researching on these topics just for the sake of having some CRUMBS which could at least give me some sort of insight. But even if I didn't, no one gives these people the right to go against artistic liberty.

You don't like what you're seen?

JUST SCROLL DOWN. IT'S EASY AND IT DOESN'T COST A DAMN THING.

Some would argue that a little critique wouldn't hurt anyone. But I can assure you, ill-intentioned people are easy to spot. I mean we've all experienced what being in fandoms is like at a certain point in our lives, and I'm sure anyone can tell which opinion is helpful and valid and which is biased and rude on purpose. I've been there so many times I can recognize such people from a single sentence now.

Kinda, but yeah, it's not hard to notice, I promise.