#again i really really hope i've tagged it so people can filter it out but let me know if i should add sth

[strawberrycamel]

Communal DPxDC tag blocklist

heyy, so i'm just gonna share all the tags i've been using to block DPxDC posts bc i think it might be helpful for others trying to avoid those crossover posts.

First, the official tag that is meant to be used for dp and dc crossover posts is DPxDC (without spaces) and you are not supposed to tag either of the main fandoms when you make a DPxDC post.

That being said, my blocked tags are:

(edit: put under a readmore bc its a bit long)

anger management prompt

anger management ship

batpham

dan phantom x jason todd

danny phantom batman

danny phantom dc

danny phantom dc crossover

danny phantom x batman

danny phantom x batman crossover

danny phantom x dc

danny phantom x dc comics

danny phantom x justice league

danny phantom x young justice

danny x jason

dc x dp

dc x dp anger management

dc x dp au

dc x dp crossover

dc x dp fic

dc x dp fic idea

dc x dp prompt

dc x dp writing prompt

DC+DP

dcxdp

dcxdp crossover

dcxdp prompt

dp + dc

dp anger management

dp dc

dp dc crossover

dp x batman

DP x Batman DC

dp x dc

dp x dc anger management

dp x dc au

DP X DC Batman

dp x dc crossover

dp x dc fanfic

dp x dc fic

dp x dc headcanon

dp x dc prompt

dp x yj

dp/dc

DPDC

dpjl

DPxDC

jason todd x dan fenton

jazz x jason

jazz/jason

Ra's x Jazz

tim drake x danny fenton

There is also the option to put things in 'Filtered Post Content' which is right below 'Filtered Tags' and I've recently started to use it to block

DPxDC

As noted in the last reblog of this post, you can go full scorched earth in Filtered Post Content with one fandom to try and avoid DPxDC crossover posts as well. This doesn't work personally for me, since I like both fandoms separately, but it might be useful for others.

Please feel free to add to the blocklist!

[roxannepolice]

Ever since POTD aired I have been raging in my tags, casually reblogging wonderful gifs and fanarts, and staying away from discussions by not using any main tags, but. I'm starting to feel like that 52 Hz whale. Or Beatles' fool on the hill. And I can't tell if it's hearing impairment on my part or if the old guy playing the lyre is not really touching the strings. I can only hope anyone who might get upset filters their tags and won't go under the cut, but I genuinely need to share this with anyone.

Can someone tell me what the Doctor being forced to regenerate into the Master actually did? What it means, outside of welp, I guess text said it is so so it so and it's bad because the text said it's bad? Apart from the Doctor being... less un-present in the story than when a little girl turned them into a picture, but wtv, I get what happened here, Thirteen is in the netherworld of regeneration, and for now no embodied consciousness of the Doctor exists, while the Master's does. But that's in no way different from the Doctor just being dead? Stuff achieved by a self-made flood in alternative timeline in Turn Left? Tho I guess then the Master stays trapped as Yana at the end of the universe, incidentally Saxon is not mentioned in the episode and, well there's a reason TL is so good.

I mean, the one, definite thing that's supposed to stay throughout all of the regenerations, the thing that makes the character the same bloody character and not simply the same show with a protagonist of the same name are MEMORIES. Like this approach to identity or not, that's what's spelled out by Five:

And incidentally when Roberts!Master absorbs Eight's lives he also explicitly gets the Doctor's memories.

So, the logical conclusion is, the Master absorbed the Doctor's memories when she was forced to regenerate into him, right? That's what it means that he's the Doctor now, isn't it?

Well, no. He doesn't know who Fugutive Doctor is.

Something he should know if he now has the Doctor's memories. Nitpick? A handful of lines? Maybe. Except the plot's resolution depends on this handful of lines, you'd expect thought to be put into them. I guess the argument can be made that he's in post-regenerative stress? The Doctors sometimes had memory problems after regenerating? But that's kind of a stretch considering the confidence of both Yaz and the Doctor's disembodied memories that the Master won't know who Fugitive is. Watsonianly I guess this stretch could be made, but doylistly it's glaring that no thoughts were made.

And look, if it was just the case that the Master is an idiot? That the idea that one time lord can be regenerated into another was simply as wrong as that Rassilon will let them ascend into eternal choruses of harmony of the spheres? OK! I'd take it! Realisations are made, things are felt, reactions happen, a story is told. But in POTD no-one questions whether the Master is now the Doctor on the grounds of identity, memories, immortal soul, Dasein or whatever you choose to call it, only on... companions knowing the Master is not the Doctor. I guess in School Reunion Ten spent some time not being the Doctor when Sarah Jane hasn't spontaneously realised he's the person? And still was the Doctor as John Smith because Martha knew about the chameleon arch?

There could be some discussion about refected self as/vs. identity but this isn't what the text seems to be saying or what anyone got from it? And I know I'm ranting stuff out, but I genuinely want to discuss this! Am I missing something here, just what is there for the reader to sympathize with? I mean, it's sad, and Dhawan's teary lil' eyes are heartbreaking, but I really don't get what actually happened there?...

Which is something that frustrates me, personally. Again, I really don't want to start any haterants, it is no hill I'm ready to die on, in fact it's fairly possible I'll slide down it as soon as I post this, but I also really want to discuss this with someone...

'Cause right now I guess I have to admit this situation indeed makes me sympathize with the Master as the only person that seems aware of plot implications of a major development that noone else acknowledges. And I admit: it sucks.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!

Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.

I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.

I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!

searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox

Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!

Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!

Hope you have a great day! 🫶

updated on: 19/5

HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]

HEADCANONS

jealous!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)

dad's best friend!harry headcanons

mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons

harry in love

grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)

husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)

secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)

《《 SERIES》》

Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]

In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)

in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change

part 1

A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)

In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?

a misfortune - part 1

windfall - part 2

melancholia - part 3

Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)

In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4

Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

part 1 part 2 part 3

《LONG ONE SHOTS》

An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)

in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]

Just the two of us -vday check in

Serendipity*

harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]

Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2

harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]

Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)

y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]

Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]

《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》

SMUT

hot n' hard*

you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.

thigh riding*

you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well

don't stop

riding harry with your hands tied behind your back

breeding kink-blurb*

harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own

cupidity*

"don't make me take you home and punish you"

his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)

harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on

temporary fix*

in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))

three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)

in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences

curves*

a plus-size!y/n fic

good girl*

straight up filth, sex w/ harry

euphoria*

soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock

near the fireplace*

sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner

a new year, a new beginning*

new years with harry's family, followed by some love making

FLUFF

drunk harry

in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie

drunk y/n

in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry

addicted

about Harry’s addiction of kissing you

vexed

in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate

tranquility

inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean

here for you

a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!

baby

boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.

cuddles

ft. harry being cuddly and clingy

late-night serenades

you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting

breakfast in bed

in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten

hold on to me

(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.

a christmas with harry

your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends

dance with me

in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance

thanksgiving

coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you

ANGST

trepidation

in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.

insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)

in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk

waiting * for you(part 2)

a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love

disconnected*

first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities

requests are open!!!

(*-> smut)

blurb night concepts

21/4

divider and header by @/saradika

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Happy Birthday, little finch.

Gif credits

Pairing: Jackson!Joel X AFAB!reader

Words count: 6731

Rating: +18 NSFW, Minors please don’t interact

Summary: Everyone forgets your birthday but you receive an unexpected invitation (wink) that will change the fate of the day.

Warnings: POV second person, smut, little power dynamic, little brat taming, begging, unprotected P in V (please, always use protections in real life!), Reader's age is intentionally unspecified, you can imagine an age gap between her and Joel or not, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), nipples play, Joel comes on reader's tits, just a little of pulling hair, soft!Joel, grumpy!Joel, pet names (little finch, honey, baby, babe), mention of fasting as a sarcastic joke (I don’t condone joking about no one’s eating habits), reader has hair (It is not specified how long they are or what they look like), reader can be lifted by big and strong Joel, reader has a able body, breasts and vagina and she wears a dress, apart from that no other description is given, reader is part of the Jackson community, I don't know anything about Jackson, I only know a few details about second game’s plot (including that detail, yes) so everything I describe is purely from my imagination and may have no bearing on the original Jackson, brief appearances by Maria, Tommy, Ellie and Dina, drinking, swearing, Joel calls reader ���little finch” (I came up with this nickname just because my grandpa used to call me with a bird name when I was little and I always found it sweet, so here we go ❤️), Joel can draw (I don't know if it's true but for me it is, okay, allow me). I hope I haven't forgotten anything but if I do I'll add it as soon as I notice.

English is not my first language so please be kind, I always try to do my best, no proofreading (sorry), very little editing, I apologize for any mistakes. I'm writing on my phone, I hope the formatting isn't too bad 🥲

Thank you so much to anyone who will read this, I really hope you’ll like it, kind comments and advices are really appreciated ❤️

I've been listening to Hozier's "Talk" heavily while writing this so here it is, I'll let you know. It's such a beautiful song and I love Hozier so much 🫠

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

You wake up struck by a ray of sunlight that enters faintly through the half-closed shutters and dies right on your face.

You have no idea what time it is and your head feels heavy and confused, you turn over in bed thinking that maybe you can give yourself another 5 minutes but then you hear voices outside already awake and ringing and then you think that maybe it's really late. You sit up and retrieve the clock from the bedside table, it's 7 in the morning.

You get up and go to the kitchen to make some coffee and from the window you see some people already busy doing their work. Some children head towards the building designated as school in Jackson, happily laughing while they chase each others.

You yawn and open the cabinet in the kitchen where you keep the coffee filters, a precious supply recovered during an exploration that you jealously preserve.

The coffee is also the result of a find and therefore it was carefully rationed with the other members of the community.

You are grateful that it exists because this morning you really need it, last night you slept badly, continuing to toss in your sleep and always dreaming of the same thing again and again. You being swallowed up by a hole in the ground and no hand reaching out to help you. Just a great dream.

The coffee maker burbles a few minutes later, releasing the drink you crave.

Temperatures are milder in this season so you no longer need to put on a heavy jacket and snow boots, there is a bit of fresh wind but nothing compared to the harsh winter that has just passed.

Today in particular you feel like dressing better than usual, you go back to your room and open the wardrobe, carefully inspecting the few clothes hanging there.

You obviously don't have much choice because they're all salvaged second-hand clothes, but Maria gave you a nice pair of denim shorts a month ago and they look very nice on you.

You take it out of the closet and place it on the bed along with a white tank top that highlights your boobs just right, it’s nothing particularly fancy but it makes you feel good, you head towards the shower humming softly.

The shower helps you wake up, you dress and you leave the house feeling a bit better.

You meet a couple of people who greet you as you make your way to the library.

You enter, smelling the familiar smell of books and immediately get to work cleaning and dusting the shelves and the floor, like every day.

The morning passes peacefully, only a couple of people come in to borrow books, so after doing your chores you took the opportunity to rearrange thriller’s books section.

You're a bit shocked by the fact that no one told you anything particular but you don't mind, these people have a lot to think about and a lot to do.

When you leave it's lunch time, so you head to the common room.

The crisp air caresses your face and the sun gives you a little warmth that you missed so much, you really love this season in Jackson.

You enter the room filled with chatter that echoes off the walls. You take your place in line and once you have had your portion you sit at one of the tables.

No one reaches you yet. You're alone in a room full of people.

You see him in a corner, sitting with Maria and Tommy and you get lost for a while observing the way he moves his large hands, how his hair rests at the base of his neck, his big brown eyes, so communicative, the way his flannel shirt - which has practically become a distinctive trait of Joel - hug his muscles, the way his lower lip slightly twitch while he’s talking.

You’re totally captivated.

You can't help it and you know it.

Every time he spoke to you, even for just a few minutes, your body reacted unequivocally at his deep low raspy voice, his proximity always caused you trouble.

You like this man, much more than you are willing to admit.

Joel Miller.

You're friends, you might say. As much as it is possible to be friends with a man like him.

He's friendly, but always with an undertone of detachment that you can't define, as if he's afraid of letting himself go with someone and let his feelings flow freely.

And just as you're thinking this, he turns and looks at you for a moment.

You are sitting, yet your knees feel weak and you feel your cheeks redden knowing you've been caught.

You turn your eyes back to your lunch, quickly finishing your meal and bringing your tray back. You leave the common room feeling in a bubble.

It's stupid that he makes you feel like a little girl with her first crush but it always happens, by now you're resigned to always making a fool of yourself with him.

You walk home to do your household chores and then go to the patch of garden you've been assigned to take care of.

You meet various people along the way but again everyone just say hello, you see Ellie with Dina and they both wave at you and nothing more. In the meantime, Maria has left the common room and the only thing she asks you is how the courgettes you planted a month ago are coming along.

It's strange, but you shrug your shoulders and think that deep down today is not such a relevant day for others even if you hoped it would be because you now consider these people as your new family.

You stop thinking about it and focus on the things you have to do but a tiny piece of your heart hurts a little, just a little.

What the hell is wrong with people today? Only a month ago they throw a big party for Tommy and now nothing, not even a hint.

