#and then she made a story about how she wanted to correct someone’s grammar

[cdaae]

Case in point about quality/people eating it up, the aforementioned author posted two snippets of her book where the story hasn’t even started yet but there’s a missing word and a typo because she seems to think she’s beyond needing an editor. Mistakes happen but come on. In the first sentence of your dedication? Maybe other people don’t mind but it’s not a selling point for a book to me and believe me, the rest of the book is like that too. Every bit of it I’ve ever seen has had an issue, from typos, to missing words, to character name continuity.

[urfavlarry]

Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader

A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.

I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3

Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader

——————————————

You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.

You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.

You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.

——————————————

Tyler Hernández

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.

He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”

You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol

He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool

Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)

He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr

He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.

When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!

definitely praises you!!

He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!

Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it

Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3

Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.

You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.

You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.

You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.

Aiden Clark

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating

He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!

He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong

Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing

He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible

Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)

Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week

Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3

Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.

After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.

After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

every breath you take

Paring: fem!reader × stalker!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, DUB-CON, stalking, drugging, dom!Nat, sub!reader, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pervy Nat, dark Nat, implied age gap (it’s me what did you expect)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist- kinktober

ꕀꕀ ─── ⋆⋅ ✨🌞✨ ⋅⋆─── ꕀꕀ

Natasha considered herself a great people watcher. Working in her own bookshop she never failed to give the best recommendations that somehow were always right. But her life was empty. Having had a rough childhood having healthy relationships was impossible for her. What even is a healthy relationship? The redhead thought to herself. Maria had called her obsessive and possessive and Wanda called her a creep when she found out about her photographing hobby. It was just her love language. Natasha loved her partners to death. If she could have them no one should.

The bell of the door rang announcing another customer and pulling Natasha out of her thoughts as she glanced around the bookshelf looking at the customer who had just found their way in her shop.

You were looking for something new to read and had found the old bookshop as a insider tip on instagram. You made your way through the halls between the bookshelves paying attention to the books instead of your way until you ran into another woman. “Oh lord I’m so sorry” You immediately excused as you looked at the redhead in front of you. The moment you crashed into Natasha you knew you were meant to be. “No problem” she smiled at you “You’re first time here. I’d remember a face like yours” her voice was husky, attractive in your ears. Natashas thoughts were running wild. Was this meant to be? A young drop dead gorgeous girl randomly running into her arm in her bookstore; this was fate she decided. “Correct, I’ve heard so much ever since I moved here I just got to check it out” you smiled back at her not knowing how dangerous the red head in front of you really had been.

How could you had been so careless, Natasha thought to herself as she let herself in through your widely opened window. Someone with bad intentions could’ve broken in not her of course she was only here to give you the protection you needed. She creeped through the shadows her steps barely audible. The door of your bedroom making a quiet creak as she slipped through the opening she had created. Her breath hitched as soon as your sleeping form was falling into her gaze. She could barely contain herself as she reached for her camera.

The shutter made awfully loud sounds but luckily Natasha prepared for that a few sleeping pills in your favorite wine and you were sleeping like a baby. She moved around your body taking more and more pictures. You always wore your panties and some oversized T-shirt to sleep making it an easy game for Natasha. Her hands found their way to the hem of your slowly pushing it over your chest. The older woman couldn’t help but groan as she took a look at your perky nipples slowly getting hard as the cold air caressed over it. She took another picture before setting the camera aside. Her thumbs rolling over the soft skin making you stir in your sleep. She smirked gently kissing your neck. Her touch seemed to have a big affect on you as you started to release small whimpers in your sleep.

Your hips seemed to a mind on its own as they buckled up in search of a form of release. Natashas eyes widen as she heard a moan of her name coming from your sweet lips. Had she gone completely mad? But her ears didn’t play a trick on her you moaned her name out yet again. You wanted his too, you needed this too she concluded. In a swift motion your panties were on the ground with Natasha making a mental note to put them again later. Your creamy thighs were over the read heads shoulders as she licked over your wet pussy. She hummed at the delicious taste of your juices on her pinkish tongue. She licked between your folds leaving nothing untouched as she speared her stick saliva over your core.

