#and then I have to look in the tags to see if anyone else can confirm it’s ai

[stevishabitat]

This is what happens when a tool created by Black folks gets appropriated to the wider internet.

Black folks wanted to have conversations online without white people inserting themselves and offering opinions about things that were frankly none of their business.

So you would see variations on "white people DNI" on posts particularly about things like colorism, misogynoir, Black LGBTQIA+ issues, etc.

The DNI wasn't on their personal profile or a pinned post or something. It was on the specific post to let people know that although the post was public for everyone to see, it wasn't for Everyone to Comment On.

And of course, like everything else on the internet, it spread beyond the Black creators to everyone else - without the cultural context. DNI disclaimers were added to everything from queer topics and feminism, to sports and media fandom.

To the point where you had posts with "X Character Stans DNI".

But at least it was still on the posts themselves, or in tags, so you could see that this particular post, wherever you happened to come across it, was meant for a particular audience. If you didn't fall in that category, maybe just scroll on.

The jump to putting extensive and vague (or hyperspecific) DNI lists in your profile or on a pinned post or carrd or something... That's just so far outside the original intent.

The expectation that someone will 1. Look at that list before they follow you or respond to a post and 2. Actually do what's asked? Seems like a very strange thing to assume on the internet.

I mean, yeah maybe people will take it in good faith and be like "hmm maybe this person's stuff just isn't for me", but there are lots more bad faith people who will use that as an excuse to put their Troll Hat on and see if they can get a reaction from you.

If the thing you're putting in the DNI isn't that big a deal, then having a troll bother you with it might be annoying but not terrible. If you're listing things that are actually triggers for anxiety, a phobia, or ptsd? You are putting yourself at risk by publicizing it. Because bullies sniff that shit out like sharks on the hunt (see also: advertising that you're a teen 😱 don't do that!)

It's reasonable to list the topics you commonly post about, to give potential followers a heads up about what they're likely to see in your posts - in your profile or pinned post - especially if you aren't great at tagging.

Make that list clear and easy to find and read. That makes it easier for visitors/potential followers to decide if your blog is a good fit for them.

A simple line like "I reserve the right to block as I see fit" serves as enough warning that if people rub you the wrong way you aren't going to engage.

Honestly, you don't owe anyone on the internet a reason for blocking or filtering or using tags to curate your internet environment.

You don't owe any random stranger a welcome into your living room. You can say "No Thanks!" and firmly shut the door. If they try to shove letters through your door, you don't have to read them - put them straight in the recycle bin.

"xyz DNI" blocking people is YOUR job, sorry. You cannot ask the world to simply move around you, you have to take control of your online experience or you will be fucking miserable forever. Most people don't read your bio/pinned/carrd before touching the posts that cross their dash anyways.

Also maybe worry less about if someone who likes something you hate clicks on your tumblr post. I promise it is not that fucking serious.

Also-also if you have this DNI because your friends/moots said or implied you have to otherwise you're somehow Bad and/or will be punished by them if you don't, that's kind of fucked and maybe you need less controlling friends.

[hotvintagepoll]

Vintage movie recommendations for getting through these dark times? 🙏 Looking specifically for anything joyous, especially if it's queer/progressive for its time. Thanks!!

ooh ok! that's a big ask, because queer/progressive doesn't always show in the ways we expect in older movies. still, joyous i can do, and as poly as I can I'll try for:

the talk of the town (you knew i would say this). jean arthur, cary grant, ronald colman are all tangled up in all sorts of ways, legally but also including in each other's pajamas. it's free on youtube and tubi last time i checked!

singin' in the rain (you also knew i would say this). cosmo brown, weird little third wheeling queerplatonic ideal that you are. gene kelly, debbie reynolds, and donald o'connor have fire chemistry and all three of their characters love the other ones so truly and with such joy they break all of hollywood with the power of song. (it is gorgeous and sublime that the story is built so only these three ever actually engage with the musical format—the format that is, in universe, the way of the future—structurally equating music and musicals with love. no one else gets a song or a villain number or a little ditty that's not a literal musical number. only these three break the story and heal it at the same time.)

the adventures of robin hood—i swear to god will scarlett is good for nothing else besides being robin's hot little friend. will alone makes this movie queer for me. also, watching a movie about a socialist uprising against a cruel and unjust government sure feels apt! for no particular reason! (this one is also on tubi.)

the philadelphia story—jimmy katharine and cary are absolutely a threesome in this movie and it's a crime they didn't just make more of this movie, again and again, forever. is there a plot? they're all by a swimming pool, it's hot, there's champagne. what else do you need for a film. oh yeah there's some discussion of autonomy and women's rights and wealth and class and marriage, some of which i disagree with, but i think mostly it's katharine hepburn in an evening gown and jimmy stewart in a white terry cloth robe and cary grant standing there not minding in the least. (content warning: there is one instance of a racial slur [not directed at anyone but still there], and one shove. also on tubi.)

the lady vanishes—i love this movie, so much, couldn't tell you why (i can: michael redgrave is here being hot). there are two bit characters who read as queer coded (they are also obsessed with cricket and are mocked for being english by the narrative, which is nice), and there's a weird plucky joy in michael redgrave's performance that feels like a departure from your usual Solid Very Serious Male Heroic Main Character. this movie does trend mildly xenophobic in a very England-in-the-30s type of way—there are shady "foreign" characters and other batshit stereotypes—but nothing I think that would cause direct offense. (let me know if I'm wrong on this though and I'll tag accordingly). this one is free anywhere and can be watched on youtube.

the wizard of oz—i know you've probably seen this before but it's worth seeing again. yes you're allowed to cry at the end i always do

[stxrslut]

HUMILIATED 𖤍

summary; when rafe gets with you as a barrier to stand between the tension that stands in stone between him and his drug dealer, but the moment barry realises what he's doing, he takes it to his utmost advantage and uses you to prove to rafe that he will never be anything other than pathetic to him  

content; rafebarry x reader, dubcon, ass eating, use of weed, “bitch” is used in a derogatory way towards reader

rafe cameron is a pathetic man. there’s no doubt about it, anyone who’s ever met him has found it out in some way or another. you’d been told this when he started going after you, and to your dismay, you’d ignored it. you’d had no idea that rafe had alternate motivations when he began pursuing you, but you were ever so wrong. 

maybe one month ago, more or less, there had been a rather monumental night. rafe and barry, up late, smoking, had fucked. it was quick and rushed and sweaty and gross. and then rafe had run for the hills, never to acknowledge the night again, or so he thought. 

overcome by a mountain of emotions and complicated thought processes, he’d done everything possible to distract himself, starting with a few hookups, and then a relationship with you. 

you do the job well enough for him, but even so the dealer is always somewhere in his mind. you notice sometimes when you’re having sex that he just disassociates, but you’re not sure what he’s thinking of, maybe that’s just how he is in bed. 

whilst you’re not aware of all of the backstory behind them, you know something is up with rafe and barry. when you tag along with rafe on his weekly visits the tension between them is tangible. barry always remains stony faced,rafe always looks similar to a prey animal, scared, skittish, ready to run or play a defence. you quickly become aware that you are his defence. 

rafe takes you there to try and intimidate him. to try and show him, to send a message that says “I don’t need you.” 

tonight is one of those nights. you are sat cross legged on one of the two couches on barry’s front porch. you feel rather uncomfortable. 

the two men are smoking weed, each of them have their own joint, because apparently sharing doesn’t happen anymore. rafe occasionally offers you a drag, which you occasionally take, but you think if you got high, the tension in the air would make you puke. it might make you puke anyway. 

nobody has said anything for over five minutes. you decide to crawl into rafe’s lap, for some comfort, retreat, maybe just to make him break this deafening silence. 

rafe lets you take a place straddling his lap, you wriggle down there to get comfortable before you rest your head on his chest. to your absolute disappointment, the silence continues. 

another ten minutes, maybe fifteen, you can’t keep count. you hear the moving of cushions from behind you, barry must be changing the position that he’s sitting in. 

looking up, you see rafe’s jaw ticking in supposed frustration. you can tell that the thoughts are rushing around behind his eyes before his gaze hardens and he looks back down to you. 

without speaking, his hand cups the back of your head and he pulls you up to lock lips with him. the kiss is sudden and a little too intense for the context, being that his drug dealer is watching it happen. 

there’s really not a way for you to protest and this does help occupy the quiet and awkward just a little bit so you don’t. along with you not protesting, it escalates just a little bit. a lot actually, within minutes you’re humping on his bulge. 

your mouth no longer on his lips and now on his neck, you can see his face just a little bit. he’s staring right at barry, not looking away, not blinking. his only acknowledgement of you is the hand on your lower back, guiding your movements just a little bit. 

you think maybe you should just stop, walk home without him and escape this turmoil of looks and telepathic communications you can’t tap in on. but something else happens before you can act on it. 

you don’t see it coming, so it takes you by surprise when barry’s firm pair of hands pull you back to stand up against him. 