Okay, Tommy is higher rank, he is married to Maria, everyone sees him as a guide just as they see his partner.

And he goes on patrols, certainly offering others a greater sense of security and protection, unlike you who deal with less dangerous things.

That's probably why, you're just a minion in Jackson's pecking order.

You let off some steam by plowing your field with more force than necessary, small drops of sweat slide down your forehead and you end up hot and with your arms aching from the effort.

Stupid girl, stop thinking about it, it's not that important to have a birthday, not in a post apocalyptic world where everyone is struggling to get ahead.

But still, they acknowledged every single special day of everyone’s here before, except yours and nothing particularly relevant is happening, it’s been a couple of quiet weeks.

You're wiping sweat from your forehead with one hand when you hear a voice behind you.

"What are you doing tonight?" It's his voice, you'd recognize his among a thousand.

You turn around stuttering “uh, what?”

And there he is, flannel shirt, curls slightly blowing in the wind, mouth curved in a smirk, dark piercing eyes.

Fuck.

“I asked…what are you doing tonight?”

You feel the nervousness rising in your chest, it's the first time he's spoken to you in a week and you weren't ready in the slightest.

“Uh…oh…nothing special, I guess, I think I'll read a book and go to sleep early”

you say trying to maintain a certain apparent nonchalance.

“You didn't mention dinner, are you going to fast?” Oh, great. Sarcastic jokes, classic Miller behavior.

“No, of course not,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles “okay, so, would you like to come to my house? I cook”

Fuck. Is that, a date?

You instantly feel your mouth dry as you try to reply “Well, it’s not like I have something better to do so yes, why not”

You don't want to make it obvious to this man how he makes you feel. There are worse things to worry about in this world, but letting yourself go with someone who always shows restraint only to be rejected - on your birthday, no less - doesn't seem as pleasant.

And that's how you usually communicate anyway, bickering.

Maria often laughs about it, you are both stubborn and neither of you ever wants to agree with the other.

One day she told you that she thinks you'll end up together and you practically laughed in her face. Not because you don't want to, but because you thought Joel didn't even see you that way.

Maybe Maria was right all along, who knows.

“Good, see you at 7”

And he goes.

You watch him walk away for a while, still with spade in your hands.

Suddenly this day became interesting.

You run into the house and take off your dirty clothes throwing them in the basket you keep in the bathroom and go to the shower.

While you're soaping yourself up you wonder what came into his mind.

As you rub your hair, you think that maybe he's making fun of you but Joel doesn't seem like the type to make a prank, he's always quite sarcastic but not a proper prankster.

It's part of his charm, he always looks grumpy but you know he's not bad, the way he looks at Ellie or his brother says everything about him.

He would do anything for the people he loves.

And he’s not mean, he was kind to you too.

You've spent more time looking at him, analyzing every chat you had with him than you like to admit, so yeah, you're pretty sure he's okay.

Once you get out of the shower you open the wardrobe and find yourself contemplating the usual clothes with which you have to make the best of things.

There is a cute dress that you have never worn because you have never found a particular occasion. It's quite short and low-cut, definitely not suited to Jackson's lifestyle, here everyone wears jeans and sweaters or t-shirts.

You think that maybe tonight is the time to dare even if you don't want him to burst out laughing and ask you what you've got in your head.

It's just a dinner.

He never mentioned anything romantic.

You're obviously nervous, because you like him and if it doesn't go well you should continue to see him every day anyway.

In the end you decide to wear the dress anyway but to tone it down with a cardigan and a pair of boots, so as to make it look less like "please fuck me" style.

You shake your head, how much trouble are you going to for Joel Miller.

However, you have to admit that it's the first really exciting thing that's happened to you since you've been here. You thought that surviving was enough so you obviously never complained about it.

You fix your hair after drying it, you look at yourself in the mirror and you think that you're not that bad after all.

It's almost time, you leave the house and walk the few meters that separate you from Joel's house with your heart beating wildly in your chest.

You climb the few steps to his porch feeling insecure and stupid for accepting, who knows what you expect from this lonely man.

You shrug and knock on the door, snuggling into your cardigan in the cool evening air.

You consider going back and pretending you had a mishap, but Joel opens the door.

“Hey, come in” he smiles at you. You cross the threshold timidly as a delicious scent invades your nostrils.

Who knew Joel Miller could cook?

You follow him into the kitchen and Joel pours you a glass of wine.

“Where did you find this?” you ask in surprise. Wine is a luxury that you haven't been able to afford many times in Jackson, usually the only thing they bring back after searches and patrols are bottles of cheap whiskey.

“I found it two km from here in an abandoned shop. It was stuck under a shelf, probably for years”

“Oh, great”

“Well they say that aged wines are better. Like men, don't you agree?” He smiles, winking at you.

He winked.

Fuck.

You try to hide your surprise by taking a long sip from your glass.

While Joel is busy checking on the stew you take a look around the living room.

It's a nice house, simply furnished like all the houses in Jackson, tidy and clean.

There are some sheets with drawings on the coffee table in front of the couch. You know Joel made them because you've seen him several times on his porch busy drawing animals. A squirrel, a deer, a small bird. He's really good at it.

And obviously his guitar, resting on a stand in a corner near the couch.

In a totally cheesy way you would love to hear him play something for you.

“So, do you like wine?”

You turn and see that he is a few steps away from you, glass in hand.

“Uhm, yeah, it’s good”

He gives you a smile “stew is almost ready”

“Can I help you with something?”

“No, don’t worry, you’re the guest”

You see him linger with his gaze on your legs and up to your breasts and you think that the dress wasn't such a bad idea after all.

He is wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans and is breathtaking.

You scan each other for a few seconds, without speaking. You are like two predators sniffing each other to see who will give in first.

“That dress looks good on you” he finally says and for the first time you notice that he is slightly embarrassed. He looks down at his glass and stares at it harder than necessary.

You still don't know why he invited you tonight but honestly at this point you don't even care. He's more handsome than ever, his hair still slightly damp from the shower and pulled back, that little scar on his cheek that you'd be eager to find out the story of, that smile he's giving you and his hands nervously gripping the glass, everything about him draws you in like a magnet.

"Thank you. You're not bad either." You giggle and you know that it’s definitely what you needed tonight. To feel attractive. To feel seen.

He comes back to the kitchen and after a few seconds he calls you “Dinner’s ready”

You sit at the table in the kitchen and he places a plate in front of you that smells of home, of memories and takes you back to when you were little and your mom cooked for you.

It's like Proust's madeleine.

Evoking sweet feelings with food is one of your favorite things to remember who you were, who you loved, and what was before this debacle.

It's melancholy but also comfort in a certain way, it's like holding on to the truest and most authentic part of you, the one that made you who you are today and probably allowed you to survive.

You take a bite as Joel looks at you in anticipation.

“Wow, this is good!” you exclaim “extremely good. Who knew that you were a chef”

“Ha! I’m really not, it’s just a stew and I’ve done it so many time that I can’t get it wrong at this point”

“It's still the best I've had in years, I need to get invited to dinner more often”

You chuckle and then you blush, because you've made it clear that you hope it's the first of many times.

Damn you.

You hadn't had a love interest in years, obviously, there wasn't time to think about that while the world burned and you had to fight to stay alive. But here, in this little bubble, where people have welcomed you and you have recovered crumbs of normality, it doesn't seem too stupid to feel something for Joel.

Is he grumpy? Sometimes. But he is also incredibly generous, to be honest. When you asked him, a formal contractor, to help you create the library he snorted, he told you that it wasn't necessary, that no one would ever go there anyway.

You shrugged and said that you would have done it anyway with or without his help, Maria had already given you permission.

The next morning you got up early to go and clean up the designated building and found him there, he was repairing a damaged window that wouldn't go up or down.

He grumbled when you asked him ironically what he was doing “someone has to stop you from opening a crumbling library”

You smiled, feeling your heart warm.

And so it was every day until the place was ready. Joel showed up early in the morning or in the evening, spent a few hours fixing the steps, eradicating moths, building shelves and cabinets, even a desk for you.

You've never talked in depth about your lives but you still know something you've heard through the grapevine. He's very secretive about his past so you never asked him any uncomfortable questions, the last thing you would want is for him to never share anything with you again.

The time he helped you with the library was the most enjoyable time you've had here so far and that's when you realized that your crush was more serious than expected.

“Do you want another glass of wine?”

“Why not, i don’t have to drive home”

He laughs “Yeah, no fines for you”

“At most a headache, but I'll think about that in the morning”

“Were you surprised when I invited you?”

he leaves you speechless for a moment and then you find, you don't know how, the strength to use irony, like you always do "I've known for a long time that you want me" you giggle and brush your hair away from your face while you say it.

"Oh yes? How strange, I actually thought it was the opposite” the smirk and the deep chuckle he gives to you goes straight to the most private part of you. Right there. It sits on your clit and you feel it tingling.

Fuck, this man.

You never experienced a flirty Joel Miller before and you were actually quite sure he wasn’t even capable of being so but he is.

“Oh shut up, finish eating” you scoff, feeling your cheeks turn on fire.

He lets go for a while and watches you amusedly fill your mouth with his stew.

“It's a pleasure to see you eat, little finch”

He started calling you that when you couldn't move the furniture in the library on your own. "I don't know how you thought you could manage on your own, little finch."

At first you hated it, now you pretend to hate it but you actually like it.

“Stop calling me that!” you still have to keep up a facade after all.

“Oh come on, finch is the cutest bird, don’t be offended”

“I’m no bird” you pout.

“Yep you are, finch. Delicate. Elegant. Pretty. You walk like you’re floating in the light air and your voice is a lovely chirping sound. It gets on my nerves sometimes, but I actually like it. A lot.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You can't believe he said that.

You feel your heart melt like snow under the sun, your lips involuntarily curl into a smile, your hands tremble with the desire to touching him and between your legs a lustful heat invades you all over.

His face is relaxed, his eyes sparkle mischievously and his smile…his smile pins you to the chair.

You raise your glass in an attempt to drink some courage while he doesn't stop looking at you silently.

Just enough time to bring your lips close to the glass and you find yourself coughing, you're too distracted and the wine goes sideways.

Obviously.

You can't help but look like a fool in front of him, you don't even know how he thinks you're elegant.

“Jesus, are you okay?” he asks in alarm as he reaches up to wrap his arm around your back and pat you lightly.

To your surprise, his large, calloused hands can be very gentle.

“Oh my god, yes, yes I’m okay” you reply between coughs "I'll get over it now"

Now that he knows that you will survive he sits back down to his chair and scrutinizes you with an amused expression.

“Did I go too hard on you?”

“What? No, not all” you reply red-faced, while trying to regain some composure.

“Okay, if you say so” he places a hand on yours gripping the table “Has it passed?”

“Yeah, I think it is” You pour a little water into the other glass he has set and drink, this time slowly.

Finally you feel your breathing return to regularity and your cough gradually subside.“Thank goodness, little finch, think if I should have taken you to the doctor in that lovely dress” and laughs.

You've never seen him laugh so much.

He is intelligible most of the time but tonight he is an open book.

“What's wrong with this dress, Miller?” you ask, ironically, you may be clumsy but not to this point and you want to try to get back at him.

"Nothing. You don't see many of them in Jackson, that's all."

“It doesn't look like anything special to me,” you say, as you realize he's staring insistently at your tits. “Do you see anything special, Miller?”

He shrugs “It’s pretty low cut for nothing”

You bend over slightly, resting your forearms on the table smiling at him, exposing your boobs even more. He is sitting in front of you and still watching at them.

“You're pretty good at it after all, little finch” his eyes have become darker and it's as if a small flame is burning inside them.

You feel a certain pride rising in your chest.

“Now you look like the embarrassed one, Miller, have you seen how things have changed?” Your smirk doesn't go unnoticed by Joel who squirms in his seat as if it has suddenly become uncomfortable.

"Can you tell me something? Why did you invite me tonight?” you’re pushing him, and you know it. And actually, you like it, for once you feel like you have the upper hand.

“Isn't it obvious, finch?” he mutter.

“Maybe, but I'd like to hear it from you. Use your words, Miller, I know you can."

“When you asked me to help you to arrange the library I thought you were crazy. Then I realized I was wrong. It was a nice idea. It was a great idea actually. No one here can go anywhere anymore, and in any case there is nowhere you can go so it is comforting to know that there is always a way to take refuge elsewhere, at least for a few hours, reading a great book. So yes, finch, I like you. I like you because you gave us back some beauty.”

“Fuck Miller, you can make speeches whenever you want”

“It's just one of the reasons I like you, you’re also smart and thoughtful and gorgeous but yeah, that’s it, I’ve said it”

His gaze is languid, you'd almost say longing. Maybe you managed to scratch a small piece of the invisible armor he built to protect himself.

One moment you were bickering as usual and the next Joel fucking Miller left you speechless.

No sarcasm, not an ounce of irony, he sounds sensitive and vulnerable.

It's so strange to see him in this light, the only other time it happened to you you were in the library, he found a children's book and held it in his hands looking at it in silence.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes, he looked helpless and hurt and then it was the usual Joel, complaining about the mess and the weight of the boxes you had made him lift that gave nightmares to his back.