Her long fingers found your entrance as she slowly inserted a finger. You were tight maybe even too tight for a second finger and definitely too tight for her cock but that didn’t stop her in anyway. You just had to be stretched out properly and in Natashas mind she was just Her curvy nose nudged under the hood of your clit giving just the right stimulation.

Your hips buckled against her face as you slowly awoke from your slumber. Natasha was fast to respond leaving the spot between your thighs to press her cheek against yours comforting you to not wake further. Natasha wasn’t planning on going to jail anytime soon so she had to play this right. Her finger still curling inside of you. “W-what” you mumbled still in a sleepy state. “It’s just a dream bunny… just a dream” she shushed you in a soft voice “Natasha?” You whisper her face hovering over yours “just go back to sleep” you nodded closing your eyes again before falling back into your slumber. Natasha kissed her way back down her as she pushed a second finger in making you moan. It didn’t take her long until you were on the clenching around her delicate fingers. A few more strokes against your G- Spot until you released.

She took her time licking your sweet release from your thighs and cunt. She placed your discarded panties on your body again before tugging you in again kissing your forehead. “Until next time bunny” she whisper before disappearing into the shadows again.

The next morning you woke up to a strange dream. Natasha your bookstore crush how you referred to her to your friends screwing you into the mattress. You almost felt dirty for having such a detailed wet dream about a random bookstore owner who probably wasn’t even interested in you. But you’re body craved it. So you made your way towards her store a bit nervous but with a goal in mind.

“How can I help you Y/N” the red head said smirking like always. ”Well” you started stepping to the counter “It’s not about a book it’s a little more personal” you see Natashas eyes widen. Did you remember anything? She asked herself. “Go ahead” You took a deep breath preparing yourself for a rejection “Do you want to go on a date with me”

“Of course”

If you had only known.

:)

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

[epiemy]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader from our reality! Pt. 2

Warnings: just cursing (you’re a crazy bitch and Jason too)

Part 2 of 5 - Part 1

A/N: I missed this app so fucking much but I’m back :) hope you like this part of a series project.

Sorry for Grammar mistakes, enjoy!

"Oh boy, we are going to have a big job with this one." Words from a tired Jason.

“Hey, I’m still here, you know that?” You speak in disbelief. It still felt like a dream, where else would you get to see your favorite characters? You had never been able to shift before, so you faithfully doubted that was the case.

Jason just rolls his eyes saying “Unfortunately I noticed, you won't shut up for a single second” - and there goes your sympathy with him.

“Why are pretty people always jerks? - You're an exception Dick, shush” You say but stop as soon as you see Batman's cloak coming towards you, no longer able to control it, you end up smiling more than you've ever seen in your life, after all he was her childhood hero “My gods, Bruce Wayne? Batman? I could pass out!”

“Jason, no!” Dick speaks in warning before the youngest even opens his mouth, but even so he lets out a sneer and says:

“I could make YOU pass out” Jay mutters and you give him the middle finger “You already did that, idiot”, turning your attention to Bruce.

“Why is there a teenager in the cave, who apparently knows our secret identities? I'm only going to ask once” Batman speaks monotone and looks at the boys with his arms crossed and his mask removed.

“Ehm… well… funny story” Tim starts to say while scratching his head lightly, but Jason rolls his eyes.

“I brought her here, I heard some druggies talking about a girl falling from the sky and I went to check it out. I don't know how a demon can fall from the sky but there she is” He speaks ironically and you just stick out your tongue, murmuring that the only demon in this house was him. The boy continues “When I got close to her, she was cursing more than a sailor and had a fangirl attack shouting “Jaaaaason”, I erased her and brought her here. History end"

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Jason and sighs deeply, rubbing his temples. He honestly needed a break from all this, he couldn't take it anymore. “Currently, Barry informed us that there was a rupture of some barrier between universes caused by some meta, it turns out that she was brought from another reality and that is possibly why she knows our identities. Am I correct, miss..?”

“Y/n, and yes you are right. Finally someone with neurons- no offense Timmy” You mutter and the boy just shrugs, then continues talking “If the kid idiots had listened to me instead of fainting, I would have told them that in my reality you are all characters from a brand , so I theoretically know everything about each of you.” There was a silent pause “That seemed kind of scary, my bad.”