“fuckin’ done with this.” he grumbles, but he’s not speaking to you, he’s speaking to rafe, who’s face you can now see is bright red, eyes wide and lips parted. “you think you’re such a tough guy huh? nah. we’re not doin’ this no more. you wanna fuckin’ show off your girl like that makes you better. huh?” 

he yells, pushing you aside but blocking you in, as he goes down to rafe’s level. you watch in shock as he leans forward and grabs rafe by the collar. then he pushes him down to lay on his stomach on the couch, making his cheek smush up against a pillow that probably smells of mould. 

once rafe’s pants are pulled down and his ass is revealed to the cold evening air, barry grabs you once more, forming a ponytail in your hair to keep a firm hold of you. 

his mouth comes up close to your ear, “you think your man’s tough huh? nah. gonna show you what a fuckin’ pathetic little son of a bitch he is.” the dealer's words are driven by an anger that you are not sure the origin of. 

you have to avoid yelping when suddenly you’re pushed to your knees and your face is inches away from his ass. you can guess now what you’re about to do. 

hand still on your head, barry levels his face with rafe now, “feel like a big guy now rafe? do you feel good?” 

and then your face is shoved down. your mouth immediately comes into contact with his asshole. by default, you begin to move a little, parting your lips and tonguing at it. barry chuckles, “this girl knows what to do, doesn't she? you got her trained rafe? you like having your ass ate?” 

rafe whimpers. he feels humiliated, this is not the reason he ever dated you. he dated you for confidence in himself, not whatever the fuck this is. 

unfortunately, for him that is, pleasure is there too, and he can’t resist reacting to it. his ass shifts upwards to accommodate the boner that was pressing into the couch uncomfortably. 

the sounds he’s making are oh so pathetic, whimpers and whines and little begs to barry to stop this. he doesn’t stop though. 

even when you come up for a breath of air you’re swiftly pushed right back down by his firm hand, “keep goin’ bitch. I didn’t tell you to stop.” 

after chastising you, barry turns to rafe with a clear sense of what he’s about to do. “look at you. fuckin’ pathetic. never gonna be the big man you think you are rafe cameron.” 

it takes just a few more seconds and then rafe cries out embarrassingly loud. “mmh- fuck. get her off o’me.. stop it.” tears are falling down his cheeks while he feels nothing but humiliation at what he’s doing. 

barry does pull you away, pushing you aside, but only after he’s sure that rafe has endured every last second of his orgasm. 

you move up to sit on the floor two feet away, eyes fixated on the two. rafe is breathless, body limp on the couch, cheeks red and tearstained. his eyes bore into barry’s, it’s like they’re speaking in their heads again. whatever the fuck has happened between these two, you just hope to god you don’t have to stay a part of it.

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[aparttimewriter]

THE SONGBIRD: part three

chrismd x musician reader !

summary: chris is trying to move on from his breakup, little did he know he would find a connection with one of his roommates friends

social media au ✨

yourusername

liked by mollymae, masonmount, chrismd10 and 432,679 others

yourusername: 💋💋

view all 12,578 comments

masonmount:🔥

—yourusername: 😊

user: did anyone else see that comment interactions between y/n and mason ??

mollymae: stunning !!!

user: someone check on chris !! because mount definitely has some game

user: everyone say thank you y/n for positing this for free

chrismd10: entering your alcoholism era i see

—yourusername: rude ! as if you don’t also drink your feelings

user: ahh the banter she has with chris !!

yourusername

liked by taliamar, masonmount, arthurnfhill and 436,678 others

yourusername: just weekend things

view all 12,678 comments

user: THE JERSEY !!

taliamar: literally so gorgeous!

user: did anyone see those photos of y/n and mount out for dinner ??

—user: yes !! it definitely looked like a date

masonmount: good taste in football jersey

—user: what ???

user: no y/n it’s meant to be chrismd ! we love our short king

arthurnhill: why the sudden interest in football ??

—yourusername: shut up you !

user: @chrismd come get your girl

yourusername added to their story

chrismd10

liked by arthurnfhill, yourusername, georgeclarkeey and 263,688 others

tagged arthurnhill, georgeclarkeey, arhrurtv, yourusername

chrismd10: went to a festival on the weekend and watched my two talented friends preform

view all 534 comments

arthurnhill: thanks for the love and support man !!

user: omg those photos of y/n !

—user: right ! chris is definitely down bad

user: but is mount better at free kicks then most premier league players ??

yourusername: shout out to @chrismd10 for being my own personal photographer for the day

—chrismd10: happy to help 😊

georgeclarkeey: the hat was definitely a choice

—yourusesrname: it’s called fashion,look it up

user: not y/n defending her man in the comments

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by chrismd10, taliamar, arthurnfhill and 342,367 others

yourusername: brb currently in my holiday era ☀️

view all 12,478 comments

mollymae: looking so stunning 😍

—yourusername: right back at you lovely 💕

user: how can someone look that good all the time

user: wait !! is y/n on holiday with chris and the others !?

—user: i think so, have you seen the others insta story’s ?

taliamar: dam girl 🔥

user: my eyes are blessed

chrismd10: where’s my photo credit ??

—yourusername: don’t ruin my air of mystery!

an: thanks again for all the amazing support for this series xx

tag list: @arthurhillmastermind @melancholicandmessy @cinnvmonrolls @misplacedxeggos @ooostarwarsfandom501st @theresglitteronthefloor

[queerofthedagger]

It Certainly Is a Day Snippet

I was tagged by @melestasflight @sallysavestheday @luthnethril and @aredhels thank you all so much! Have a snippet from a little russingon post re-embodiment thing that won't leave me alone! <3

They move into a small house south of Tirion, overlooking the Bay of Eldamar. They can see Alqualondë from here, Tol Eressëa on a clear day. Each morning, Maedhros stands on top of the jagged cliff, and thinks of falling. Of how it feels like flying, right until it does not. He thinks of his brother, still wandering shores he cannot see no matter how he strains his eyes. Each morning, Fingon appears beside him, steady to his left. Takes Maedhros’ hand and looks down at the white shores that, ages past, had been soaked red by both their hands. They both think, then, of how it had been the worst of Fingon’s deeds, save loving Maedhros only. How it does not even make the top five of Maedhros’ ranking anymore. It is not, Maedhros thinks, that Fingon is no longer angry. It is just that Fingon has never let anything as clean-cut as betrayal stop him from loving Maedhros in despite.

Tagging @hobbitwrangler @elevenelvenswords @amorbidcorvid @swanhild @thescrapwitch and anyone else who'd like to! <3

[holybasementdweller]

wanted to add my two cents because shipping discourse is just all over recently. Forgive me rambling a bit here. I have a lot of thoughts on this topic and would like to get them out there in some form.

Stop harassing CC's about their boundaries.

Would you go up to a random person whom you've never met before in your life, who has never met you either, and likely has no idea who you are, purely to ask them if you can draw/write/ship them with one of their co-workers?

No! It's a wildly uncomfortable question to a lot of people, it puts them on the spot, and some CC's may not care as long as they never see it. Now that the concept has been shoved in their face, they're forced to view the idea.

I feel like a large part of the issue is the divide between younger, newer fandom members and older, traditional ones. Primarily the concept that fan content is not intended for CCs, but for fans specifically. Most 'traditional' and older fandom participants follow this view because that's what fandom is. You get to make cool things, and ramble about different head cannons and ideas with your friends and maybe find other fans who become your friends along the way. Maybe you want to throw these characters you really like into this elaborate superhero AU, or draw them in costume, or explore relationship dynamics because it's fun and you get to ramble with fellow fans. It's called a fandom for a reason!

I'd like to clarify here that this post is not meant to target anyone in particular; it's going off a general trend I've noticed.

There's been an influx of people who create fan works or fanart that seems to be aimed more to gain clout or to be noticed by CCs. It's something they wanted to make, but is leaving the realm of "by fans, for fans," in a sense that it seems to have lost more of that "for fans." The work is then shoved at the CC more aggressively than if it was just for friends.

There's a reason that spaces like AO3 and Tumblr exist with such large fan communities- because the communities are meant for fans. It's all well and good when CC's decide to take a peek or participate in said fan spaces of their own volition. They're the ones making the choice to engage. It's NOT all well and good when someone, as a fan, is trying to make that choice FOR them by shoving fanworks at the CC begging for clarification on what is okay with them. You're not going to help anyone in that way. Fan spaces exist separately from the CC spaces for a reason. The CC is a person behind the screen who you don't know. The character or role they play in the series you watch? You might know just about everything there is to know about them!

If a CC has laid out a boundary that they aren't comfortable with X Y Z, then there's a really, really simple solution here. Don't show it to them.

Don't put it in main tags, don't tag them in the post, hell, block the CC so you know they won't be able to view something that makes them uncomfortable.

There's a lot of what comes across as almost puritanical virtue signaling I've seen lately, where people are talking about CC boundaries everywhere and trying to police fanwork. I will again refer you to the point above. The fanwork is not made for the CC. It is made for fans, and if it is something the CC isn't comfortable with, then don't go posting it where they might regularly look at things (such as main fanart/fanwork tags.)