You get up from the chair without even realizing it, as if it were an involuntary movement that your body needs.

You stop in front of him, who is still sitting, his arms abandoned on the table, his gaze following you questioningly.

You put a hand in his hair and let it run through his dark curls while he instinctively closes his eyes, abandoning himself completely under your touch.

You would like to say something but you don't want to ruin the moment and in any case you can't find any words suitable to describe how you feel.

Moved, yearning, grateful, overwhelmed?

All these things together at the same time.

You let your hand linger on the base of his neck, stroking softly

“Look at me” you whisper.

And his gaze turns, his whole body turns, and you've never seen him so clearly. He rests his large hands on your hips and his gaze pierces you as he lands on yours.

You feel his grip tighten as you lean over him and leave a shy kiss on his lips. Small. Brief. And another, instinctively. And yet another.

And another until his lips part on yours and fit perfectly in a long sigh. He tastes like wine and loneliness and desire.

It’s manly but tender and demanding for more.

Your tongues meet and it's like an electric shock that surprises you but at the same time it's inevitable like when two surfaces rub together generating energy, it is an unwritten physical law that holds you together despite having used all your strength to keep each other at a distance for months.

Now, all you can do is give up.

You kiss him like it's the last thing you do in your life, his eager hands roam your hips, gripping your ass and squeezing tightly.

He part from your lips just the time to stand up and wrapping you entirely in his arms, his mouth searching for yours again, eager, his hands stroking your back while you feel just like a little finch in the most comfortable nest you could find.

“God, I want you” he mutter in your ear nuzzling at your sensitive skin.

“Take me. Just… take me, Joel”

It’s a dreadful need that you feel deep in your bone, the last shred of love you could find in this broken world, a sweet feeling of release that you desperately wanted.

You can’t think straight and don’t want to.

He take off your cardigan and reaches for the hem of your dress and lifts it up roaming your thighs feverishly, squeezing and stroking, his fingers digging into your flesh as you moan softly into his ear. He pulls it up to your waist and you help slide it off your head.

He bends down to take off your boots and throws them on the floor in an unspecified place, then he gets up and takes you back in his arms. He's still dressed while you're almost naked and exposed in a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra. You might be intimidated but you're not. You let yourself be held and explored by his hands. His calloused fingers, rough but gentle, touch you everywhere, giving you goosebumps. He lifts a hand to one of your breast and squeezes it through the fabric.

You can't help but let out a muffled moan while he is filling his hand with your flesh.

“Do you like it, finch? Me squeezing your boob?” he says in a whisper, looking into your eyes.

“Y-yes” you mumble “give me more”

There's a smug, lecherous smile painted on his face as he reaches for your bra and unclasps it with a single gesture.

He slides it off and drops it on the kitchen floor. Your nipples stiffen in an instant, hit by the air, he takes one between his fingers and pinches it, pulling it gently and then his mouth is on it swirling his tongue and sucking it. You squirm at the sensation, digging your hand into his hair again, pushing his face into your breast “more, more” you stammer. You feel his smile spread across your skin and his teeth bite lightly into you.

“You’re ravenous, aren’t you?”

You pull his hair and tilt his face slightly to regain eye contact. “Do you mind?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“Good, you can continue doing what you were doing” you smile defiantly. You like to provoke him, especially now.

“You're bossy for a little finch, I like that”

he smiles back, his eyes shining bright with thrill and anticipation.

He returns to greedily licking and sucking like a thirsty man on your nipples, another loud moan escape from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good”

“I just started with you, you have no idea what awaits you” he whispers.

“Mmm then less talking, Miller, show me”

Without having to be told twice, he picks you up, much to your surprise, and places you on his couch in the living room.

“Woah, Miller, easy”

“You told me not to waste time talking” he shrugs. chuckling.

He pulls you to the edge of the couch “spread your legs”

You open your legs a little but he is visibly not satisfied, he takes your knees and opens them more "Like this. Now stay still” he orders.

He kneels between your thighs and pulls your panties aside.

You feel his fingers trail up your thigh, slowly, taking the time to slide lightly over your skin, causing you a mixture of tickling and excitement.

You writhe when you feel his index finger grazing your pussy lips, wandering up and down caressing for a little bit before sliding it between them and wetting it completely in your juices.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”

You can literally feel your cunt dripping when he keeps going up and down, briefly sinking into your hole with the tip of his finger and then on your clit, moving in circle with two fingers over your bundle of nerves.

You’re whining again, you’re growing impatient and he perfectly knows that

“Joel…”

“Yes, Finch?”

“You're doing it again”

“What”

“You know what. Do you want to torture me?”

"No. I just want you to beg me."

“God, you’re impossible” you roll your eyes out of exhaustion and arousal.

He stops completely.

“So are you, babe. Can you please let me do what I know best?”

He presses on your clit with two fingers and you squirm.

“Fuck. Okay”

He starts teasing your clit again, moving his fingers up and down to gather your wetness and spread it all over your lips.

“The thing is, finch, your pussy is so good. Look at her, I can’t rush it. She deserves to be loved nicely and slowly”

He is sitting on his heels just taking his time with you and you can’t be more eager to have him in your hole but you breath, resigned to wait for his pace.

He teases your entrance again, this time with two fingers, pushing in a little deeper.

His thumb is still taking care of your clit, moving a little faster than before.

“Eyes on me, babe”

And you do, you lock your eyes with his and you see hunger and lust and wonder.

He’s admiring you and you feel flattered.

He brings his face closer and sticks his tongue out, licking you from bottom to top and then again, letting it slide between your lips.

His beard is scratching you, his tongue stops on your clit swirling around it, jerking it slowly, again and again until you see him closing his lips on it and sucking gently.

He’s devouring you at this point and you mewl and cry and scream for more.

“Jesus - fuck - oh my goodness”

Your fingers are entwined into his curls and you’re pushing his face against you as much as you can, his tongue is fucking your hole now, he delves into you and lick all he can and you start to feel an incredible warmth rising from your core, in your tummy, to your chest.

He finally lets his index and middle finger sliding into you, pumping slowly in and out of your dripping wet cunt.

“Joel, oh my God I - ha! - I can’t, oh God”

“Yes, you can. Just like that, baby, give it to me” he whispers softly against your skin.

You’re on the verge of coming, the most incredible orgasm is knocking at your senses, overwhelming and brutally crushing into you.

“I’m com - oh GOD - yes,Joel, fuck”

He praises you again “come for me, soak my fingers, come on”

And you do. You gush all over his fingers like it was the last thing you do in the world, your legs shake and your heart reach an impossible pace that leaves you breathless.

He keeps licking and pumping into you until you calm and you can’t take your eyes off him bowed between your thighs, he drives you wild.

He stands up grunting at his poor knees and you giggle, he raises an eyebrow at you

“I wouldn't laugh considering the fact that I just made you scream my name”

He sits down on the couch next to you, circling your waist with his big strong arm and pushing you against him.

You bury your face in his chest “Aw, you’re so touchy, Miller” and you giggle again.

“You’re such a little brat.” He says, stroking your hair “But see? I wasn’t lying. It's been many years since I last did this but I still know what to do”

You raise your eyes at him “yeah, I give you that. You’re fucking good” and you place a kiss on the hairless part of his beard “but I-”

“What?” he interrupts you, looking at you maliciously

You bite your lower lip, feeling hot again just for the way he’s holding you tightly watching you with lust in his eyes.

“I want your cock”

“Oh. It’s time to beg, baby”

“Joel…”

“Beg for it, little finch” he’s smiling but his voice is firm and slightly authoritative

“I never beg” you scoff

“You will start now, sweetie, if you want to see me naked”

You look at him with exasperation, rolling your eyes immediately after “okay, Jesus. Can you please give me your cock?”

“Manners, babe. Ask gently”

You ask yourself what have you done wrong to fall for such an unbearable man “Good Lord”

“Beg with conviction”

“Joel Miller, could you do me the courtesy of fucking me? Please?”

You’re smirking hard. You definitely love to get on his nerves.

“You’re getting into trouble with this attitude, you know that?” He reaches one of your nipples and pinches it hard making you whimper into his arms.

You turn serious, looking him in the eyes intensely, licking your lip before saying “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Mmm yes, just like that baby, it didn't take much”

He finally stands up in front of you. He takes off his shirt, revealing a strong, broad chest.

You can see a thin strip of hair disappearing under his jeans but apart from that he is almost hairless, his skin is delightfully dotted with freckles that make your mouth water.

He throws off his shirt and bends over to remove his boots.

Your eyes linger on his back, on his tense, rippling muscles, you can't believe how gorgeous he is, after all you think it was worth begging for this but you will never tell him.

He unzips his jeans and takes them off, remaining in his boxers. The sight of his deliciously soft tummy drives you completely insane. You’re craving him like you never did with anyone before.

“Kneel on the couch for me, baby” he orders and you immediately do, you turn your head just in time to see him taking off his boxers, freeing his already hard and swollen cock. Your knees sink into the pillows and your hands rest on the armrest, you are completely exposed to his will.

He gets behind you on his knees, gripping your hips and pulling you towards him.

“Fuck me Joel, please, fuck me now” you cry

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock like that. You learn quickly, little finch”

You only feel the tip poking at your entrance, he slides his cock against your dripping folds “Beg once more, babe”

You writhe, it’s more than you can take right now, you want him desperately.

“Please, Joel. Please” your voice sounds distraught but you don’t care, not now.

He enters you with a single thrust that makes you scream “Fuck!”

He’s big, so big that his cock burns in your center.

“I told you you were getting into trouble, baby, if you wanted me to be gentle you should have behaved better”

It's a small punishment you can bear, after a few seconds you already got used to his intrusion, you never felt so full before and right now you couldn’t ask for anything better.

He begins to move slowly, in and out of you, sinking deeper each time and reaching that spot that makes you see stars.

His loud grunts numb your head, his fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts into you, maybe he will leave some marks and the thought excite you even more.

“Oh God, please don’t stop, please”

He’s pounding into you incessantly, every thrust more deep leaving you short breath, you’re so wet that every lewd sounds coming from your cunt is making you feel like you’re on the brink of falling apart.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like that, babe, the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, so perfect for me”

You whine even more at his praises, feeling your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

“Joel please I’m-”

“I know baby, I know, I can feel you, squeezing my cock just right, God you’re taking me so good”

You basically spasm on his cock right now, legs trembling as your sink your fingers in the fabric of the couch desperately trying to hold your posture.

He holds you tightly by your hips, grunting with each thrust into you, hitting your cervix again and again.

“Come for me baby, come all over my cock”

You’re quivering so hard that you almost think of being on the verge of losing your mind.

You cry his name feeling so full and dazed while your orgasm explodes inside you.

He pumps into you until you calm down but he’s still throbbing against your walls “Where do you want me?”

“On my tits - please”

He comes out of you and you lie down on his couch, his throbbing cock is in front of you, he takes it in his hand, milking it a couple of time before releasing his cum all over you. He moans loudly as he paints your tits and chest with his pleasure.

He lies down on top of you, groaning “God, this was amazing”

You feel his sticky seed spreading on your skin but you don't care, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly.

He moves to the side so as not to weigh you down and takes you in his arms again.

You hide your face for a moment in the crook of his neck, inhaling his woody, citrusy perfume, with a hint of the natural sweaty scent of his skin. He smells amazingly.

“I could get used to it” you giggle

“Me too, little finch” and he leaves a kiss on your hair.

“Oh, you made completely forgot about it, do you know what day it is today?”

“No, should I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s my birthday.”

His eyes widen, “Really?”

“Yep”

“Well then happy birthday. Did you like your present?”

“It’s the best I’ve ever received”

You kiss him again, knowing how true it is.

“We should take a shower,” he laughs.

“Yeah, you’re… well…all over me…but to be honest, I like it.”

He smiles widely “Come on little finch, I might have another gift for you in the bathroom”

“Oh, then I can’t wait to unwrap it”

[bunnis-monsters]

Good morning, I hope you're doing well.

I've been a shy onlooker of your work for quite some time, however as of recently I've been noticing with a couple of the bee-hybrid ficlets that you've been writing, one or two of them that involved (specifically) child/infant characters were tagged with the 'monster fucker' and various such related tags..?

I love the bee stuff, I do! Please don't take this as a hate message because I really don't mean for it to come off as such. But if you're going to include infant/child characters under the age of 18 in your fics, please don't include them in NSFW scenarios, fics, or situations or put them in NSFW tags. I don't think that's entirely legal in some places and I say that out of the goodness of my heart for your protection and your readers.

There was a woman banned off Youtube who was criminally charged for breastfeeding her child and uploading it and I know this is in no way as severe but I honestly don't want to see you get banned and all your fics wiped off tumblr because you put 'minor characters' in NSFW situations/tags. :(

You could try maybe just not tagging the stuff with baby bees?? You have a huge follow base and a discord (that i'm too shy to join) so I'm sure people would still find that content if they're following you.

I'm sorry for bothering you, I hope you have a good day.

Uh.

I tag all of my fics as monster fucking… because that’s the genre. The baby bees are a result of said monster fucking.