Minutes later, Bruce releases you from the place where you were tied up “As long as we don't know what happened, you are welcome to stay in the mansion, Alfred is already aware of this conversation and will prepare a room for you” He speaks calmly, you he just nods with a small smile in gratitude. He turns to his children “You. I want everyone in the mansion during this time, apparently you don't have an alternative version of her in this universe and she will have to stay here for some time, so we need to train her” He says leaving the Batcave.

“Soooo… Dick, can you and your nice ass show me my new room?” You say with a wide smile and you only hear Jason snort in the corner “What’s up, red bird? Do you want to show me instead of Richard? Come on come on, take me then” A hand sign is made by you, as you walk towards some stairs where Bruce had gone but Jason grabs your waist, changing the direction to the left “Oopsie, thanks kitty” You hear the laughter behind you.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jason says, walking up the correct floors with you.

[peonycats]

I want to add my two cents about my experiences with Myrddin, as well as clear up some things about the “Wasian South Korea” incident from weeks ago.

FIRST: How self-centered and entitled is it for someone to get upset that an apology not directed for you and never meant for you is not accepted by a group of people that does not include you.

We refused to accept OP's first apology because, among other reasons:

1) Our previous, repeated attempts to reach out to the OP without escalating the conflict went ignored (leading to one of us getting blocked) until the bigger blogs got involved, making it seem less genuine.

2) That the apology still called a fanfiction that referred to South Korea as "yellow" and is a thinly veiled retelling of the orientalist and racist story "Madame Butterfly" as "well explored."

How *dare* you reduce this, all of this, to fandom puritanism, to "dogpiling," to "abusers" using "manipulation tactics."

How did you ever think it was appropriate for you, a white American, to decide whether or not a group of ESEAns should forgive someone for making content that perpetuates harmful stereotypes and ideologies about *us,* not you. I’m not even mentioning your ghastly behavior defending a TERF and islamophobe and calling anybody who dared to speak up a Russian imperialist apologist.

SECOND: The OP behind the post in question has deactivated her account, something that none of us asked for, but she has acknowledged that she was ignorantly repeating harmful and racist fandom material without doing more background, research, which is something we appreciate. I wish her well, and that she won't repeat her mistakes in the future; though I believe nobody owes anybody forgiveness, should OP return to the fandom in the future, I hope all of you give her the benefit of the doubt.

THIRD: I want to ask the Hetalia fandom this. Not all of the fandom, but you know who you are. How did you see:

1) A white American who got mad that an apology meant for ESEA was not accepted by them and tried to police them for reacting "wrong" to racism (intentional or not) directed at them, before calling them trolls, fandom puritans, and abusers; who openly admitted to trying to sidetrack the ESEAns from the original issue by being "incredibly insufferable and mean-spirited," in her own words.

2) A non-Jew who accused a Jewish person of faking it and being a false-flag operation simply for asking them not to throw around the term "Nazi."

3) A non-Jew who accused another, completely unrelated Jewish person of using abuser tactics and called her a "cunt" for trying to correct their recounting of the Holocaust narrative, and expressed discomfort with Myrddin, a non-Jew, joking about getting reparations from Germany.

4) A white American asking "What the hell does being south of the equator do to people's brains" (excepting only Australia from this trend) and saying that they could tell that it was the LatAm anon based off their grammar and spelling.

And think this was all fine? Think it was okay to interact with them and show your support for them? Because she made cute America and England and FACE content?

I believe OP when she says she wasn't really aware of Myrddin-wylt, that she didn't ask for Myrddin to jump in and defend her, and that she disagrees with many of Myrddin's takes and doesn't want to be associated with her. But still, she admits that she didn't see the issues with many of Myrddin's takes until they were brought to light by someone actually affected by her bigotry and malice. This is not a problem to unique to her.

I, alongside my Chinese friends, already had my issues with Myrddin, but had basically given up on any of this resulting in any consequences because sinophobia is so omnipresent in fandom spaces and not taken seriously. However, I felt heartened when I found out that I wasn't alone, that I wasn't crazy for thinking that there was something up, that there were so many people who had been mistreated by Myrddin and been the targets of her hateful rhetoric.

This is how the English fandom works- it operates on a Western, white-centric default, and marginalized groups who fall outside of that are isolated and already geared to dismiss their own concerns for fear of "stirring the pot," of having a largely white mainstream take control of the narrative and call us "trolls" who should shut up and accept an apology already, reduce our concerns to "manipulation tactics," "bad faith," "dog-piling."