Yes, there are CCs who are over here. Yes, they look through fan works. This app is primarily a fan-oriented space and it has tags that CC's (or anyone else!!) can block to avoid things they are uncomfortable with. Though at this point the few that are over here either were already gay dot com natives or have basically become one.

I may have gone a bit off my original topic but TL;DR:

KEEP FAN WORKS TO FAN SPACES, AND STOP HARASSING THE CC'S PLEASE. LET THEM EXIST IN PEACE.

[firstkanaphans]

RE your tags on the bromance thing - I think I allowed myself to get a little panicky earlier when seeing a few people talk about there potentially being more, and whilst there are a few points made that I can understand, I do feel like the amount of worry I’m seeing it maybe a little preemptive?

Like, I do agree that it feels stupid to put TayNew in a bromance series; if they wanted two actors that are close & have worked together before, why not Tay and Off or New and Gun or something? BUT I did see that Tay and New actually wanted to do a bromance series together, so there’s part of me thinking that this was THEIR choice to do this series and not give it to some other actors. (And let’s be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone else who could have made this show so warm, angsty, and lovely.)

I feel like GMMTV has really been embracing their BLs a bit more if I’m honest, and sure, they do queer baiting in their non-queer shows, but who doesn’t? You can watch anything on Netflix or whatever and find ‘bromances’ that are severe queer baiting.

I kinda feel like sometimes people pile on GMMTV a bit much, all because they’re kinda like the biggest company in the drama community that does decent queer dramas? I don’t know if that’s just me being blind to their flaws, but I sometimes think they get a little more hate than other production companies and not always deservedly? (I mean I know they aren’t perfect and I call out their bullshit myself, but I feel like sometimes it’s ‘cool’ to hate on them?)

Sorry if none of this makes sense and I’m rambling - it’s almost 2am and I really need to sleep 🤣

In my opinion, these claims that GMMTV is going to pivot to bromances because they’re less gay and more profitable are absolutely baseless. Bromances are not new to GMMTV. They’re not even new to TayNew as I believe I’m Tee, Me Too was a bromance as well. Like you said, P’Dome explicitly stated that TayNew wanted to film a show together that was not a BL. Should they not be able to? And weren’t these same people complaining just days ago that CPs are never allowed to act outside of their CP? Now, they’re mad when they do.

What people are losing their marbles over is literally just the cast and crew having a good time with the fans. Did they play into the shipping aspect both onscreen and off? Of course they did! What writer worth their salt would have passed up such a perfect opportunity? But to me, it didn’t feel malicious. It felt like P’Dome was just having fun and giving Polcas a little nod. I almost feel like it would have been more strange if he hadn’t.

People certainly don’t have to like bromances, but it’s like We Are all over again where people were saying its very existence was indicative of the fall of the genre as we know it. And that’s just utterly ridiculous. This isn’t a queer story where the queerness was censored. In fact, there were explicit queer themes throughout. This is just a platonic love story and a lot of people who may not be interested in romantic relationships have found immense value in that.

Like I said in my tags, P’Aof is the Director of Content Production at GMMTV, meaning he is literally the one in charge of what content is being produced, and I’m choosing to trust the gay Thai man who has dedicated his career to this. He has such a passion for telling queer stories. Why would he stop now?

But like you said, it’s become hip to hate on GMMTV. And look, I don’t like corporations either, but let’s not pretend like GMMTV isn’t really fucking gay. Because they are. This is not a company that has ever shied away from explicitly queer content and is actually making more of it than ever before, so I’m not going to fault them for adding a few shows for the straights too. And if they have to make het stuff, I would much rather sit through a bromance than anything else.

I mean Jesus Christ. Peaceful Property was fun. I had fun. And it was also really good—easily my favorite offering from GMMTV all year—so if they want to make a hundred more bromances just like this, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Some people just don’t want to enjoy anything.

(And go to sleep, Pip! It’s late 😂)

[bteezxyewriter12]

Desperation

Pairing- Wooyoung x Named Reader

Word count- 4k

Includes- Wooyoung is horny and desperate, pussy eating, cum eating, cock warming, cock riding, missionary, multiple orgasms, so much fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Wooyoung Masterlist

J POV

"Please Jo, please", Wooyoung begs, looking at me with desperation, "Please can I have your cunt wrapped around my cock?"

Ok what the fuck?

This is so not what I was expecting when I came over to hang out

"Are you on crack?", I ask, genuinely confused

He's never expressed a desire to have sex with me

Ever

He's never even expressed any attraction to me so what the fuck is this?

"No I just....I can't cum", he whines, "I haven't been able to cum in like three months"

I raise my eyebrow, not believing him at all

He has many fuck buddies he can use

Staff members willingly open their legs for him at the drop of a hat

"You're telling me you haven't fucked anyone is three months?", I scoff

"I...I did but I wasn't able to cum", he tells me, "I don't know why. I stopped fucking other girls three months ago and just jerked off instead but it didn't work either"

"You've been jerking off your whole life, what do you mean it's not working?", I ask in disbelief, "You forgot how to move your hand?"

"It's not working!", he cries, his body shaking, "Please, I'm so hard, I'm so horny all the time. I need some relief. I'm going insane"

I just raise my eyebrows at how desperate he sounds

Like he's about to lose it

"Let me see", I say, not knowing what the fuck I'm doing or why

He nods, standing up from his bed and pulling his sweatpants and boxers down

I look down at his cock and gape

I had no idea he was that big

Or that thick

And I can see what he means when he's saying he's desperate

His cock is so hard, straining, his head red and leaking so much cum, it's just crying from his slit

I don't think I've ever seen a cock that hard before

"Please help me", he whimpers

"What am I supposed to do Woo?", I ask

"Just help me"

I hesitate, "A hand job?"

He shakes his head, "I need to be in a pussy. Your pussy"

I mean it's not as if I don't want that

It's not as if I haven't dreamed of this from the moment I fell in love with him

But this...this isn't him wanting me

This is him wanting to get off because he hasn't had a fuck partner in three months

This is him being desperate to cum and I'm the only one available

"Wooyoung-", I start, not sure I should do this

A hand job is one thing, hell even a blow job is one thing but actual sex....

"Please Jo", he begs, "I'll make you cum too. I'll eat your pussy first"

I raise my eyebrow

Yeah ok that's something I've been dying to see

Him between my legs

But still, this isn't a good idea

This will just make me want him more and I can't have him

"I don't know...", I hesitate

"You don't have to fuck me", he says, distress in his voice, "You...you could just cock warm me. I just...I need to feel a pussy around me"

"So call one of your girls to come over"

He shakes his head, "No. I need your pussy"

Mine?

What the hell does that mean?

"It didn't work with anyone else. I just...I want yours. See if it helps"

Well that's not romantic at all

But at least he's being up front about what he wants

"Please Jo? Please?"

"Yeah fine", I sigh

He nods, dropping to his knees, my heart racing

His fingers hook into my sweat pants, pulling them and my panties down

He helps me take off all my bottom clothes then his gaze moves to my cunt

"Pretty", he murmurs

Without warning he pulls me to him, his tongue buried and licking in my cunt

"Oooh...fff...", I stammer, pleasure exploding in my body

I move beside me, my hand leaning against the wall to keep myself from falling over

"Fuck, you taste so good" he groans, his tongue licking along my slit, between my pussy lips

Fuck, his tongue is so wet, so long, licking in a way he makes sure I can feel all of it

He moves one of my legs over his shoulder, his tongue sinking into my hole and I clench around it hard

"Mmm", he moans, pulling his tongue out then dipping back in

"Wooyoung fuck", I moan in bliss, my hand threading through his hair, the stands so soft around my fingers

One of his hands is around me, gripping my ass and squeezing as he tongue fucks me

I'm so wet, it has to be all over his face

That thought makes me blush hard, wondering if his face will be soaked when he's done and I'll see it

His tongue pulls out, sliding up and licking along my clit, using the flat of his tongue first, then moving it so the tip is massaging it

"Fuck", I cry, blinding pleasure making my body shake, "Fuck Woo. Yes baby"

As his tongue lavishes my clit in licks, his fingers push into my hole, wiggling around, making me shiver

"So fucking wet for me", he groans erotically

Just as soon as his fingers are there, they're gone

Then they're back, then out again

I don't know what he's doing but he does this a few more times, almost like he's getting his fingers or hand wet with my juice

He whines in my cunt, his mouth wrapping around my clit sucking desperately immediately

I shiver, my legs shaking at how fucking incredible it feels

Through the bliss, I hear a rhythmic wet sound, him groaning and moaning as he sucks on me

It sounds like he's jerking off

I look down to find him desperately slurping around my clit, his eyes closed like he's in heaven

Looking further down, I get so tuned on seeing that he is indeed jerking off

His hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking himself, the veins in his beautiful arm popping as he moves

His cock is glistening and I realize that he's using my pussy cream to jerk himself off

That's why he kept putting his fingers inside my cunt

He wanted to use my cream as lube

I will admit that turns me on like nothing else, making chills run up my spine

I watch him suck on me and jerk off, the bliss getting overwhelming

The next tug of my clit has me falling into my orgasm, intense pleasure exploding in my body as I cry out his name

"Wooyoung. Oh god, Wooyoung!"