I specifically use monster fucking on all of my posts so people who don’t like the monster fucking genre can easily filter my posts out.

I do not include any smut tags like I do on my other posts, and SPECIFICALLY tag them as “monster sfw” or “monster fluff” when I remember.

Not only have I never sexualized or plan on sexualizing the baby bees, if you or anyone else sees anything regarding them as sexual… idk what to say. They’re the most innocent posts on my page.

Read my REQUEST INFO so you can understand that I do not write for pedophilic relationships or situations. The baby bees are children.

I think you’re reading a bit into it. I’m not sure about that case of a YouTuber being banned for breast feeding, but that’s a real person with real children. These are fanfics. There could have been more behind that, and I know for sure there are cases where parents exploit their children on the internet in ways that are in the grey area, like for example, breastfeeding them and sexualizing it purposefully(breastfeeding isn’t inherently sexual, but it can be sexualized and sold as such to an audience) or having them do things that are suggestive for their pedophile audience to continue using them as a cash cow.

This is not that. The baby bees are fictional, and not once have they been sexualized. I am not interested in doing so. They’ll still be under the monster fucker tag because the baby bees are tied to the bee hybrids which ARE very NSFW. It’s a genre.

I use tags that relate to my post and can help them be easily filtered by those that DON’T want to see my content.

Never ask something like this again, it made me deeply uncomfortable.

[inkedberries]

Hey! Prefacing this by saying that this isn't meant to be an attack (which generally isn't a great way to start a message but I'd rather be clear about intentions) and more so genuine curiosity. Apologizing in advance for this being long; I have a tendency to overthink and overexplain.

I don't typically interact with fandom outside of like... carefully curated little microbiomes. As such I haven't really encountered the whole proship/anti shit with any amount of seriousness since probably around 2018. I personally don't put much stock into either of the terms because there's far too much grey area and for the fact that (as per my understanding) exist as ethical frameworks, and I don't care much for subscribing purely to a single framework to the exclusion of anything else in terms of personal ethics and morality. At most with friends we tend to colloquially refer to incest + pedophile ships as proships, because that's just sort-of what the term has evolved to mean most strongly (again, at least in the circles I run in). I don't consider myself anti or proship or whatever the fuck else, because I generally don't care to involve myself with that kind of fandom drama. I'll involve myself over like, matters of being anti-bigotry but the rest is just something I haven't wanted to deal with for 5-6 years. Tagging + filtering + block functions exist for a reason, and I don't need to do anything more than prevent my feed from showing me those things. I generally just hit block and move on with that kind of stuff, especially because I'm anti-censorship for a variety of reasons.

Tl;dr on that: proship/anti aren't terms I really use or subscribe to, because I feel like they oversimplify everything and conflate "drama". From my understanding, I agree with proship ideology (????) in the sense that I believe censorship only fucks over everyone, and that you can just block + filter and move on. But at the same time I see this overall conception that 'proship' means you support/condone/etc incest and pedophilia and so on, which I really truly don't. But there is this really heavy perception that proship = this person ships (usually) pedophilic or incestuous relationships. A bit reinforced for me typically because when something like that comes across my feed and I go to block the person, they generally have 'proship' in their bio. That to acknowledge that I do have some bias in that, even if I know it's a correlation/not cause thing. That all being (over)said (and I'm SO sorry again about how fucking long this is, my twitter TL is having a meltdown and I've avoided all this stuff for so long I don't know if I'm missing something? Because ethically on my end there's no reason for me to block or whatever outside of just the word proship...? Two minutes for a quick search as as far as I can tell you don't participate in anything against my own comfort/moral beliefs. so) I guess I'm asking what your definition of proship is for yourself and why people are jumping to this conclusion of dislike so instantaneously? Obviously you're under no obligation to educate me on what I presume is fucking YEARS of fandom history, nor respond publicly or even at all. I'm only asking you specifically because this is the first time I've encountered 'being proship' ≠ shipping pedophilia etc etc. I think maybe I came across it way back when as a middle schooler, but I'm not about to trust any of my opinions/recollections from when I was that age lmao. But anyways. Just genuinely curious and wanting to understand because I'm wary of reacting too-quickly just because other people are, and especially so if it's actually a total non-issue for me. Sorry again for the insane rambling in this lol

hello!! i hope you don't mind me prefacing this response too by saying to please read this out fully, if you don't agree with the starting points i've provided, i hope you still continue on reading until the end💙 i think @/frownyalfred best words the defense i would most likely stumble on if i give it a go at answering your question with my own words

and this was a post made in 2016 (where a lot of ppl say is the year anti-shippers started sprouting up) and this is honestly what i mean when i say i hate antis

if anything, antis just started the propaganda that all proshippers are incest lovers and pedophiles and people ate it up like cats who haven't had wet food in three weeks. as proven by your friend group using the term as such? that's wild to me that ppl use the term proship like that, i hope the case i'm making will change that for you and your friend group.

no, proship literally is anti-censorship. ship and let ship. antis gatekeep, police shippers and harass anyone who doesn't ship their ship the RIGHT way. and it's not just the ships you say are 'harmful' or 'immoral'. i've shipped a rarepair before and the fandom at large did not like me shipping a rarepair so they started calling me a pedophile bc i aged up said characters???????? they'll find anything and i mean ANYTHING to twist everything i say and do to make it seem like it's "okay" for me to be harassed and bullied. "oh it's okay that i'm telling this person to die because they're gross," yeah no that behavior is So Much More Normal than a person shipping two fictional characters the "wrong" way. AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUCKED UP? ppl BELIEVED THEM LMAOOOO

and hey no sweat, i was like you once. i didn't define myself as proship or anti bc the real world exists but then in the one space i thought i'd be free from real life speculation and surveillance i get these anti policing assholes so yeah im a proshipper now lol just to get away from that bs. i honestly just want to have fun on here without judgement but i can't even have that lol that's why im all about blocking/muting.

you say your tl is having a meltdown? well shit, they're probably calling me names on there too. probably throwing out baseless accusations without fact checking bc i'm lowlife enough not be respected or given the decency of a fact check? or saying my art wasn't good anyway? bc gatekeeping their precious kudoichi is so much more righteous, top priority that they start slandering a real life person, right? no no no one disgusting should be touching or shipping our precious kudoichi lmao i hope you see how Not Right this is. kinda makes me feel sick for real lol

and i hope you understand how harmful this is not just to my mental state but my livelihood as an artist as these people would just start policing their fellow fans and just tell them not to support or view my art because im a 'proshipper' not even that, they'd probably just straight up say i support incest and pedophilia which are?????? such STRONG accusations to make????????? now they're just buzzwords. BUZZWORDS for antis to use to defame and cancel an artist! a real life person. over their precious fictional characters. over their precious kudoichi. oh man it makes it so much more stupid if i specify the ship, what is wrong with people sometimes😭

but hey im all about blocking and muting and unfollowing if you don't like my stuff i'm 100% for that but i hope they do it on their own terms. their own thinking. not because someone told them to.

and i dunno man that behavior of not even letting their 'friends' think for themselves, that they'd bash them too if they support me, my art, kinda seems like grooming don't it? or nah no im just looking into it. it might not be that deep. but i really yeah that's why i hate antis and why im more proship.

but hey i appreciate you even taking the time to come to me in the first place and uhhh idk i hope you found what you were looking for and that i answered your bit of curiousity there!

[kmomof4]

Return to Me: A New Fic for CSSNS24

Here is my second fic for the final @cssns!!

Ohhhhhh, I am SO EXCITED to share this fic with you!! I have to tell y'all, I thought I had an idea of what the original Dracula story looked like, and that idea is what inspired this fic. But turns out, I had no idea what Dracula was really about, which shouldn't have surprised me since I've never read the book nor seen any Dracula movie. Too much of a wimp... But anyway, that idea is where this fic came from, even if the idea bore almost no resemblance to the original story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

@snowbellewells and @hollyethecurious deserve all the love and long distance internet hugs for their beta work on this fic. They both had suggestions and insights that made it so much better!!! Thank you so much, ladies!!!

@motherkatereloyshipper did her magic AGAIN on the artwork!! Isn't it gorgeous? Please give her ALL the love!!!

Summary: Vampire Killian Jones has been waiting for his bride to return to him for 250yrs, and now that she has, there are a couple of obstacles that must be overcome before they can truly be together. Will they succeed?

*Spoiler Alert*

Of course they will. Happy endings are ALWAYS guaranteed with me...

Words: 7300

Rating: M for violence and smut

Tags: CSSNS24, Vampires, Reincarnation, TLK, Happy Ending, Temporary Major Character Death

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Return to Me

Queen Emma stood at the window in the highest tower of the castle she called home and watched as her love led their army away to fight King Malcolm - the despot of a cobbled together kingdom some leagues away, who’d now turned his sights on adding her husband’s small kingdom to his dominion. 

She had no doubt that Killian would ultimately emerge victorious, but she couldn’t help the dread that squeezed her heart as she watched him march away, leading his men into battle. Their kingdom was small but prosperous, their people strong, loyal, and eager to defend their homeland and their Sovereign from the aggression of a very well-known and universally hated tyrant. The people of Malcolm’s kingdom were little more than slaves to his oppression, with no real strength or motivation, other than fear, to conquer strong and well-defended lands. 

There was nothing she could do but hope and pray for his safe return to her, so she turned away from the window and prepared herself for the day ahead. She was no stranger to duty and was ready to fulfill hers while her beloved was away. It was important for the remaining people in her kingdom to see and to know that their welfare would not suffer while their Sovereign was absent. And that duty fell now to Emma alone. Just as her husband wouldn’t fail their kingdom, she would prevail in her charge as well.

Many hours later, a large hand slammed over Emma’s mouth, waking her from a sound sleep. The strangled scream that burst from her was muffled both by the offending appendage and the way she struggled within her assailant’s grasp. It was only moments before the hand was replaced with a gag that was stuffed in her mouth and a bag placed over her head. A strong arm was wrapped around her middle as she did everything she could to escape. There were several of them, as evidenced by the grasping hands trying to grab her flailing limbs. They were finally successful, and her hands and legs were bound securely as she was carried through the silent halls of the castle. The guards who should have defended their queen had obviously been dealt with when her kidnappers approached her chambers. 

They emerged into the night, evidenced by the slight breeze against her bare arms. She was unceremoniously thrown into a cage of some sort - the wooden bars solid and tearing at her exposed skin. She tried to stand in her prison as, with a jerk, they began to move, but her tied hands and feet made that impossible. She fell into a heap, tears of pain and fear filling her eyes.

Still blinded by the bag over her head - the stink of it making it difficult to draw a deep breath - Emma tried her best to keep her wits about her and not panic.

Who were these men and where were they taking her?

~*~*~

She must have fallen asleep at some point in their journey, because she was jerked into wakefulness when they came to a sudden stop. The air didn’t seem as close now as when they set out from the castle, and the sounds of many horses and low murmurs among the clanking of iron told her she was in the camp of an army. King Malcolm must have sent men to kidnap her to give him an advantage in the coming battle. She could hear her captors dismounting and coming to the door of her cage.

She positioned herself as far away from the door as she possibly could. There was blessed little hope for escape, but she wouldn’t make it easy for them. The gate of her prison was opened and, from the lurching tilt of the cage, she knew the man who’d just climbed inside was quite large. She held her breath waiting for him to put his hands on her. She suppressed a shudder of revulsion as a large hand wrapped around her bound ankles and began to pull her forward. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as his stench reached her. The moment she perceived that she was close enough, she pulled her head back and then forcefully jerked it forward, hoping beyond hope that she’d make contact with some tender part of her aggressor’s anatomy.

A sickening crunch and a howl of pain reached her ears a moment later. The hand around her ankles disappeared, and Emma began kicking her legs, trying to keep anyone else from laying their hands on her person. But her victory was short-lived. Similar to the night before, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her bodily out of the cage she’d traveled in. 

She twisted and flailed as much as she could while in her captor’s grasp, until she was put down on her feet and tied securely to some kind of post or tree. Only then was the bag over her head removed.

She blinked furiously against the bright morning sunlight that was just cresting the hill on which she stood. Once her eyes focused, she could see the army bearing the colors of her kingdom on the opposite hill, on the other side of a small valley where the two armies would presumably meet in battle. The army and her beloved were too far away to see clearly, but she now knew with certainty who had kidnapped her and also had a pretty good idea of his plans for her.

She turned her head to the side to see King Malcolm, a gloating sneer on his face. Finally seeing him in person rather than conjuring him in her mind's eye, he wasn’t nearly as impressive as the tales made him out to be. He was only slightly taller than she was - certainly not as tall as Killian - stocky, and with straight hair the color of dirt. His teeth were yellow, though the beard and mustache he sported was neatly trimmed.

He stroked his chin as he moved toward her. “It’s a shame that I’ve already bound myself to Lady Fiona,” he mused, his sneer turning lascivious as he looked her up and down. “You’d make quite a lovely bride…”

His words came to a sudden stop when Emma spit in his face. He roughly grabbed her chin in his hand and moved closer to her, his face inches from her own. He stank, like the rest of his men, and Emma was glad she’d had nothing to eat for hours, or she would surely lose it from the foulness invading her nostrils.