What's happened has already happened, even if that doesn't make the damage any less real or Myrddin's behavior any less appalling. What I want from the fandom is reflect on how we let it get this bad, how this went unchecked for so long, and how all of you will act knowing all of this.

please avoid myrddin-wylt/comradevo

myrddin-wylt/comradevo has been repeatedly racist, antisemitic, and sinophobic. When challenged by people from the affected communities regarding their harmful rhetoric, they have repeatedly dismissed these people as 1) poor representations of the community and/or 2) manipulative trolls/false flag operations before attempting to reframe the narrative on their blog to their control. Their overconfidence in their own ability to educate others on subjects with which they have no firsthand experience has caused them to make inappropriate and ignorant comments about the politics of other countries, to the point of unintentionally championing authoritarian regimes.

We would like to draw attention to this behaviour to warn other Hetalia fans so that they can be avoided, and ask everyone to reflect on why such a pattern of racist, antisemitic behaviour has been tolerated, unprobed and unnoticed for such a long time in the fandom. While it is true that everyone should curate their own fandom experiences, such a principle only holds as long as people do not act in ways that replicate real life oppression. Minorities do not have to curate away people who are replicating hurt/abuse against them in fandom spaces, and have every right to confront people who do so. Additionally, given that myrddin has made all of these posts publicly, we are holding them accountable in public, and not in private.

Racism

response to “Wasian South Korea” apology In December 2022, a blogger, who will be unnamed here as it is irrelevant to the purpose of the document, received an ask about a fanfiction which made the modern day nation of South Korea the offspring of North Korea and the United States. The blogger in question received the ask positively and came up with her own list of headcanons expanding upon this idea.It wasn’t until around May that some of the document writers came across this post and found it, alongside some of the ideas espoused in the post and the original fanfiction, to be extremely problematic. One of the writers of the document, luyous, reached out to the blogger via a series of private asks, proof of which can be found here, though the OP argues that they never received the asks. These went unanswered until June 14, when another one of the doc writers, kimetsunozushi69, directly reblogged the post with her thoughts and calling the headcanons problematic, which can be found here. The blogger’s first response was to block kimetsunozushi69; this fact is disputed by the blogger and Myrddin, but the doc writers had sufficient evidence to suspect that kimetsunozushi69 was blocked. Because of this suspicion, peonycats, a notably bigger blog than kimetsunozushi69, reblogged their reblog with additional commentary. It was only after this point that the original blogger apologised and took down the post in question.

Because of all of these reasons, and the general impression that the post was only taken down and an apology was given because a bigger blog got involved, the blogger’s apology was not accepted by the relevant parties, who were all ESEA. It was then that comradevo, otherwise known as Myrddin-Wylt, jumped in to start defending the blogger. Testimony from Peonycats: “Frankly, in this situation, it shouldn’t matter what reasons we had to not accept (blogger)‘s apology. Myrddin-wylt, who is White American, is the last person who gets to have any say on whether or not ESEA individuals should accept an apology for perpetuating false narratives and bigotry about them.” Frustrated by Myrddin’s dismissal of ESEA concerns, irithnova, a Southeast Asian,vented on her blog about Myrddin’s dismissiveness and lack of understanding for all the publicly available reasons why not all parties affected accepted the OP’s apology. An exchange followed in which Myrddin used anti-SEAsian stereotypes of poverty, underdevelopment, and backwardness/savagery/primitiveness against irithnova, attacking irithnova’s literacy level and reading comprehension. Tumblr: Link

It can be seen that Myrddin used aggressive rhetoric against both irithnova and kimetsunozushi69/thepianistblogsbasedonhumanities, who are both POC, but when serica-e, a white person, defended them and made many of their points, they were notably more civil to him. When questioned on this, Myrddin argued that serica-e “directly and plainly and sincerely explained” the issue “without self-justification”, implicitly contrasting him against kimetsunozushi69/ thepianistblogsbasedonhumanities and irithnova.