His eyes open and are on mine instantly, watching me cum as he sucks me through it, his hand letting go of his dick and squeezing my ass, pushing me as close to his face as I can be

I can't, he's so fucking hot, it's mind boggling

As the pleasure fades, his eyes hold mine as his tongue moves down to my hole and slowly licks up

Pleasure enters his brown eyes as he moans, "Oh fuck, you taste so sweet princess"

His tongue keeps licking as he eats my cum, swallowing again and again

"So fucking good. God fucking damn"

I'm shocked as he cleans my pussy, not knowing what to say

When he finishes, he stands up and my face heats up at how wet his face is

His lips, his mouth, his chin and neck are glistening in my cum

He smirks, licking his lip then wiping his mouth, my legs wobbly

He takes his bottom clothes completely off then sits on his bed, half leaning on his headboard

"Please", he whimpers

"You...you didn't cum while you were jerking off?"

He shakes his head, "I told you it doesn't work. Please princess, sit on my cock. Please"

Well here goes nothing

Climbing in him, I get in his lap, him already holding his cock up for me

I'm really doing this

It's kinda surreal

Leaning on his shoulders, I lower down onto his head, taking him in, moans immediately spilling from his mouth

I push down, feeling his unbelievably hard thick cock forcing me open so pleasurably

He's so big it's almost like he's too big for me and I have to push down hard

"Fuck!", he yells, his head leaning back against the headboard, "So tight, oh my fucking god, so tight"

I go down slowly, my pussy getting wetter and clenching harder the more inches I take

He feels so fucking good, it's insane

"Oh my god, I'm gonna...", he cries as I slide down his cock more, "I'm gonna blow my load, I'm gonna-"

His nails dig into my hips as I feel his cock throb hard, warm cum shooting in my pussy as I keep taking his dick, his body shaking under me

I'm so shocked

He really just came from me getting him in

And he's not even fully in yet

"Joanne fuck, yes baby", he shouts, lifting his hips and sliding his cock fully inside me as he orgasms, "So good. Fuck so good"

I clench around him, whimpering as his head nestles against my spot, my pussy involuntarily throbbing around him

I feel so full of his cock, so full of his cum and it's completely satisfying

Of course, leave it to him to feel the best inside me

His body stills, his eyes opening, gazing on me

He lifts his hips again, like he's making sure he's buried in my pussy as deep as he can be

And what I feel is surprising

"Are you...", I say gaping, clenching purposely around him, "Still hard?"

He nods, his eyes on me as he breathes hard

"Fuck me. Please"

That really wasn't what this was supposed to happen

I was just supposed to cock warm him

"Woo-"

"Please. Please. Don't I feel good?"

"Yes", I admit

He does, he feels really good, stretching me out so satisfyingly, his fat head nestled against my spot

"Please fuck my cock", he whines, "You can cum too. Used me to cum. I...I need it. I need your pussy. I need you"

I gaze down into his eyes, seeing want swirled with desire and it turns me on more

I mean I'm already this far, fucking can't be much of a stretch

Maybe I need this

Maybe I just need to fuck him once and I can get over these feelings for him

Probably not, but I'm already sitting on his cock, I might as well go all the way

I nod and he smiles his beautiful smile that takes my breath away and it's so not fair

His hands move up from my hips, pushing my shirt up my body as he sits up

I move my arms through the sleeves, letting him take it off, followed by my bra then I get his shirt off

I gently push him back and get my first close up look of my best friend shirtless

And I choke on air

Broad muscular chest, abs cut into his stomach, the tattoo on his ribs so fucking sexy

I slide my hands slowly down his body, starting from his shoulders, to his chest then to his abs, just feeling how soft and warm his skin is

I move my fingers to his tattoo, slowly tracing the words, his skin shivering under my touch, making me smile softly

"Fuck", he murmurs and when I look up at him, he's biting his lip, looking at me like how I must be looking at him

Like I'm everything he's ever wanted

But that can't be right

He's probably just shocked at seeing me naked is all

It's then I noticed his hands moving all over my body, touching my hips, his fingers trailing up my body, running over my sides, making my skin tingle

He cups my boobs, softly squeezing, his thumbs running over my nipples making me wetter on his dick

"You're fucking beautiful", he murmurs, shocking the fuck out of me, "Fucking perfect"

I blush but remind myself that it's just because he's never seen me naked before

And the fact that he wouldn't tell me I'm ugly

Wooyoung can be dense but he's not mean

"You're beautiful Woo", I tell him, his eyes meeting mine, his cheeks turning pink

"Ride me?", he asks shyly

Which is completely the opposite of the way he acts around me

He's always loud, at times obnoxious, funny, confident

Never shy

It's something completely new

I just nod, putting my hands flat on his chest, then moving my legs, sliding up his cock

The drag of his dick feels so good, sending shivers up my spine, my pussy desperately clenching on him to keep him in

"Fuck", he whimpers, his eyes glued to my pussy

When I get to his head, I squeeze hard, then push down, the feeling of his cock opening me up so delicious

"Woo", I moan, bottoming him out, his head rubbing my spot, making my body shudder

I move slowly at first, up and down his length, moving just a bit faster with each bounce

"Yes baby. Feels so good", he groans, his hands gripping my hips hard

I get a good pace going, bouncing on his extremely hard dick, enjoying the way he feels moving in my pussy

I slide my hands down to his abs, leaning on them as I slip up and down, moving my hips in a circle as I take him all in, grinding on his head

Each rub of his head against my spot zaps bliss and lightening up my spine and I can't help but softly moan his name often

"Wooyoung"

I increase my speed, leaning back on his legs, throwing my head back the more the bliss gets

"Fuck, I didn't know you knew how to ride cock", he murmurs, watching me move on him

I nod, "Yeah, I do"

Most guys are terrible at getting me to cum so I always ride them after a few other positions to make sure I cum too

I've gotten very good at it

"This pussy is so pretty, swallowing my cock like this", he whimpers, "So fucking wet, creaming my cock so fucking much. I didn't know a pussy could cream like this"

"Do you like it?", I ask, closing my eyes, falling into the pleasure he's giving me, my pussy spasming around him harder

"Love it", he answers, "Are you always this wet?"

I shake my head, "Not this much"

I do get wet but I'm completely drenched now, so much so that the squelching sound my pussy is making as I fuck his cock is so fucking loud

It's never been this loud before

"It's just for me?"

I nod, "Yeah Woo. You make me this wet. You make me this turned on"

"Fuck", he murmurs, my cunt choking the life from his cock

I'm so close, just a few more bounces

"Woo, I'm gonna cum", I mumble, moving my legs as fast as I can, riding him like I've never ridden anyone before

"Please cum", he begs quietly, "Wanna feel you cum so bad"

His begging with the next bounce does it and I explode all over his cock, shouting his name, the ecstasy washing over me

"Wooyoung", I moan, not knowing which way is up

All I can do is ride the pleasure, my hips rocking on his cock, his head massaging my spot and keeping me in bliss longer

"Yes, oh fuck, you feel so good! Princess I can't...it feels...fuck", he chokes out, pushing his hips up, making sure he's buried deep inside me

My whole body shakes and I have to lean forward, my hands on his abs as I ride it out on his amazing cock

As the pleasure slowly leaves, I slow down my rocking until I'm finished, so out of breath

That was a fucking amazing orgasm

Before I can say anything, he sits up, pulls me against him and rolls us over

He moves on top of me, my legs moving around his waist on their own, his soft, warm, sweaty skin against mine

It feels so fucking good

He looks down at me with an unreadable expression as he gazes into my eyes

I can't tear my gaze from his intense one, wondering what he's thinking

His finger runs along my cheek as he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a mind altering kiss

My entire body floods with fire, every atom alight and awake

I feel dizzy, my head spinning as I kiss him back, never wanting it to end

My arms move around his neck, holding him close as he pushes his cock back inside me

Burying inside in one stroke, he grinds against me as his tongue moves in my mouth, deepening the kiss

I'm in total heaven, never wanting this to end

He kisses me silly, his hips pulling back, the drag of his cock sending tingles up my spine

He snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding back in, the tip rubbing my spot

I moan in his mouth, clenching on his dick tightly

As he moves, he makes sure he goes in deep, his pelvis rubbing my clit, sending stars into my vision

His arm leans next to my head, his other hand softly playing with my boobs as he thrusts faster

His lips separate from mine but I shake my head, my hand moving to his cheek, "No Woo, kiss me. Don't stop"

He smiles softly, his smile so fucking dazzling, then his lips are back on mine, kissing me passionately

I begin moving my hips, meeting his thrusts, my arms wrapping around him, my hands on his strong back

His muscles move under my palms, his skin soft and sweaty

It does nothing but turn me on more

We move together, my legs tightening around his waist as the pleasure becomes more and more

We both moan, clinging onto each other and I never want this to stop

I want to keep his warm sweaty skin against mine, want to keep running my fingers in his soft hair, keep his lips against mine

That would be my dream come true

"Princess", he murmurs between kisses, his hand taking one of my hands, lacing our fingers and holding my hand firmly, "Princess, fuck, so good"

"So good Woo", I agree, kissing him, the feeling of his hand in mine so right

His cock plunges in and out, the feel driving me crazy, the bliss almost too much

I'm close, my pussy gripping and choking his length

"You're gonna make me cum princess", he groans breaking the kiss, his face moving into my neck, his hips rolling into mine, plunging his cock in at a dizzying speed, "Oh fuck, you're gonna make me cum"

"Wooyoung", I cry, ecstasy crashing over me as another mind blowing orgasm over takes me

I can't think, I can't tell which way is up, all I know is I'm in incredible pleasure, screaming his name

His hips fuck harder into me as I cum, yelling, "I'm coming. Fuck, princess, I'm coming, fuck!"