“Now you listen here, you draggle-tail.” The sneer was back in full force, and Emma glared with all the animosity she held in her heart for this foul coward of a man. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I want to be sure King Killian sees what happens to those who defy me.” He turned away from her, and over his shoulder she could just see the line of her kingdom’s army charging down the hill toward the valley.

They were too far. He was too far. He’d never reach her in time. A calm resolve settled about her shoulders. King Malcolm intended to kill her to punish Killian. She could see him now at the front of the army, though he was still too far to make out any details of his beloved face.

She thought back over the past weeks and months of their lives together. Killian approaching her father to arrange their marriage. The flutter in her heart and instant connection she felt with him when she saw him for the first time as she entered the church to join her life to his. After their wedding, when she was escorted to her chambers - Killian explaining that he did not expect consummation of their marriage when they’d only met a few hours ago at the altar - turning to her husband and informing him that she expected consummation and would be sharing his bed henceforth. Killian’s affectionate appellation the exchange engendered. The days, and nights, since then, the love and happiness they’d found together. 

She gasped in pain as the blade King Malcolm carried found its mark. Numbness spread through her body from the fatal wound as her lifeblood spilled to the ground below. 

She could see Killian now, far enough ahead of the main line of the army, even as darkness encroached on her vision. His scream of anguish reached her ears even as she sagged against her bonds, her strength failing her. Her vision was blurring, but she struggled to keep her eyes on him until the last possible moment. 

I love you, Killian.

Then her eyes closed and Emma knew no more.

~*~*~

Many, MANY years later

Killian awoke from his slumber at dusk, yet another long and lonely night stretched out before him. No different from every other night. He sighed, melancholy settling on his shoulders like a cloak. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this lonely existence. But when he thought of the future - the future he was waiting for, that he’d been promised - he knew he could wait forever. To the end of the world, or time. 

As he moved through the corridors of the castle, something came over him. He could smell a freshness in the air, a sense of anticipation that rivaled the longing for spring when the first crocuses and snowdrops pushed through the frozen ground.

Turning his attention to the village below his castle, he sent forth his preternatural hearing to try and locate the source of this difference in the air. The village was growing quiet as shopkeepers closed their doors, children were called inside, and families gathered around the table for the evening meal. All was as it should be. As King of this tiny kingdom, he took his duty to see to the welfare of his people seriously. Just as he had during his days of life. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary any longer.

The inn on the edge of the village drew his attention as he focused in on the newcomer who’d just entered the common room. The kingdom didn’t have visitors. Since the day his existence had changed, no one but those specifically traveling here for some reason had ever come. So this man had a reason for being here, and Killian needed to know what it was. The man’s voice had an oddly familiar huskiness to it - something about the cadence and inflection, the way he uttered the words more than the words themselves - that made Killian want - no, need - to see exactly who spoke.

With a wave of his hand, he transformed into a bat and quickly flew down to the large pine tree in the open courtyard of the inn. This particular perch would give him a good vantage point to see inside both the stables and the common room, as well as many of the private rooms inside, in case he wasn’t immediately able to put eyes on the speaker who had brought him down to the village in the first place.

He hung upside down from one of the lower boughs of the tree, peering inside the common room, when the freshness of the air he’d noticed earlier permeated his concentration causing him to turn his attention to the stables. An involuntary gasp in the form of a high pitched squeak- too high for humans to hear- left him as his eyes beheld his love for the first time in centuries.

His shock was profound as he transformed back to himself and hid in the shadows of the huge tree. Blood tears filled his eyes as they eagerly drank in everything about his Swan - his pet name for his beloved bride because of her beauty and fierceness if provoked. Long golden hair that curled slightly was gathered at the crown of her head, but still hung down to her shoulder blades. His keen eyesight could see the green of her eyes and even the dimples on her chin and on either side of her full pink mouth that he’d traced many times with his tongue in the throes of passion. It was all the time he had before she entered the common room of the inn, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Killian moved to the window, still careful to remain in the shadows, to see if she joined the man he was seeking or if she was traveling alone. She sat down at a table across from a man whose countenance tickled the edges of Killian’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place him. They were sitting close enough to the window that he had no trouble hearing their conversation.

“Neal, what is going on here?” she asked, furtively looking around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You bring me to this… place… not on any map, out in the middle of nowhere with no explanation other than you have some mission to fulfill before the wedding. This looks straight out of, I don’t know, almost Medieval times. No paved roads, or vehicles for that matter, other than carts and horses. The women are all dressed like…” She looked down and motioned vaguely at her own attire of pants tucked into tall boots and a close-fitting shirt with no evidence of a corset underneath, all covered by a red leather jacket that barely skimmed her waist. “Not like me.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s like time stood still here.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what this mission is and why we’re here.”

Just at that moment, the innkeeper approached their table holding two keys. “Dr. Cassidy, Miss Swan,” he began. Killian was shaken down to his marrow to hear his own sobriquet applied as a proper name to his reincarnated love. She looked at the innkeeper confusion furrowing her brow. 

“We’re together,” she informed him. “We just need one room.”

The innkeeper shook his head. “Separate rooms for men and women who are not married,” he informed her. “King Killian would never allow otherwise.” He left the keys on the table and withdrew just as one of the serving girls laid down plates of roasted chicken, vegetables, and fresh baked bread in front of them.

The consternation on her visage was very familiar, and Killian felt a surge of inexpressible joy that brought a wide smile to his lips. 

“Is he kidding?” she asked this Dr. Neal Cassidy. The stare she pinned him with was also very familiar, and Killian could almost feel sorry for the man as he seemed to squirm a bit under her intense gaze. “Explain. Now,” she continued. “What is this place? What are we doing here?” 

The man leaned across the table and lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard. 

“Ems,” he began, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to hear him. Too bad he didn’t know Killian stood just on the other side of the wall and could hear every word that proceeded from his lips. “The reason we’re here - the mission - is to kill…” His love’s eyes widened as Dr. Cassidy glanced around again to be sure there was still no one within earshot, “a vampire.”

Killian let out a resigned breath as full recognition flooded him. Here we go again, he thought. The reason this Dr. Cassidy sounded, and then looked, vaguely familiar to him was because he was of King Malcolm’s bloodline. The last in a long, long line of adversaries who refused to leave him in peace. 

“A… vampire?” she asked, incredulously. “But…”

“Don’t say they don’t exist,” Cassidy interrupted, his hand waving dismissively about. “I can assure you, they do. And this one has had a vendetta against my family for 250 years.” Killian could clearly see the disbelief in his love’s eyes as the man continued his impassioned explanation. “This vampire has killed every single one of my male ancestors, from my own father to my great-great-great-whatever going back to 1768. Why, I have no idea. But I didn’t want us to begin our lives together with this shadow hanging over us. So I’m here to kill him, before he comes after me. And I will succeed.”

The words took a moment to register, but once they did, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. This man, this Dr. Cassidy - descendent of Malcolm, the man who’d… - was planning to marry his Swan. He stood rooted in the shadows unable to do anything but watch and seethe in helpless fury.

“Neal…” she began, doubt and confusion in her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted, interrupting her rudely. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you wanted an explanation and you got it. Just trust me, ok?”

“Fine,” she said, though her eyes told a different story altogether. “Let’s say I trust you, and vampires are real.” The skepticism in her tone was on full display, and Killian knew she still didn’t believe Dr. Cassidy’s words. “What if you don’t kill him?” she asked. “What if he kills you, too?”

“He won’t,” he assured her, reaching across the table toward her. “We’ll attack during the day, while he’s asleep. A stake to the heart and cutting off his head will ensure his death. Then we can return home, get married, and live our lives in peace.” 

Killian ground his teeth in anger at the lies Dr. Cassidy was spinning. Why the man felt the need for deception about the history between his family - King Malcolm’s progeny - and Killian himself, he could only speculate. But the man was obviously not worthy to call his Swan his own. 

“And you know how to find him?” she asked.

Dr. Cassidy nodded and pulled out a small notebook. “This has been handed down to me from my father and from his father before him. Everything we need to know to kill the creature is right here.” He opened the book and flipped to a page with a map. “This is a map of the castle, so yes, I know exactly how to find him.” 

They finished their meal in relative silence. Once they’d satisfied their respective appetites, they each took a key and walked toward the stairs on the other side of the common room. Killian’s gaze fixed on Dr. Cassidy. He had some plans to make before he’d surely face this latest adversary come dawn.

~*~*~

Emma Swan rummaged through her duffle and pulled out her sleep shorts and tank top as she tried and failed to put Neal’s words from her mind.

Something about his explanation didn’t ring true to her. She had a sixth sense type of thing- she likened it to a superpower- but she could always tell when someone was lying to her. And as she ran back over his words about the vampire, she knew he was not telling her the truth. Not about the vampire himself, though. As unbelievable as his words were, they were not the rambling mutterings of a madman. And her superpower had been completely silent when he spoke about its existence. It was only when he spoke of the reason for the vampire’s vendetta that her intuition awoke, telling her of his deception. He had to know why, why the vampire was targeting his family. That was the only thing he said that wasn’t straight facts. For some reason though, he didn’t want her to know what the reason was.

She crawled into bed, closed her eyes, and prayed sleep would find her quickly.

It seemed only minutes later that Emma felt a feather light brush against her cheek and heard whispered words laden with tender affection.

“Emma. Emma, my Swan.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze landed on the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There was something very familiar about him, though she couldn’t say just what it was. It didn’t even occur to her to be alarmed at the presence of a strange man in her room. His hair was black as midnight and his blue eyes shone in the moonlight spilling into the room. His skin was unnaturally pale and neatly trimmed scruff the same color as his hair covered his jaw. He was tall and well built. His pants clung to the long lean muscles in his legs and he wore a dark shirt that wouldn’t look out of place on a pirate of old underneath a red brocade vest. 

“Who are you?” she asked as she sat up in the bed. “How do you know my name? What are you doing here?”

He knelt beside her bed and extended his hand toward her. She placed her hand in his, feeling inexplicably drawn toward him.

“I am Killian Jones,” he said. His voice was low and rich and it wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. “I am the Sovereign of these lands, and you are my love. I’ve waited for you for 250 years.”

“What?!” she cried, pulling her hand from his. His last words made her mind race back to what Neal had said earlier as she quickly put the pieces together. “You’re the vampire!” She couldn’t contain the horror in her voice or, she was sure, on her face. “Oh, God! You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” She could hardly believe what she was seeing, visual confirmation of Neal’s words. She pulled her legs toward her chest and scooted as close to the head of the bed as she could, trying to present as small a target as was possible. “Why me? Neal said you targeted his family! I’m not his family, yet!”

“No, my Swan,” he assured her, gentle compassion beset on his features, his hand still outstretched, her superpower as silent as could be. “I am not here to kill you. You are my bride. Returned to me. As promised.”

Bride? Returned to me? As promised? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody promised anyone anything!” she exclaimed. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she extended a hand towards him, and he gently clasped her fingers.

Love. A deep and abiding love that she’d never known swept over her as pictures filled her mind. Pictures narrated by the man kneeling before her. 

“King Malcolm demanded tribute from our small but prosperous kingdom. He was nothing but a tyrant, and I refused. Our people were loyal and strong, and I knew that we could defeat him if it came to battle. The dawn when we were to meet, our lookout ran to me with his spyglass. I opened it and trained it across the valley to where his army was mustered.” 

A gasp of profound grief filled her mind as she saw what Killian saw through the spyglass. A woman tied to a post, her face covered with a dark bag. The obvious leader of the army, King Malcolm, grabbed the bag off of the woman’s head, her long blonde hair settling about her shoulders. There wasn’t time to get a good look at her face, but the scream of anguish from Killian told her that whoever it was, was someone of great import to him. He sounded the advance - the thunder of hooves and battle cries of the men deafening in Emma’s mind. Watching the scene now through Killian’s eyes, as they got closer to the opposing army, King Malcolm drew his blade across the throat of the blonde woman, Killian’s cry of fury now filling her mind. The armies met, and Killian was relentless against his adversaries until he met King Malcolm himself. The fighting between the two men was brief - Killian obviously a far superior swordsman. It was only moments before Killian’s sword was buried in his enemy’s gut, withdrawn and brought down again where King Malcolm’s neck met his shoulder, literally slicing the man in two. 

The battle was over, and Killian rushed to the dead woman on the other side of the valley. Emma watched through Killian’s eyes as he gently turned her face towards him. Emma’s breath caught and she couldn’t look away from the ashen visage of Killian’s beloved- her own face. His grief and despair poured from his lips as he gathered his love to his chest, uncaring of her blood that covered him. 

Killian’s narration resumed.

“King Malcolm was soundly defeated, paying for his hubris with his life. But not before he took my greatest treasure away from me. My Swan, my bride, my Emma. We’d only been married a few months when I rode away to war. If I’d known what his plans were…” 

His words drifted off for a moment before resuming again. “I’d heard of a witch who lived in the woods near the border of our kingdom. I’d left her in peace because, to my knowledge, she didn’t use her magic for nefarious purposes. I took the body of my beloved to her, mad in my grief, hoping that something could be done to bring my love back to me.”