His cock barrels in, throbbing hard as his warm cum fills me for a second time, his hips pressing against mine, keeping his length inside me

My pussy can't help but pulse around him, milking his cock for all his cum

"Yes, Wooyoung, fuck", I moan as he moans, "Joanne, princess, so good baby, fuck, fuck, fuck"

I finish first, coming back down to earth, holding him as he finishes, running my fingers in his hair and kissing his shoulder

He shivers against me, lifting his head, his gorgeous brown eyes on mine through his wet sweaty hair

He smiles, then leans down, kissing me so softly and in this moment I'm utterly happy

He moves off me, laying down next to me, cuddling into me, his face nuzzling in my neck and I'm surprised

I thought he'd just get up and want to hang like nothing happened

"Mmm princess", he murmurs, his arms wrapping around me, holding me firmly against him and I just can't help but turn into his embrace, snuggling into him too

If he wants to cuddle, I'm going to take it

He sighs contently against my neck, his fingers running in my hair and it feels so good

"Baby", he sighs, "I love you"

I stop breathing, wondering if he knows what he's saying

Wondering if he's joking

Wondering if he knows he just upended my world

"Princess?", he says, a nervous tick to his voice

"Woo...what...what are you doing?", I ask

"I don't understand-", he starts

"Are you playing a joke on me?", I ask quietly, hoping he's not because that would be unforgivable, "Are you just saying-"

"No!", he exclaims, lifting his head, his eyes on mine, "I'm not playing a joke! I would never do that"

"So...you...mean you actually....", I trial off, almost afraid to believe it

"Love you?", he asks, his fingers trailing down my cheek softly, "Yeah Jo, I'm stupidly in love with you"

My heart skips a beat, it taking a few seconds for it to sink in

"Yeah...why do you think I was begging it to be you?", he asks softly, "If I wanted to fuck, I could of gone to the club and picked any girl. I could of called any fuck buddy like you suggested"

I mean yes, he could have

"I just...I couldn't be with anyone else. Anytime I tried, I just wanted you, kept thinking about you and my dick...wouldn't work with anyone else. I couldn't get hard with anyone else. And if I did...I didn't stay hard long enough for sex"

My eyes widen at that

He's never had a problem fucking anyone else before

"I'd just....lost interest because it wasn't you"

"You're kidding", I gape

He shakes his head, "No princess. Once I realized I love you, no other girl did it for me or held my interest. And yeah while I was desperate tonight, I wanted just you. I knew it would only work with you. It had to be you"

Me

I'd have never thought it would be me

Or it'd be more than sex

"I just...I didn't know how to tell you", he says shyly, breaking eye contact and looking down, "And right now, having you in my arms, finally cuddling with me, it felt right and I just said it"

I lift his face to mine, stroking his cheek softly, looking into his eyes

"I love you Wooyoung", I tell him, his eyes widening as a smile forms on his face, "I have been in love with you for so long you don't even know. I thought you'd never see me"

He shakes his head, "I did see you princess. I just didn't know how to tell you how I felt until tonight"

I smile, "I'm glad you did baby. All I ever wanted was you"

"You have me princess", he assures me

"You have me baby", I tell him, "I love you"

"I love you baby", he whispers, his lips against mine in a sweet loving kiss and I melt into him

After, we settled back in each other's arms under his blanket, my fingers running in his hair

"Mmmm princess", he coos, against my neck, "Tomorrow I have a photo shoot. You're coming with me right? I know you don't have work tomorrow"

I giggle, "Yeah baby, I'll come with you"

"Mm hmm. And you'll come to more performances? I need my girlfriend watching me on stage and waiting backstage for me to shower me in kisses and tell me how good I did"

I laugh, kissing his soft lips, "Of course my high maintenance baby"

"And I need to be with you every night, to see you and fuck you and cuddle you and tell you I love you and sleep with you in my arms", he continues, "It's non-negotiable"

I smile, so fucking happy, "That can definitely be arranged baby"

"Good", he says, snuggling closer, "We can start tonight. You're staying with me"

"Yes sir", I laugh, holding him tighter

"I love you princess", he whispers, kissing my neck

"I love you baby", I answer

I close my eyes, ready to fall asleep in my best friend and boyfriend's arms

[frodopotter7]

The memories of Edwin Payne

(Or an interactive fanfiction)

Note: I had the headcanon that Edwin‘s notebook contains all his personal writing including the writings from his life as an Edwardian boy. So I wrote those entries in his notebook. Now this book is obviously all of Edwin‘s personal thoughts and I thought it would be fun to do a collaboration. So if you are a writer yourself or creative in any other way, feel free to use this entries as a starting point for another fanfiction. For example Charles finding the notebook and reading it or Crystal reading it or anything else. The only rule that I set is that you clearly mark my text and tag me, because first of all it was a lot of effort to write it and secondly I want to see what cool things you came up with. And if you don’t want to creatively interact with this fanfiction, then you can obviously just enjoy it by reading it.

Summary: Edwin Payne‘s most treasured item is his notebook, because it contains so much private information that no one else knows about him. Not even Charles. Including the struggles of a posh, gay, autistic Edwardian boy and his times before hell, in hell and shortly after hell.

Triggers: bullying, implied suicide, dolls

Shipping: Payneland, but you could also include other shipping in your part

The song that I thought of while writing:

One of Edwin’s most treasured objects was definitely his notebook. He had it all the time and he used it for every case they had. It meant a lot to him, since it was with him when he died. It was with him in hell and it was with him in his detective career. The reason why he never gave it to anyone, not even Charles, was that it had been with him even as a child. Well, back then he had several notebooks, but as he died every personal writing of his got transferred into it. The notebook always had enough pages and was still not getting thicker and his pen was always full of ink. And still even though it contained so many different notes, Edwin navigated through it without any problems. It was his own writing after all. His family sigil was carved into the black front cover and the word ‘Payne’ was written underneath it.

If anyone would open it and tried to start from the beginning, he would be greeted with Edwin’s signature under the printed words. ‘Family member:’ After that the handwriting would be harder to read. Scribbly, crossed out spelling mistakes and spilled ink from a little boy, who was writing for the first time. If you manage to identify the words it would read:

1905

Greetings,

my name is Edwin Payne. I am the only child of the family Payne. My father says, that mother wanted more children, but just failed every other time. You probably have heard about my family’s name. The family with the best lawyers of England. When I’m grown up, I will be a lawyer too. Lawyers are like detectives says my father. I like that. I like detectives.

My nanny told me to interact more with others. Why would I need to talk if there is no one to talk to anyways? My parents are often absent and my nanny is just not understanding me. My father says that I am too slow for my age. My motion skills too clumsy. My spoken words only contain information from detective books and I cannot properly respond to people yet. I know a lot of novels by heart though. Others just don’t seem to like talking about crimes as much as I do. Father sometimes lets me have a look in his older cases. They are interesting.

We visited a doctor again today, because of my slow development. We visit him quite often. Actually since I can remember. I don’t feel sick. He says there is nothing wrong with me. Still I know that something is wrong. I overreacted at loud noises. A lot of things stress me out.

1906

I haven’t writing about Cordelia Primrose Surname-von-Hovercraft. She is annoying, loud and a restless soul. She runs around the house and breaks rules just to get the attention. She is a bit younger than me, but that doesn’t justify her actions. I don’t like her. Although sometimes she be helpful. Like the time she stole the biscuit jar and gave me one of the special biscuits. They had to expel one of her nannies for this. But Cordelia had plenty nannies anyways. No one stays long with her. I had my nanny since I was born. I don’t like changes. Cordelia sometimes scares me with ghost stories. She says she would see them and that my fortune says that I will die a painful and early death. I don’t believe in this unscientific nonsense.

I take piano lessons now. It’s is fun. My mother seems to enjoy it. It is somehow the only way to get her attention for me.

Additionally to my regular private lessons I go to school now. Simon obviously needs to be in my class as well. I don’t like him. He bores me and he is too clingy. And sometimes he says mean things to me.

I had an outburst in class. Everything was just so loud and I was frustrated. The teacher hit my finger with the ruler and send me in the naughty corner. I don’t see why I get punished, when the other boys are clearly the distraction. Overall I am a good student. So it will probably not affect my grades.

My favorite subject is Latin and literature. I love books and translating old languages. It is like solving a code or a riddle. I don’t like maths, since it is all just numbers and no words.

1907

I had another outburst in class after Simon tried to touch me. He kept tapping my arm and I don’t like that. The teacher called a nurse, but I was too overwhelmed to respond to any of her questions to my health. I wanted to go home and I told her that again and again, but she didn’t understand. They called a priest. He said something in Latin. I think, it must have been biblical words. I tried to focus on translating them, but there was so much panic around me that I barely focused on anything. But I managed to calm myself after what felt like hours due to exhaustion.

My parents had a talk with the priest. He says that I am possessed by a demon. So now he straps me to a table and mumbled something in Latin again and again once a month or whatever I have an outburst. The robes around my wrist hurt. I am afraid. It is scary to know that there is something inside of me.

1908

I hate being possessed. Although I start to doubt that I have been in the first place. I did some research in the library and the real demonology books aren’t describing my symptoms. Even Cordelia, who usually always tells spooky stories, agrees with me. She said, if I was possessed she would have been the first one to know. She is a mystery to me.

1909

Today I saw a nice looking man across the street. I told my nanny that he looks like a basket full of oranges. My father uses that term a lot when he talks about young women, so I thought it is just a term to use if you think someone looks nice. She gasped and hit me lightly with the newspaper. It didn’t hurt but I didn’t understand what I was doing wrong. She told me that a man cannot say that to another man. I guess the saying is reserved for women then.

1910

I started to mask my uncomfortable feelings in public. It is difficult, but it helps. My parents and the priest both think that I am healed.

1911

I got called a Mary Ann for the first time. I asked my nanny and she started to mumble to herself how she must have failed. I told her that she did a really great job, since I would consider myself very well behaved and educated. She ignored me and told me to not tell my parents. How should I tell them if they are never there in the first place?

I did some research again, which mainly was asking Simon. I know, getting down on his level is a hard sacrifice. He told me that a Mary Ann is a boy who behaves like a girl and isn’t manly enough so they love other men. I thought about that for a long time. What is it about me that makes me a Mary Ann?

The writing in the book started to get better and appeared way more elegant. You could find little drawings here and there. Edwin was quite a good and realistic artist. Drawings of flowers, buildings, his nanny, his mother or Sherlock Holmes.

1912

Mother is constantly coughing loudly. It is irritating. Not even cocaine will help. They don’t let me in her room. They fear I would catch it too. Not that I was ever close to her before.

Mother is in a special hospital now. She took the train far away in a hospital in the mountains. No one ever returns from there. I know it. Everyone does. I will not see her again.

Mother died of tuberculosis. I miss her, I guess. I don’t know what I miss. It is a change. I hate changes.

1913

Father is sending me to a boarding school for boys. He says it’s for my education. I know, he just wants to get ride of me.

I hate the new school. Simon is here and people are still calling me a Mary Ann. Simon started to join them. I guess he sees it as a new opportunity to mock me.

I take fencing lessons now. It is nice, since it is not required any sort of touch with other boys. Nothing that I can be blamed for.

1914

I found a hideout in the school attic. It is a great place to read in peace.

The world has started a war. It worries me. They tell us that we are save in the school. But in the end all you can do is pray.

I came back home on Christmas. My nanny was gone. Father said they would be no need for her any longer, since I am in school now anyway. He looked like he knew something, but wasn’t going to tell me.

1915

The next page had some blood drops on its pages.

I want to go home. I want to be back in my room with my detective books. I want to be healed from this darkness inside of me. My nose is bleeding from another attack by the other boys. They started to get more violent now. Simon isn’t joining them, but he watches.

I came home on Christmas, but it wasn’t my home anymore. Just a house. My father didn’t speak a word. I asked him, if it was about the war and he looked up towards me. I could feel his cold gaze from across the table. He took out a letter and slammed it on the table. It was from my headteacher. I was confused. I am class best and the best behaved student in class? The only reason why I get to stand in the naughty corner is if I got caught reading in my comics or books. In my defense I am usually already finished with the exercises if I read in class. What could possibly be a problem with me? The letter was about the other boys calling me Mary Ann. And that they didn’t wanted a boy like that in their school. That I should stop whatever was wrong with me. My father told me in his absent voice, that he was not having a son like that either. He had exchanged letters with the headmaster for quite some time now and I didn’t seem to get better. I asked him that I had no idea. He interrupted me as always. Told me that the only way to make me a man would be to send me to war. I started to cry and he continued holding a speech about heroism and that his generation had understood this so much better than mine. I am too young for war, he knows that too. He told me that the only thing rescuing my life is my good grades. He sees potential in me as a lawyer. He has talked to the Surnames-von-Hovercrafts they agreed that I should marry their daughter as soon as possible. I mean I knew that I would be married to Cordelia one day, but not already when I turn 16. That’s only some months away.

As the train brought me back to the boarding school and as I saw my father standing in the doorway of the house with his usual expressionless face, I knew that this was the last time I would see him and that he wished to rather have no son than me. I just knew it.

1916

Simon stole my hat. I wouldn’t mention this minor form of his bullying, if it hadn’t been a special hat. My mother and I bought it, when her disease hadn’t been noticeable. It was too large back then, but it suits me now. Or rather suited. I don’t think I will see it again as Simon comes up with the best ways to either destroy or hide it. I cried about it. Childhood is over, but honestly I don’t think it ever started in the first place at least not for me.

The numbness is spreading inside my body. I think about the military and the forced marriage daily. I am too young for this. I cannot even properly cope in a classroom. How am I supposed to cope in the war? My hands are to soft. My brain is too precious. Please, spear me. They won’t. It is just a question of time.

I went to the lake today. It is spring and still fairly cold, but I went inside non the less. It was cold. Ice cold. I went under water and yelled out some poetic nonsense. I thought about staying under water. Turning into Ophelia. But I reminded myself, that this is something a coward would do. A Mary Ann. I would proof everyone’s suspicions as correct. Scared to live. Scared to die. I got out of the water. My gaze landed on my clothes and the letter. My father had written me that the marriage would be held in some days, since I am 16 now. I ripped the paper in half and tossed it into the ocean. Letting the water destroy the writing on the paper. Of course this would make nothing undone. I would still need to marry. I would still need to go into the military. I would still need to die. I am frightened. The other boys seem unbothered. They laugh and play like the world isn’t ending around us. Well, their world is probably not ending anyways. They will live. Their parents are rich after all. They have the privilege. I would have had this privilege as well, but they took it from me by putting this name on me. I took it from myself with my impure thoughts.

Cordelia sent me a telegram that just read that I would need to be careful as death was approaching me in the worst way. I hate her for that. As if I wouldn’t know that. As if I wouldn’t know that I needed to go into the army soon. Not a single word about our forced wedding. I thought we had always agreed to both be against it. But then again she isn’t even trying to love me. Not that I would try. Not anymore. I tried when I was younger, because I was told to. But Cordelia has just no idea how to react appropriately to a gentleman. Her behavior makes it hard to believe that she is from such a high rank.

I saw Simon with a weird book today. He told me it is from his brother and that it is about demons. I told him that this was total nonsense and that he should get a grip on reality. He didn’t spoke to me again after that. Weird for someone who is as annoying as him. I am going to put my notebook in the pocket of my sleeping clothes tonight just to make sure Simon cannot steal it. I have a bad feeling in my stomach. My heart is aching for absolutely no reasons. I am afraid as I try to sleep tonight and the worst thing is that it is irrational. I am going to die alone, this is all my head produces right now.

?

Now every page was covered with blood at the side of the pages and sometimes even on the writing itself. There were no drawings to be found anymore. Just drawings for the escape plan and hierarchy of hell.

I don’t know if my dates are correct. I don’t know how time works in here. I don’t even know how long I am able to write without this thing waking up. This thing with the many doll heads. This spider like creature that kills me every time I move or make a sound. I sometimes wonder what happened to the other boys.

I try to change my perspective. It is hard when you are in so much pain. My brain learned to be sharper now. I can think and act quicker. I need to see this as one of my old detective games or as the times that I had to run away from my bullies. Everything is achievable with logic. Although I would say after being in hell for such a long time that might be a delusional optimism.

1988

I think I made it out fairly well. I am still uncontrollably shaky when I hear any noises. I fear that this demon might comeback to get me. I am back in the old school attic where they strapped me down on the table and sacrificed me. I learned a lot from hell and from the books in the attic. Like the basic ghost rules or that my death and the death of my bullies were labeled an act of god. I compared hell to the war a lot. After all I would say that hell was definitely the worse death. Much longer torture than war would have been. In the war you die just one death after all. But maybe a Mary Ann like me would have ended up there anyway.

I finally was brave enough to get out of the attic. I figured out that the year is 1988 from a newspaper that one of the teachers was reading. 72 years of torture. I wonder how often I was torn apart in this time. But I shouldn’t think about that. That reminds me of the pain and of the times when I tried to count my own corpses. The school hasn’t changed a lot. The teachers are less violent, but still rather strict. They have more lower class people here now. I can see it by the ways they behave and by the clothes they wear. That is especially confusing for me. So rude, so explicit, so freely. It is not a boarding school anymore. Luckily that gives me the freedom to have my peace after dark.