Emma watched as Killian emerged into a clearing with a small hut on the opposite side. She could smell the woodsmoke tinged with aromatic herbs from the chimney. Could hear his gasping cries and the sound of his pounding fist upon the door. When it opened, Emma gasped in horror. The witch had no face. Long matted red hair framed a pale visage with thick black stitches where her eyes should be. She spoke in an otherworldly whisper as she invited Killian Jones in.

He laid the body of his beloved on a pallet on the floor and begged the witch to do something, anything. Holding her hands out in front of her, Emma gasped again at the bright blue eyes in the center of each of the witch’s palms. She slowly moved her arms back and forth, the eyes darting around, before she began to speak.

“I am powerless against the bonds of death, Killian Jones,” she murmured, but with an undertone that reminded Emma of the swell of the ocean pounding against the rocks of the seashore. “But know this, your love will return to you one day, not by my hand and many lifetimes hence. I will give you a potion that will enable you to live until that time. When she returns to you, her True Love's Kiss will restore you to life and you will live out your days in peace.”

The witch fell silent and her arms dropped to her side, the unnerving eyes now covered from Emma’s sight. The witch turned to a shelf laden with bottles and her hands moved surely among them until they settled on the one she sought. She turned back to Killian and handed him the bottle before speaking again.

“Drinking this will give you endless life, and will freeze time within the confines of your kingdom. The night will be your domain, and you will thirst for blood. Until the time your True Love returns to you.”

Killian uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one go. It was only seconds later that he doubled over in excruciating pain, his cries surely reaching far beyond the woods in which they all stood. It seemed forever to Emma, but his cries finally came to an end and he straightened upright again. His eyes darted around the hut before landing on the witch. Emma could feel the struggle within him - his thirst for blood was overwhelming, but his gratitude for the witch’s prophecy and the potion kept him from slaking that thirst on the first available person he met. His hands shook as he reached out toward her, expressing his thanks. He turned and picked up his bride and quickly took his leave. It wasn’t far into the woods before the thirst took him completely. He hid his love and found a deer to satisfy his hunger. Emma had never hunted anything in her life and couldn’t watch this particular scene. As she waited for it to be over, she heard his voice in her head again.

“Since this time, I have never left my lands.” His voice was sad, resigned, the weight of centuries contained within it. “I’ve only left my halls to feed on the animals of the forest as I waited for you to return to me. Malcolm was the first, but he was by no means the last, to seek to forcibly take my dominion from me. Over the centuries, father and then son have sought to destroy me, but all have failed. Your Dr. Cassidy is the last of that line. Each one has come after me. I have never, in 250 years, sought them out. Malcolm was the one who took you from me, and he tasted my wrath. I held no ill will toward his progeny. I have only ever defended myself against their aggression.”

The scenes came to an end, and Emma was back in her room in the inn, Killian Jones, still gently holding her hand in his own, kneeling before her.

“I knew he was lying,” she whispered. “He said he didn’t know why you targeted his family, but you didn’t. They targeted you.” He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “His great-great…” Emma shook her head slightly, “whatever murdered your love… Murdered… me?” He nodded again. “And you’ve been waiting for me to return to you all this time.” Emma’s heart broke at the sadness in his eyes, and she moved to the edge of her bed, placing her feet on the floor, only inches separating them. “I can’t. I won’t allow this to happen.” She brought her hand to his face and cupped his jaw before lifting his face to hers and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

A prism of rainbow colors blew through the room, and Emma gasped as she pulled back from him. Memories of her previous life flooded her mind - the contract of marriage drawn up between her father and Killian, her love for him from the moment she laid eyes on her betrothed, the swan nickname that he’d called her when she insisted on sharing his bed on their wedding night. She remembered the happy days of their lives before Killian had ridden off to defend their home from Malcolm and then being kidnapped and murdered on a high hill, her beloved on the other side of the small valley that lay between them.

“Killian,” she cried, falling into his arms where he still knelt on the floor. She kissed him fiercely, her hands in his hair, her body held in strong arms and lined up against his from their knees to their lips. They separated briefly, and Emma thought she could drown in the bottomless pools of blue that stared back at her. His skin was no longer pale, but glowed with youth and health. Her fingers trailed lightly down his face to his neck where she could feel his pulse fluttering under her fingers.

“Emma,” he whispered. “You’ve returned to me, and brought me back to life.” He was too overcome to say anymore and rose to his feet, his beloved still in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he was completely without words to express the love and joy flowing through him, not to mention the blood flowing through his veins! He was alive! At long last! He lived again, and his Emma, his Swan, was in his arms after 25o years. He captured her lips with his, teeth and tongues clashing with all the fervor of lovers long separated, finally reunited.

He lowered her to the bed and drew back, his eyes raking over his beloved, taking her in from head to toe - green eyes like emeralds glazed with passion, blonde hair fanned out over her pillow, her lips were red and kiss swollen, her chest heaved, nipples at attention as she struggled to catch her breath. Her long long legs writhed on the bed, seeking friction for the arousal she clearly felt.

“You are so beautiful, my Swan,” he murmured. His fingers trailed lightly down her arms, then sought the bare skin underneath the bodice she wore. She gasped and grasped the bottom of the garment before drawing it over her head in one smooth movement, baring her breasts to him. 

Killian quickly removed his own clothing as she took her bottoms off before returning to her on the bed. Stretching out beside his love, his fingers lightly grazed the side of her breast as his mouth sought hers again. His moan of rapture came from the depths of his very soul. His beloved wife was returned to him. There were times over the past two and a half centuries that he despaired of ever seeing this day, but now that it was here, it seemed all these years without her were but a blink of an eye.

The fervent and frantic motions between them calmed when Killian captured her lips. Emma clung to him, drawing him closer and closer to where she desperately needed him. Her hands traced the long lines of his back from his shoulders to his ass, and delighted at the lean strength she found there. She rolled to her back, bringing him with her, settling him between her legs. Pressing her hips against his hardness, she shuddered at the exquisite pleasure that raced down her spine.

Killian released her lips and dipped his tongue into the two dimples on either side of her mouth and the one on her chin, just as he had remembered doing earlier this evening when beholding her for the first time in so long. He worked his way down the graceful slope of her neck, nibbling and biting, leaving open mouth kisses and raising gooseflesh in his wake. He circled one nipple and then the other with his tongue before drawing it into the warm cavern of his mouth, sucking gently. Her moan of pleasure went straight to his cock and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait to be inside her until he brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy. 

“Killian,” she breathed, writhing beneath him. “Killian, please. I need you so much.”

“Patience, dearest,” he replied in between kisses down her torso. “I must quench my thirst on you now.” She released her breath on a shaky exhale as he spread her legs and blew gently on her soaked folds. Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as she squirmed, but his need was also great, so he dove into the decadent feast laid out before him and was rewarded with a burst of sweetness on his tongue and a high pitched cry from his beloved signaling her climax. He lapped up every drop she bestowed on him before moving up her delectable body once again. Capturing her lips once more, he lined himself up with her channel and pushed into her scorching hot depths.

“Emma,” he cried, “How I love you!” He began to move, slowly at first, but then with more speed as his passion overtook him. 

“I love you, too, Killian,” she moaned. “Take me. Mark me. Make me yours! Please!” 

“I have missed you… so much… my love…” He buried his face in her neck and obliging her words, sucked on her pulse point, drawing heat to the surface of her skin. Her walls gripped him as she fell again, and he could hold himself back no longer, emptying himself into her with a roar of euphoria. 

He collapsed onto his love, but couldn’t open his eyes for several minutes, his newly alive body utterly exhausted. When he could move again, he rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms, nuzzling and kissing her neck. She hummed in satisfaction and met his lips with her own. 

“At times, I would despair that this day would ever come,” he murmured into her lips.

“But I’m here now. And I’ll never leave you,” she promised him. “We need to do something about Neal. He plans to kill you come dawn.”

Killian chuckled amusedly. “Let him come. I’m human again. I won’t be asleep like he expects. I’ll be waiting for him.”

“Let me,” Emma said, her green eyes flashing, her voice filled with passion. “His ancestor started all this - trying to take everything from you and separating us for 250 years by murder, no less. And Neal lied to me about you. Allow me recompense for all that he and his ancestors have taken from us.”

Killian stroked her cheek tenderly. “As you wish, my love.” He gathered her close, her head resting on his chest. “Once we awaken in the morning, you’ll meet him and I’ll slip away to the castle. I’ll be waiting for you in the great hall.” He smiled gently at her. “We will resume our rule of this land, side by side. As it should be.”

“I can’t wait,” Emma murmured. She reached up and kissed him gently before settling her head back on his chest again. It wasn’t long before her breaths evened out and deepened, indicating her peaceful slumber. Killian struggled to remain awake for just a few minutes more of finally holding his love in his arms again after so long. He stroked her hair gently and kissed the top of her head before his eyes slowly closed.

~*~*~

Killian peeled his eyes open and sat up, alarmed, to find himself alone in his chambers at his castle. The magic within him - that bound him and his kingdom - always made sure that he was safely ensconced in his castle before dawn. And the remnants he could feel now left within him must have done the same. Even if it was no longer necessary. He gasped in fear and looked down at his hands in a panic, terrified he might find it was a dream and he was still a vampire. The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees and into his chambers and he could clearly see that his hands were warm and pink with life, rather than the pale ashen color he’d seen for so long. 

He rose from his bed, still naked, his eyes darting around his chambers. It was dawn, and he was awake! He was alive! He hadn’t seen the sun in 250 years and it was glorious! The comparison to Emma’s hair was completely unavoidable. 

Emma!

She’d be here with Dr. Cassidy soon, and Killian needed to prepare himself. He dressed himself carefully and proceeded to the great hall to receive his guests.

~*~*~

Emma and Neal approached the castle, bold as brass. When she’d awoken alone that morning, Killian’s clothes were still scattered around the room, testimony to the night of passion she’d shared with her love, besides the sizable hickey he’d left on her neck. She’d needed to leave her hair down to hide it from Neal when they left the inn on horseback about forty-five minutes before. Now they could clearly see the gates of the castle, wide open.

As if they were expected.

It was exactly the same as her memories of her past life. As they passed under the portcullis, she knew what she’d see - the wide courtyard where the market day was held weekly, or the army Killian commanded practiced drills. They approached the keep, and Emma held her breath. Neal strutted forward as if he was the lord of this castle, and Emma ground her teeth in anger. 

She followed behind him as he consulted the notebook he’d shown her the night before. They continued through the halls of the castle until they entered the Great Hall. Emma’s heart leapt to see Killian on the other side, silently waiting for them. 

“Killian,” she cried, running to him, completely uncaring about Neal’s reaction. He rose to his feet, unspeakable joy on his face. Catching her in his arms, their lips met in a kiss so full of passion, she never wanted it to end. 

Much too soon for her liking, Killian pulled back. 

“My love,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down her cheek. The move was so full of tenderness, it made Emma want to weep.

She met his sapphire gaze with her own and whispered. “Soon,” she assured him before turning to Neal, who stood dumbfounded where she’d left him by the doors. Taking slow, deliberate steps, Emma crossed the room until she stood just a few feet away from her former fiancé.

“I imagine you have some questions,” she began. “Are you wondering how we could possibly know each other, what that kiss was about, exactly what is going on here? I am very happy to answer those questions,” she said with a satisfied smirk on her face. She paused for a moment, before taking another slow and deliberate step toward him. “But not before you hear what I have to say to you.” 

Another step.

“You lied to me,” she accused softly. “You said that this monster had a vendetta against your family, and you didn’t know why. When actually, it was the other way around. Your family held on to a hopeless vendetta against him.” The blood drained out of Neal’s face, and Emma couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips. “You and each of your male ancestors have come against him. Never has he come against you. Not once in two-hundred-fifty years.”

“Emma…”

“Now, for the questions… And the answer is really all rolled up into one. What exactly is going on here? Justice. You came here, the last in a long long line, expecting to finally destroy the vampire whom you claim has plagued your family for centuries. When actually, my True Love and I will be exacting retribution for your and your family’s crimes against us.”

Neal’s voice shook as he whispered, “True Love?”

“Yes,” she replied. “True Love. And you want to know how I know?” She nodded at him, a knowing and gleeful smile on her face. “I know because after he told me the truth, his kiss brought the memories of my past life back to me and brought him back to life again. This vampire has waited for me to return to him after your ancestor murdered me in cold blood, in full view of him and the armies they both led. Since then, your family has come against him, over and over again, until this very day. You are the last. And you will be the last. With no son to take up your vendetta, we will live out the rest of our lives in peace.”

With those words, Emma reached into the bag at her side where she carried all the weapons Neal had brought along on his fruitless quest. Quick as lightning, she pulled out the wickedly sharp wooden stake that he’d planned to plunge into Killian’s chest and plunged it into his neck. Blood poured through his fingers, too much to be stopped. He staggered forward, his other arm reaching for her, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Emma stepped back out of his reach into Killian’s warm embrace.

It was only moments before he was completely still. Emma turned to face her True Love and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s over,” he said in a whisper.

“It’s over,” she repeated, nodding gently. 