I started to watch a specific boy. I am not a stalker. At least I wouldn’t use this therm for a ghost. He is just interesting for my scientific research about this time. The boy has a darker skin. Some children in this school have this skin and get picked on, but somehow he isn’t the one who gets pick on. He wears very interesting clothes. Especially the golden earring. Something I would just see a woman wear, but it fits him so much better than it could ever fit a woman. His clothing is mostly black, though I would say that the red shirt he once worn fits him best. His lips have always a smile on them and he cracks loud jokes. But I see the sadness in his eyes. I recognize my own sadness in his eyes. His name is Charles Rowland. I heard the teacher yell it at him. A little trouble maker in class. He seems to never be able to focus. Maybe he is also possessed like I was when I was a young boy. But after experiencing hell, I doubt that the priest back then had any idea what a demon was really like.

The following page is filled with a very realistic drawing of Charles, who is smiling so iconically and his eyes seem to be filled with emptiness and some smaller doodles of Charles playing Cricket or talking to others.

Charles Rowland. His name repeats itself in my brain. I am not obsessive. He is just the best way of distraction I can find in this school. Distraction from the fear of hell. The fear of death coming back for me. Analysis and observation keep me away from those horrible thoughts. I have less panicle outbursts since I started my observation of this boy. Although when I am alone at night in the school attic I often start to cry in silence and my breathing races again.

Charlie. That is what his friends call him. It doesn’t suit him. Charles is his name. Not Charlie. I don’t like his friends. They are rude. They remind me of the boys in my old life. I wonder why I like Charles then. Maybe because he points out obvious misbehavior of the group even if they mock him.

The most interesting time is when Charles thinks that he is alone. That is mostly in the dressing room, when he gets ready for Cricket. As a short notion he is a fabulous cricket player, but he always waits till the other boys have changed and are out of the room. He pretends to struggle with his shoes or shorts. Even if that sometimes means that it is getting really dark outside. His smiles fades completely then. I saw the scars on his body. I feel bad for even looking at him in that state. Seeing a boy my age without a shirt is clearly inappropriate and it triggers the Mary Ann inside of me, but sometimes my detective senses is taking over too much. Especially after I saw all the scars and bruises. You don’t need to be that clever to understand that his family probably his father beats him. Although beating may be a too mild verb for those scars. I appreciate the absence of my father when I see him. My father and teachers used to beat me as well. With a ruler or the flat hand though not as much as my classmates. And after being through hell, that all seems like nothing in comparison. But even in my time no father would have mistreated their sons like that. I speak from a higher class, maybe it had been different in the lower class, but they were happy if their sons made it through childhood without a disease or scars so they could work properly. Although maybe they did this with the child workers. Is Charles secretly a child worker? Is there still child labour? Why would someone bruise their son like that if their son could provide a great income for the family? Or how many things was Charles doing something seriously wrong?

1989

His friends talked about me last night. They had cricket practice until the sun had settled and on the way back home I heard them talking about a school ghost. The janitor must have heard my weeping last night. My hysteria yesterday was indeed a lot. Too much to handle for myself. I think I was shaking till dawn. This vivid fear must have crossed over into the living world. They told Charles, that this had scared the janitor and he quitted. Then they told him of Mary Ann who was sacrificed 1916 and killed all the boys that night. Charles questioned this logically, since it was an all boys school, so there probably was never a girl. I certainly appreciate his thinking, but this just triggered a lot in me. Being called a Mary Ann even after all this years. Being remembered only as a Mary Ann. Being blamed as the murderer. Those boys clearly had no idea of what the term Mary Ann actually meant, but it just triggered me so badly that I started to panic again. My panic must have bursted through the worlds again, because the boys suddenly turned white and ran home. Charles stayed a little longer. Looking in my direction. I know he couldn’t see me, but maybe he could sense my panic more than the other boys could. Again we are much a like if you observe closely. After this strange second of him just starting into nothing and me starting back, he ran away as well.

I need to leave this place. But I am too scared. Too scared of the outside world. Too scared of the changes.

I wanted to leave today, be brave enough. But I heard Charles ‘friends’ talking bad about him behind his back. How weird he behaved. They had no idea about his scars. Then again if I would be his friend, which is rather unlikely, I wouldn’t confront him. I know how horrible I panic if someone says the word Mary Ann, I imagine that it is a similar situation for him with his scars. I stayed. I don’t know why. Again irrational fears.

I wish I would have left. I saw Charles defending a boy who got bullied by his so called friends. I felt tears in my eyes, because this was the kind of protection I had wished for when I was alive. I definitely feel too many emotions at the moment or maybe it just feels like more emotions because I was mostly numb in hell. The younger boy could escape with only a few bruises, but his friends still were in this blood lust. In this moment of still wanting the fun even though there was nothing funny about the action in the first place. I have seen those faces before. The faces of murders who only realize their actions when it is too late. They stoned him in the cold water. The water of the lake in which I once thought about killing myself a long time ago. I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them, but I had no idea what I could do. I am too new in this ghostly body. I tried desperately, but I ended up only pausing them by holding them back for a short time. It gave Charles time to ran away to the school building. He hid in the attic. I wanted to help him. The least I could do was by giving him a light. He was in a state where a floating light probably was his least problem. It turned out that he could see me and that was the moment I knew it was too late for him anyway. It was a strange sensation to properly speak again. I had never spoken in hell and in my ghost form I had only weeped. Hearing my own voice was odd. I was shortly surprised that I still knew how to use my voice. Reading to him from one of my old comics in the attic calmed him and gave me the opportunity to adapt a bit to talking for a longer period of time. He stayed with me, which honestly stresses me out a lot. I am not made to be a friend. I have been isolated for too long to be a good friend. I have been in hell for so long that I am probably a horrible person myself. I haven’t talked in so long. I am just adapting to just have conversations, how should I teach him to be a ghost, if I haven’t figured it out myself? Even if that all would not be the case and even if we would not be from different times, still I never have been good with other people. I never had friends. The only person a bit close to me was Cordelia and she was always more a sister for me. And still he chooses a stranger his own afterlife. From my observations I would blame his intentional behavior. He sees something and does something without thinking long. Although this decision might be too big for only this explanation.

I really can’t understand why Charles is choosing me over his afterlife. I just read to him once and gave him a lantern. He barely knows me and now he follows me everywhere. I showed him some ghost tricks and somehow I can really impress him by everything I say or do. But he made me smile for the first time in my life. So I am impressed by him as well. Whenever I read in this book, I just tell him that I like to keep record of things. That I would plan were we can go next as we no longer can stay in the school and waking around without plan is never good for too long. It is partly a lie I really am making a plan. But I do this in my head rather than writing it down, but it is an excuse for not letting him see my private writing. I tell him that it is rather boring planning and he believes me. I feel bad for lying to him, but if he would know about my past he surely would leave me and I would be all alone again.

We mirror traveled together to London. Charles felt a bit sick after it. He seems to still need to adapt to his ghost body. I was a bit overwhelmed with his sudden mood shift. I have been too selfish all my life and in my death so much that I don’t know how to help. He didn’t notice or he just didn’t say anything. But we had to mirror travel, it was too dangerous in the school after Charles died. Besides Charles is a talented and athletic boy, he will get the grip of it. In addition death could have caught me in the attic. I didn’t tell him why I am on the run. Not yet. I fear that once I tell him that I was in hell, he will think I am evil. Maybe that is true. Maybe I am just doomed. I feel like it was my fault that he died. I watched him so long with this incorrect feelings of mine. Maybe this cursed him like in a Greek tragedy. For now I just want to make sure that Charles is not alone. I had been alone for too long to know how dreadful it can get and he is much more social than I am.

We visited his family in London. A real rural area. His mother was crying over the loss of her son. His father just seemed to see it as a natural thing to happen to those who aren’t careful enough. I made a mental note to haunt this man every year to Charles’ death day without telling Charles. The school, once again, swept the problem under the carpet and made it appear like an accident. How can someone possibly stone himself while being in the water and then run in an attic? No clever detective would see that as the solution. I said that out loud and it turned out that Charles and I both share a passion for detective stories. That was something to make him smile. But he started to cry again as he saw how desperate his mother and sister were. He hugged me, which was a lot. I never have been hugged before and at first it felt like this demon from hell was gripping around me again. I froze in place and pushed him away in a reflex. Charles stopped. I didn’t tell him about the hell part, but I told him that I am not used to hugs and touches in general. He took it in surprisingly well, but for his own sake I added that I might could get used to it. I hope that I am able to get used to it. Charles sees it as something that he can teach me.