“And you’ve returned to me.” A tear slowly tracked down his face as he looked into her eyes and tenderly, reverently stroked her cheek.

“And I’ve returned to you.” She lifted her hand to his face and drew him down to her lips, her kiss promising forever.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!!

[moonpaw]

Same anon for a third time. Sorry! I was just reading through the tags and replies on the original post and I noticed some people mentioning they had some trouble filtering out x readers on Ao3 (cause, again, not everyone tags all their stories the same and it can make many tags to filter out).

Hope this is okay, but I've got another filtering tip but for Ao3 this time! I wanted to share a screenshot but I was a tad nervous to get off anon so I'll just explain.

Under filters on Ao3, if you scroll all the way down you'll find "Search within results". If you put in "-reader" it will automatically filter out anything that has reader in a tag. So the fic can be tagged "Zoro/reader" or just "reader" or "reader-insert" and it'll filter them all with you only putting that one prompt in (be sure to add the minus). Also, if you click the little '?' symbol next to it, you'll find a whole bunch of other ways to find fanfiction or to filter thing (both in and out).

Anyway enough ranting on my part! I hope these tips can help everyone better curate their internet experiences!

yep!! I can confirm this works REALLY well on ao3, and it's what i've been doing for the last few months ^^

[captaindamianos]

I would love a new rec list if you’re offering! 👀🙏🏿😊

Hello!! I'm so incredibly sorry it took me more than a month instead of the day or ten I joked about in my tags. I wasn't feeling too great and I also lost my motivation to participate in the fandom in any way. So it was hard for me to focus on this task.

But I really want to thank you so much for encouraging me! This turned out to be a good way to appreciate other people participating in the fandom and thank them for the work they shared with us.

In the spirit of things though I'm going to make this the most self-indulgent list I can come up with, so this will probably include a few wips, but I'm going to mention that because I know people don't like wips (can't relate haha I've met cool people that way and I love when authors get chatty in the comments).

It's in no particular order! Just whatever came to mind or what I found in the depths of my bookmarks. Let's get started 💪

Canis Major by Lapin

Point of Opposition by forthelongesttime

lovesick by forthelongesttime

Favourite by RockingRobing

Sexual Intercourse by antivillain

The Stand-in Wedding Planner and the Obstinate Baker by penstrikesmidnight

even in another time by phlegmatic

white wine in the sun by phlegmatic (WIP)

Lord, You Keep Me Crawling by princessofpatras (WIP)

come uncover me series by sweetricebuns

i got the t-top cherry blue (now i'm looking at you) by sweetricebuns

too hot to handle series by sweetricebuns

Wildflowers by Shigure_Natsu

A (Precious) Moment In Time by CoffeeDragon87

Lemongrass & Peony by starsxabove

The Garden by DisraeliGears

we kiss and then by residue (please check out all of the authors works as well👌)

Feasts From Heaven by ahdriking

Brute by ahdriking

From Your Mouth by Holly_Golightly I hope there's something in there for everyone, always heed the warnings and ratings. I deliberately left out a lot of fanfics that are already popular, because chances are people have already read them. But I had to add some, because they're very dear to me personally like EIAT and Brute. And I featured a few I've read in the past few months to a year or two. Maybe you missed them, maybe you recently joined and filtered for kudos or hits. But definitely give them a chance, there's so many gems out there. It's once again just a really really small list and definitely doesn't include everything I liked or would recommend, but I have to stop somewhere. If there's specific tropes or things you're looking for, let me know, I can try to make themed lists as well, if it's something I read myself. Hopefully in a shorter time frame next time.

[cyanide-latte]

So after Book 6 left me completely and utterly devastated and a crying wreck in my bedroom, I've finally started Book 7 of Twisted Wonderland and I figured I'd just do a basic drop of my thoughts so far. I'm keeping them under a "read more" cut and I'll also tag this post as having spoilers (even though it's not really the more recent spoilers) just to be safe and considerate.

Beyond that though, my thoughts aren't going to have a filter so please take this with a grain of salt. (I'll mention at the end where I've stopped for now in the plot, so please don't spoil past that point for me if you reply to or reblog this post. I really really don't want spoilers.)

Got it? Good. Here we go.

- Exasperation and loathing, thy form is Michael Mouse, I viciously beseech thee to get out of my house

- we need more of the freshmen just interacting with one another in general

- Rook wanting to take an internship in archeology make so much sense for him. "I'm not a patient person but this will challenge that" BRO, SAME.

- Idia just interning at Google basically

- Lilia like "btw I need to drop out of school, gonna throw a party later before I leave, kthnxbai"

- all of the characters doing impersonations in this book is a DELIGHT

- "I declare the mopefest official over!" Spoken like a man who bottles his stronger emotions up out of fear of having to face them, Ace

- Fucking love the meta commentary

- Idia "I'm not going to some farewell party for a junior I barely know because I need to actually mourn losing contact with an internet friend who ghosted me and I'm despairing the possibility I could ever possibly make a friend again" Shroud is too fucking real, he's relatable honestly

Malleus: here's my lil sob story abt the time I threw a tantrum so bad I almost froze an entire castle of people to death. Lilia made it all better but gave me a stern talking-to I've never forgotten.

Me: why do I feel like you learned nothing.

Also Malleus not long after: because I took your words to heart Lilia I've been looking for a solution to this problem, and Silver and the Ramshackle prefect with their random venting to me gave me the perfect idea, so I'm going to trap THE ENTIRE ISLAND in stasis sleep so NOBODY CAN EVER LEAVE ME AGAIN a good hoard knows to stay put for the dragon who owns it haha you'll all be fine, dw about it, I've got everything under control

Me: so you learned nothing.

- Malleus has no rights, he needs to be sent to the Time-Out Corner

- I also love that that Malmal fight loads up with an infinity symbol because it's like oh lol yeah, infinite-turn battle but then you see Malleus's fucking 300K HP bar and I was instantly like "hmmmm I think you're lying" and then his regen heals for like 60K damage each turn and he casts fire damage immunity on himself and I was like "mmhmm I knew you were lying to me"

- I demanded Mickey get the fuck out of my house so of course naturally the game decides to be cheeky and put me the fuck in his instead

- no but why the fuck is he here. I'm so fucking annoyed

- WE DON'T NEED MICKEY.

- I get it, I get why he's here but he really doesn't need to be. Disney you CAN in fact make a fucking video game without shoehorning the damn mouse into it. The Hidden Mickeys in various backgrounds were fine, we didn't need more than that.

- for the record, I've been pissed off about this since it started happening books ago, but I remain aggravated by Mickey just being shoved into this.

- I love that Silver shows up to bail MC and Grim's collective ass out of danger and then meanwhile you've got Ortho like "I've seen dial-up faster than this shit, what the FUCK bro, I expected better of you, logging this in my database as an Epic Fail."

- but also ORTHO MY CHILD. BE FREE. YOU GOT THIS.

- The Shroud parents are EXACTLY how I imagined. They're everything I wanted from their characters and more. They even SOUND like I hoped they would. Beautiful. 10/10. My intuition about their entire family remains, as ever, on-point.

- I do love everything I've gotten with Silver to this point. I was very baseline neutral on his character until now, but the more I'm seeing of him, the more I appreciate what I am getting.

- Sebek is autistic. I will die on this hill. Even if he represents autistic traits the internet DOESN'T like to woobify for the most part, that boy is autistic. He's autistic as fuck. This book is so far just further proving it.

- I mentioned earlier that Malleus has no rights but I'm saying it again because it's fucking rude as shit he's got epic choral BGM in Sebek's dream. Also creeping on people's dreams and threatening to forcibly make them sleep forever when they defy you because you feel entitled to ownership of your victims? Wow. Hey by the way Malleus, you got a phone call, we got a guy from Ohio on the other line, says his name's Freddy, you're one set of full-body burn scars away from him sueing your scaly ass. Yeah, just thought you'd wanna know.

- Listen I really want to appreciate and like the Malleus I hear everyone among my friends and mutuals say they see him as but no. No. Is he well-written? Well, I'm still early into this, so I'm withholding judgment on that point though I AM hopeful that I'll eventually appreciate how he's written. But do I like him? No. I didn't give a single flying fuck about him to begin with and I still don't. Throw onto it he's being a bitch right now, and that's not helping. If you genuinely like Malleus as a person, that's your prerogative, that's whatever. I'm not entirely sure what you see in him to like as a person but again, your prerogative. If you like him as a character because of how he's written for the role he is in, in the overall story, power to you, I REALLY hope I'll eventually agree with you. But as of right now, just so you're aware if you've read this far, I still don't give a single flying fuck about Malleus and I'm slowly starting to teeter into the direction of actually disliking him as a person.

- Silver: QUICK, TAKE MY HAND!!! Sebek: ew.

- Currently I've stopped on the chapter where Silver has dream-hopped from Sebek's dream with Sebek, Yuu and Grim in tow, into the dream of a mysterious bat-masked figure with a familiar voice who couldn't POSSIBLY be Lilia, not at ALL. So please don't talk to me about anything past that yet. I'll reblog this post with an update when I get further.

[hongtonie]

hi! it's theo aka user worldoutlaw and for 500 followers i wanted to share my coloring/sharpening process ! i've been getting a few notes recently complimenting my coloring and sharpening lately (ty all so much they make me smile every time) and i thought some people might be curious in my process so here we are ! :3 this is just coloring and sharpening so if you're looking for a general gif tutorial i suggest you check out usergif! now without futher ado let's start (color coded for my fellow adhders/neurodivergents who find reading hard)

i do most of my process through actions; of which i have several for different gif dimensions ie 540 width (typically for fancams where i keep the width of the file the same but change the height), 540 height (which i use the most for gifs like the above), and 850 height which i use for my sets that have side by side gifs like my pinned

actions make the beginning of making a gif a lot faster and especially save time when you're rushing to make comeback gifs lmao

after i've converted to the video timeline and selected all of my frames and converted them to a smart object, i apply userdramas's camera raw filter action which can help gifs look higher quality and create the illusion of skin texture when there isn't any

after this i convert the layer into a smart object again and apply my sharpening as follows (partly from anyataylorjoy's action pack)

smart sharpen 1:

smart sharpen 2:

smart sharpen 3: (this one is optional)

smart sharpen 2 duplicated

gaussian blur:

and i click this button on the far right to change the opacity of the blur (usually i set it around 10-30)

it may look funky but noise at the end will always fix it :p

after i sharpen i start on coloring!

my coloring process starts with editing values with curves, brightness & contrast, and sometimes levels

this helps to achieve the high contrast look i really like on my gifs and below are my settings for this specific set

i find that the marker in the center of the curves graph can often help darken skin tones if the subject appears too light

after i have my values down i move on to the actual colors

i start with adding a selective color layer; adjusting the red values, followed by yellow, then black, white, and any other colors i would want prominent in the gif

for example, with this set i wanted the blues to look really nice so i increased the cyans and decreased the yellows to my liking

changing the black values adds to the dimension i like in my gifs; these are my settings

forgot magenta whoops

next i add a hue/sat layer where i mess with the red and yellow values which often adds extra help to skin tones (i also recently started using hue/sat on colors like the blues here)

now these gifs didn't need it thankfully, but if needed i will also do color balance and channel mixer layers

after all my coloring and sharpening is done and i'm satisfied with how a gif looks i will convert all layers to a smart object and add noise (typically 1.5-3)

then the gif is done and i save it! these are my save settings

and that's how i turn this

into this!

hope y'all enjoyed and found this helpful and thank you again for 500<3333

some tags for fun and also to thank my supportive lovely mutuals @solojihyo @twiceland @97chwe @jeonwonwoo @sanchelinz @applejongho @hwanswerland @kyubins @minchanz @seonghwasblr @get-lit @jjongho @userwoosan @strhwaberries @dqmeron (ty for looking over this for me 🫶)

[thebroccolination]

it confuses the hell out of me how Tumblr out of all places harbors most negativity toward BMF. situation it's much better now though, but the early period and before the show aired was nothing but spite an vitriol filling the tags. on the bright side, pretty much every other platform is head over heels for BMF, especially Reddit. they're usually critical af but BMF seems to be universally praised. anyways, I'm beyond excited for the remaining eps, and here's hoping for a strong finale so this show becomes one of the often recommended ones 🙏

On BMF getting more negativity on Tumblr than other places:

I thiiiiink it's because Tumblr has an especially high North American/European user base, and that's where the majority of the Krist hate seems to come from. What people still point to (the IG story, the rape filter joke, the "I don't want to watch Singto specifically kiss other men because this is fanservice on a variety TV show that people are going to quote out of context as me saying I don't like watching men kiss" thing) are either debunked or happened years ago, but when interfans arrived in droves in 2020, they kicked up old news like it was brand new and passed around hearsay like it was fact.

I mean, even I've learned new things since I made my post and thread about Krist back in September. For one, GMM didn't arrange his press conference in 2020 to address the issues. Krist did. Even though he'd already apologized multiple times over the years for things he never repeated, he still wanted to take accountability because of the amount of attention interfans were bringing to it. Part of that press conference was Krist even saying he'd never make excuses for what he's done and that he'll apologize as long as he's asked to.

The first(?) apology Krist made for the IG story was long, long ago, one I can't even find a translation for, that's how long ago it was. But Krist's long-time fans said that someone did translate it, but their English wasn't strong, so interfans picked apart their translation as if Krist's apology was lacking. (It's like how some interfans criticized Win in Between Us for being forceful because the subtitles originally said "kiss me" when what he actually said in Thai was "can I kiss you?" Interfans who don't speak Thai just make assumptions based on translations sometimes and it's part of my villain origin story.) Again, I don't have the apology to hand, but apparently one part of it was Krist saying something like, "I responded without thinking of how it would look. As a Y actor, I don't have those kinds of bigoted thoughts. This is my home, and I'm very proud of and supportive of the community that's raised me and cared for me," and the fan translation apparently paraphrased all of that into something like, "As a BL actor, of course I'm not homophobic." So like. Even when he's apologized, interfans have historically found a way to throw rocks at him anyway, so it gets exhausting to see people casually calling him homophobic because Melanie in Minnesota saw a screenshot of an IG story on Twitter and then made a list of six problematic BL actors you should definitely avoid because they skin babies and punt puppies into volcanoes.

On BMF being great:

I'm so excited for the last three episodes. \:D/

I'm so proud of Krist and Gawin for the work they've done up until now. It's wild to think about the amount of information they had to keep in mind as they were filming. Because, like, series already film out of order, but they also had to keep in mind different timelines of the same characters out of order. The fact that you can see not only Kawi's growth but everyone else's as well so fluidly and consistently over the episodes so far says a great deal about the quality of the production, I think. The directing, the writing, the acting. All of it is really, truly phenomenal.

Aaahhhh why is it only Tuesday. :'(

ANYWAY thank you, Anon! Sorry for the rant about Krist. I'm just tired of seeing him get so much hate for years on end when he's such a loving and giving person who's been a vocal queer ally since SOTUS. Not just during Pride, either. He really has been deeply misconstrued by interfans at large, and I just hope the people who've made up their minds about hating him (and the ones who've made their hate so public they're too stubborn to admit they misread him) will just learn to ignore him and stop tormenting him. He's already suffered panic attacks and depression as a result of the constant abuse, and it's repulsive that anyone thinks that's acceptable to do.

[anewp0tat0]

AAAAHHHHH!! CONSIDER MY SHIT FLIPPED!! THE BLACK BUTLER LIVES! What are your thoughts on the new art style?

BRO I'm with you, flipped like that pancake I managed to throw half out the pan😩 I still can't believe. best Monday every fr.

and ooo thanks for the question, I wanna hear your thoughts after this👀 I've already said a little bit about this in the tags of some other posts, as well as touched on it in my master post of the crew, but I suppose I may give a big final answer(for now, from this teaser).

judging the art alone, not the fact that we get a new anime or anything exciting like that, just the art alone... it's very pretty!

yea this is very pretty. the kid looks great, small and good, and his hair looks feathery and neat, so I approve. I think they nailed his general proportions, I think they'll do a great job at keeping them consistent during episodes! the image to the right does looks a tiny bit like a 3d asset, which is a bit jarring compared to the previous anime style, but I'm flexible towards this change. even if he looks like a video game cutscene character, I usually love cutscenes!!

but here's the drama I'm sure you're here for. yes, unfortunately, there are some wee things that I don't love as much🤏

the first thing, it really doesn't matter and I should shut up about it now... but YOU asked so ajdjfksksk why did they have to shrink sebs jaw cmon my favorite art of him ever was during the Greenwitch arc so don't tell me I'll NEVER be able to see that style of him animated😫 I just like prominent features man. I know he's meant to be pretty but but but....

ah okay. heres the main thing that I think most people may agree with.

these are two screenies of sebster from the teaser. honestly, as ☆luxurious☆ as his lashes are, I'm not a fan of the left image. the airbrush on his hair feels a tad overdone. I love the attention to detail, especially in the one on the right, it shows a lot of love! but there's just something about it that's a bit off for me.

and I think after 24 hours I've finally figured it out: it's the colors.

the realization started to hit me when I saw my favorite edit so far here by @ashxketchum. the colors have been edited to be much more saturated and warm. and I think this is exactly what is missing here.

I even tried my own hand at it, and yea personally, I think slapping a saturation, tint, and just a BIT of contrast on the whole thing can do numbers on it.

already I like it(no I'm not just praising my own work, it's not the best edit out there I did it in 30 secs). I think the reason for this is because the background is very rich in contrast and warm tones, so the characters(particularly sebastian who is all black) stand out when they are muddy and low contrast. I love stylistically when contrast is high, but that's just a personal thing, and I shouldn't hold a studio to those standards.

I tried it for the poster too though, which again I felt was a bit off. official art has never been the most top tear, and the poster is GOOD, the background is awesome and the two peeps looks amazing. but my problem with it was clear once I did another color edit.

(edit on the right)

again, I feel like everything was very muted in the left original, not to mention a tad monochromatic. I really think a kick of contrast and hue could do wonders.

BUT. I know that at the end of the day, it's not a big deal. I don't really care. would it make my day or whole year if they slapped a color filter on it, or continued to work on the color grading of the scenes? probably yea! but my opinion isn't obsolete, and most of all, I look forward to and respect the artists decisions.

so no I'm not "fixing" the art😅😒.

and finally, I think this is awesome:

(I had forgotten but this gif is edited by @kilruas from this post)

GORGEOUS. could it turn some people off cause it's mostly cg? maybe. idc though. gorgeous. gimme some of that beverage.

sorry for the rant, hope it's what you wanted! I think that's everything... I like it 85%!

[self-loving-vampire]

I don't really want to reblog your post saying this because I feel like that could be annoying but I've gotten a lot into gacha games (specifically Bang Dream, Project Sekai, D4DJ, Blue Archive, and now Zenless Zone Zero, in that order) as a 25 year old plural trans failgirl and despite enjoying them I know they are bad for me and it is my policy to not recommend them

and basically every time I find myself posting gushing over their stories or whatever I feel the need to asterisk myself with "this is a gacha game so I'm not really recommending you check it out". And like, I don't know, I feel like I should say it and it's necessary but it also feels a little tedious I guess. Like, everyone who I follow and who follows me knows this already so aah. But also then again I thought I already knew that the psychological manipulation and gambling was bad and etc and I still ended up getting super OCD over it and losing a lot of time and money to them and I would not wish this condition on anyone else. Which I guess is a more than good enough reason to continue the asterisking even if it's tedious in the same way it's tedious to say "content warning" or "spoilers for _____" or tag anything bothersome so people can filter it and sometimes you might forget to but you gotta do it anyway.

Anyway I uh. I do have like fifteen years of game playing experience prior to the gacha games where I played no gacha games. So if that counts for anything my favorite games of all time (and these are all non gacha singleplayer games) range from like,

Psychonauts (1 and 2), Milk Inside a Bag of Milk, Subahibi, killer7, Night in the Woods, VA-11 HALL-A, Tsui Yuri ~Okaa-san ni wa Naisho da yo~ (the incest yuri visual novel), Shadow the Hedgehog, if found..., Kindred Spirits on the Roof, Dishonored, Gunpoint, Jet Set Radio Future, and most importantly Senran Kagura (but not the gacha one), and many others but I'll just stop typing them now

Also I recently played the System Shock remake, which is kino and beautiful

Anyway I hope this confession is allowed. I really like your posts and your ask box has a very confessional vibe to me sometimes so I still feel compelled to it. Um, yeah. I guess, play those games. And not necessarily any gacha games. (Do that at your own risk, but also probably, really, seriously don't)

I've been trying to write a more formal essay on how gacha games can have good things in them but unfortunately still suck but ironically it hasn't yet come together because I've been distracted playing the gacha games. Hopefully I figure out that problem... Maybe with drugs or something (please)

Yeah, I don't think they are entirely bad (I still look at and reblog horny pictures from some of them often) but I wouldn't play one of those again even with full confidence that I won't fall into a gambling addiction because even putting morality and financial risk aside the very fact that they are trying to push players into it ends up worsening the rest of the game design.

Games these days (not even exclusively gacha) are sometimes deliberately made more tedious and inconvenient just for the sake of selling a solution to these invented problems. Paying to remove some arbitrary limitation or to skip a grind, for example.

The controversy around the new Star Wars Battlefront 2 contrasted with the original game highlights this very clearly. Things that used to just be a part of the game included by default are now things you have to either gamble for or play for an unreasonable amount of time to unlock. It really did not have to be that way, as demonstrated by the original game.

I think if you have been playing them and noticed all the issues it might be worth it to ask yourself if you're actually enjoying yourself on the net. Not just if the games have something in them that's worthwhile but if they are actually a fun way to pass your time. Is it play, or is it a chore you put up with to avoid falling behind or missing out on the things you do like? Would you be missing on much if you engaged with the story through youtube videos instead of playing the game yourself?

And if you do end up deciding you could be having more fun with something else, it's not like there's a shortage of other games, especially if you look into older games. Many of these are free or easy to emulate.

Looking at your list I think we have different tastes but if you enjoyed things like System Shock and Dishonored then you could maybe look into the first Deus Ex, Dark Messiah of Might and Magic, or Arx Fatalis.

(Also this is a confessional now? I guess it gives people an excuse to picture me dressed up as one of those ero anime nuns even as I maximize blasphemy and apostasy.)

[boogiewoogieweeb]

4, 10, 19, 39, 55!

hello nonnie! thank you very much for the asks - i hope my answers will be satisfactory! 🌹🌹🌹

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

as cliched as it sounds, everywhere really. all it takes for a fic idea to form is for me to see or experience something interesting and apply it to whichever characters i'm currently obsessed with. a good example of this would be my joplittle sexsomnia au - it was born from reading an article posted to reddit about how extreme stress or emotional trauma can induce this condition, and what the partners of people who suffer from it have to deal with. my brain extrapolated on this by going, "neat! now let's apply that to edward little and see where it goes!". and so now i'm a quarter of the way through a wip about the first lieutenant of hms terror getting up to sexcapades in his sleep :D

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

you would not believe how many of my wips i actually had to dig through (eight, it was eight) before i actually found one where i've used the word "blinks". anyway, here's wonderwall the snippet:

“Then I should hope to always be fortunate enough to have a Second so steadfast in his dedication as you have proven yourself to be, Lieutenant Little.” The words settle over Edward like a warm weight; an anchor dropped in calm waters, and he blinks harshly to stem the prick of tears that burn suddenly at the back of his eyes.

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

the filters on my works page tells me that apparently, it's #humor. followed in short order by #angst, #drama, and #drabble in combined second-place. which really tells you everything you need to know about me as a person, probably.

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

this is one i've been sitting on for more than a month now, following some conversation with two of my favourite people, lily and helen, on the topic of the parallels between little and crozier in the terror. it's a fic that's almost as close to my heart as my "ned quits the navy" au, and it's coincidentally also the same fic where i pulled the "blinks" snippet from:

He’s going to lose the fingers, at the very least.

What had started out as frostbite has grown into something far, far more insidious; the rigid blue-white of hardened flesh having first given way to purple bloating, then to leathery, blistered brown, and finally to black decay; variegated streaks of reddish-grey striating from the tips all the way down towards the line of his knuckles.

Worse yet is the smell whenever he peels the bandages off; a faint, nauseating, slightly sweet stench that reminds him of the time when, as boys, he and James had once come upon a dead fox while out riding one afternoon - flyblown and baking in the stifling summer heat, its noxious and festering body bloated with gas and rot.

The first time he’d seen – truly seen – how bad his hand had gotten, he’d rushed outside to empty his heaving stomach into the fine fresh dusting of snow that had settled over the outpost like a blanket.

It hurts to use, nowadays. He can’t properly make a fist anymore for how swollen his hand’s become, and every touch now is its own bright, stinging agony.

Edward stares dully at his left hand in mild disgust before wrapping it again, tight enough to send pain coursing down his wrist and all the way up to his elbow; rolling waves of needling fire that beat in time with his pulse. He’s taken to doing this alone in one of the woodsheds on the outskirts of the fort, though if pressed, he wouldn’t have been able to answer as to why.

He’s shaking by the time he finishes, trembling as if palsied, breathing hard as if he'd just run a mile. But his hand is bandaged once more, and the damage is hidden from sight. In time, Edward knows, he will need to see to the matter of its removal.

He will lose the fingers, sure enough; if not more. It doesn’t matter. There are worse things to lose in life than a hand.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

oh, i'd have to say it's my best boy edward little. he's far and away the character i've come to empathize with and relate to the most - probably ever - and so that makes it easier for me to get into the headspace required to write things from his perspective. as for being swayed by the reactions of others to how i write him, i don't think i am, not really. i certainly greatly appreciate and enjoy reading comments that praise my characterization, but i like to think i have a pretty clear and well-defined enough grasp of my blorbo whenever i do manage to bang out a few words on the old keyboard that i'm quietly confident in my ability to portray him relatively faithfully and accurately.

and that about covers it! once again thank you so much for taking the time to get to know a bit more about me and my writing process, nonnie! it was a lot of fun coming up with answers to your questions!