It was just a matter of time till my hell trauma wouldn’t be able to keep hidden anymore. We were in an abandoned apartment, since we both are not staying out the whole night. We don’t have to sleep but it is just too awkward. He usually talks through the whole night and I like his voice even with his weird way of talking. He likes me reading to him. He even carries all my books for me. But as we explored the abandoned house, I discovered an old doll. I overreacted I know. But there was just so much panic inside of me all of the sudden. My fight or flight mood was activated again. I don’t know what Charles did. I don’t know how he managed to stop me from repeating the word ‘Please spare me. I don’t belong in hell.’ I vaguely remember his hands securely holding my head and his shining dark eyes and his calm voice, but I don’t remember his words. He was confused by my sudden changed behavior, but he tried to not show that whole calming me. Once he had calmed me, I obviously had to tell him the truth. I gave him the opportunity to leave me again, but he stayed and he understood, said that this is probably the worst thing someone could have been through. We didn’t speak the rest of the night, but we continued the next day as if nothing had happened.

It is harder to continue my writing as Charles could find out and I don’t want him to know about this. He is so lively. He is jumping and sprinting around, while telling me things and just appears from behind. I cannot risk that. We have a detective agency now. We don’t want that others have their deaths so badly twisted as ours. Another reason was that he had introduced me to a game called Clue, which is basically a detective game, and then we both came up with the idea of starting our own detective agency. He is the brawn and I am the brain. It fits perfectly. We even managed to get a abandoned flat in London. I probably have no time to continue this memoirs, but I will make sure to use my notebook as a case lock book from now own.

I will never tell him about the real meaning of the word Mary Ann. I will never tell him that I had been in the school for a whole year and not just shortly before his death. I will never tell him that I have watched and observed him. I appreciate him now too much. I don’t ever want to lose him.

After that only a whole lot of cases and notes and questions on them followed.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

I've just been trying to plug away at this damned chapter again, but...I think I have it finished. I just need to edit it. (Because my eyes have refused to let me do so as of yet.) Tossing this out into the void. (For context, Elisindir is Elenwen's son and the crew currently has him in the Bloodworks. He came to them.)

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @hircines-hunter @bostoniangirl21 @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

@changelingsandothernonsense @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus @vivifriend @theoneandonlysemla

@inkysqueed @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark and anyone else who would like to participate <3

Galmar’s bleeding hand reaches through the door to grab hold of Elisindir’s tunic as he rips him forward, slamming his body against the bars. “How would you know?”

“Because it is always her. It always has been, and it always will be.”

“Horseshit.”

“Tell me. What did she take from you?”

Galmar roars, tilting Elisindir’s head back and bringing it forward again. Metal rings through the room, and stars dance in his vision, the ferric taste of blood coating his mouth as he shakes his head. More pain, a shower of stars. He swallows and instantly regrets it as his stomach roils when his blood hits the emptiness there. When was the last time he had a decent meal?

“Violence will get you nowhere, Stone-Fist.” Elisindir cautions. “And it doesn’t make you any better than her.”

“Like hell it doesn’t, and fuck if I care anymore.”

“But you should.”

Galmar’s lips twitch, bearing up to show his teeth in a grim smile. “Give me one reason I should not end your miserable existence right now.”

“Because I can help you, and I know things.” Elisindir looks into his eyes unflinching. At one point in time his mother told him to show weakness was to see death. It is perhaps the only useful lesson she ever gave him. “For example, you have a spy here.”

“More lies.” He pulls his head back once more, preparing to hit him again. “I think I would know if—”

“Galmar, stop.” Ulfric suddenly comes into view, followed by Dahlia.

Of all the times that they would choose to come down here of course it would have to be now. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose slowly before letting Elisindir go. The Altmer slumps into a heap on the floor.

“Who is the spy?” Ulfric’s eyes narrow into thin slits as he steps up to the cell. Bravado, pure bravado. If Dahlia or even Galmar knew how much his stomach ached to heave its contents onto the floor, they’d both try to coddle him—or at least Dahlia would. He is already in deeper than he can swim, so what harm can it do for him to drown? At least he will do it standing up and without cowardice. “Speak for I have little patience for traitors and even less for those who would protect them.”

[nurm-says-hurm]

Reblogging to say I enjoy MCSM life way more when I don't pour negative energy into seeing a ship I don't like (Petra x Lukas, Axel x Olivia, anyone in that little OG treehouse trio really, they give solely platonic for me because that's my headcanon and my opinion. Just because I see Petra and Lukas as siblings/cousins dynamic, it doesn't mean everyone else will.)

When I see it on my feed I go "hm" and move on and my world looks like this when I do:

I know i said I wouldnt say anymore more of the matter but this was in my drafts and i thought i posted it

(Rambling below)

I think Romesse is a very interesting ship and can be explored in several dynamics and that's fun especially the fact that Romeo is fucking pathetic /lovingly

I like Axden, Aiden is a wide eyed wet cat and Axel is large dog that enjoyed the swim like you feel?

I'm also a multi shipper. I like Jesstra, I like Petra×Maya. Stella×Binta, Stella×Olivia, Stella×Jesse

I love Xaragaard, Xara×Binta, Xara×Romeo in the right circumstances, (XARA×ME/MY OC BC SHES MY WIFE AND I LOVE HER but that's besides the point.)

I like thinking about how they would play out. I like the stories, the scenes, the communication, the fights that either do or don't get worked through, everything that goes into a ship to make it special.

Other people might see a ship a certain way like how some people see Xara × Romeo dynamic as like "Im romeo im big boy pants grrr" and personally not my cup of tea for that ship (I also like exploring the idea of all 3 admins being a throuple just as much as I like exploring their friendship)

Also imagining Jesstra/Jetra starting out really rocky for a while but them working through it for a healthier relationship. The complexity makes daydreaming so much more fun and more personal. Some relationships can be near effortless but a lot of relationships can be rocky

Like Romesse is definitely A LOT of adjusting and communicating and working after all thats happened. A lot of Romeo making up and trying to get ahold of his feelings and mortality like ITS A LOT

It doesn't boil down to

Jesse: Haha boyfriend :)

Romeo: Eat shit im better than you, love me *spits*

Jesse: Haha okay :')

Ship is short for relationship. It doesn't = OTP (god i havent used that word in ages)

Anyway, I'm done now. Ships are complex and I just ignore the ones I don't like and if I feel so strongly about it I'll block the tag/the account. Like OP said MCSM doesn't really have proships. Age isn't a huge part of their reality like ours (they don't spawn as babies, they spawn as a person -a noob- and nobody is related. Nobody has parents or siblings or cousins)

THIS IS NOT TARGETTED!!! THIS IS A COMMON PROBLEM!!!

There are quite literally no proships in MCSM[except obvious ones like animal x human ajd arguably old order/builders x new order/blaze rods and competitors x old builders]

Yes... even Romesse

Why?: Because depending on context, ALL SHIPS CAN BE TOXIC!!!

JESSKAS CAN BE TOXIC BECAUSE IF WRRE GETTING CRITICAL, JESSE CAN LITERALLY BE A DICK TO LUKAS IN ALL THE CHOICES!!!

JESSTRA CAN BE TOXIC BECAUSE YOU CAN BE A DICK TO PETRA, IF WERE BEIBG CRITICAL!!!!!

ALMOST EVERY SHIP IN SOME SORT OF CONTEXT CAN BE TOXIC!!!

BESIDES; SOME CHOICES YOU CAN REDEEM CHARACTERS!!!! IT'S NOT HARD TO UNDERSTAND!!!! I DONT EVEN LIKE ROMESSE YET I STILL KNOW IT'S NOT A PROSHIP!!!

ALL SHIPS NEED CONTEXT. IF THE CONTEXT IS ONE CHARACTER IS REDEEMED, AND TGE CHARACTERS ARE FINE WITH EACH OTHER, AND IS LEGAL, ITS FINE!!!! SO MANY SHIP FALL INTO THIS CATAGORY, AND THAT'S OKAY!!!

LUKXEL, AXDEN, ROMESSE, JESSKAS, JESSTRA, AND IVORREN ARE REALLY GOOD EXAMPLES!!!

THE BEST PART IS: THEY CAN BE EXES TOO, AND IT WON’T MATTER!!!

IT'S YOUR AU!!!! THERE'S NO CANON CHOICES, THERE'S NO CANON SHIPS, IT'S ALL UP TO YOU!!!!

IT'S ALL UP TO INTERPERTATION!!!!

But remember; JUST BECAUSE YOU HEADCANON OR THINK IT DOESN'T MEAN IT'S CANON!!!!

I USE TO BE THOSE PEOPLE WHO WOULD BE HYPOCRITICAL ABOUT PEOPLE'S SHIPS, I'LL ADMIT!!! AND IT SUCKS!!!!

BUT; PEOPLE CAN CHANGE!!! And I hope it's what some people in this community do♡

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[leafatlaw]

s3 shassie is quite literally making me mad. What do you mean Shawn instantly believed that Lassie didn’t kill someone? Why did Shawn call Lassie hot ??? Why are they so goddamn touchy ??????

[scalpelsister]

Thank you so so much @red-nightskies for doing this stunning commission of Feilan!! If you guys get the chance to, you guys should absolutely commission Emma, she will knock your socks off 🩵🩵🩵

[front-facing-pokemon]