Serica-e is someone whose country was not affected by American imperialist violence, or the racism and orientalism the original headcanons perpetuated against ESEA; expecting irithnova and kimetsunozueshi69 to speak with the same measured tone as serica-e when speaking with an aggressive white person berating them for not accepting an apology directed towards ESEA is little more than tone-policing. By this point, the parties involved in this were extremely frustrated at how Myrddin was involving themselves in a conflict to defend (however unintentional) racism and imperialism, and when contacted by other victims of Myrddin’s racism, collaborated to create this document.

The writers of this document would like to acknowledge though the use of “lolcow” can be seen as offensive due to its origins on 4chan and derogatory meaning, they would also like to make the following points: 

The word was used by an ESL speaker who had only heard it to mean an individual who is “milked for laughs,” and was not aware of its bodyshaming connotations, thus it was never intended to insult the blogger’s appearance.

Using a problematic term once does not make POC’s anger at someone misrepresenting them through pernicious false narratives any less valid, nor does it make it then okay to lob racist and bigoted abuse at them for refusing to accept an apology for the harm caused.

Myrddin’s focus on tone-policing is reflected in how, while making a few token acknowledgements that OP’s post was wrong and that their apology was not unwarranted, they spend the majority of their posts and activity policing how POC involved reacted to said apology and attacking them viciously for their responses. They reframed POC expressing their anger and hurt at an inadequate apology that did not address their concerns as ‘trolls sensing “blood in the water,”’ portraying the victims as aggressors.

Testimony from irithnova: “This demonstrates how racially privileged people are so quick to turn upon minorities when they express their anger and hurt aggressively, rather than focusing on why they’re angry.”

Following these exchanges, Myrddin took it upon themself to make some posts about the incident on their blog. Here, they described multiple people coming to kimetsunozushi69’s side against the blogger as a “Zerg rush” and implied their actions were “trolling.” Myrddin also claimed that even if “(they) agree with your argument” but continues to fight, their “goal is now to just piss you off because (they) personally don’t like you.” They are, again, much more concerned about the responses of people who have been hurt by the OP’s post and initial suspected lack of response, instead of the fact that OP had made a racist, imperialist post. 

Once again, as someone not ESEA or ever affected by American Imperialism, Myrddin doesn’t have any right to decide how POC should react to their oppression and bigotry directed towards them. Myrddin is openly admitting to trying to punish and make the lives of POC harder because they don’t like how they went about it and didn’t forgive the original blogger for justified reasons.

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In the comments of the first link, Myrddin admits to behaving “mean-spirited” and acting as a “troll” and “asshole” themself, an admission of engaging in the discussion in bad faith.

Additionally, they also dismiss (and frankly whitewash) this group of POC as “Puritan Evangelicals” and refer to their actions as “dog-piling” and “manipulation tactics.” 

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Afterwards, myrddin began making posts demonstrating interest in Korean-US relations, as well as reblogging posts from a Korean Uzbek blogger criticising OP’s post and praising it. This is part of a well-established pattern, where Myrddin will attack people who disagree with them on an issue directly related to their communities, then afterwards, demonstrated effort to learn about said issue to signal how ‘nuanced and open’ they are and how they are demonstrating the right way to teach and talk about a situation… an insincere, performative effort, after silencing the people who have to live that situation and its consequences, dismissing victims and members as ‘bad representatives of their communities who reacted inappropriately.’

By doing this, they control the narrative of marginalised peoples’ histories, rather than allowing marginalised people to speak for themselves.

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Testimony from tianshiisdead: “To POC, arguing about racism and commenting on the spreading of harmful stereotypes and rhetoric, it’s because it’s the same rhetoric that plagues us irl and makes society dangerous for us, because it’s bigoted and cruel and makes it difficult to exist in online spaces when it follows us here too. But for many white people it’s literally just a way to prove intellectual superiority. It’s just ‘matching wits’ or 'power play’ or 'winning drama’, our original concerns are lost, if we don’t immediately forgive and forget then we’re unfair and whiny, if we argue with them then we’re pushing too far, if we have slightly less than pleasing language then we’re a mob. For us this is a serious issue based on how behaviour like this normalises racism and creates an atmosphere we’re we are afraid to speak up if things are deeply offensive for fear of being accused of being whiny/pushy/'accusing people of racism’ (which is often framed as being worse than racism), for them it’s laughing at us from afar as they treat us like lab rats to play with. Like somehow name calling is worse than making insanely racist posts that no one calls out because the general fandom is not in the blast range and therefore not affected, and the ones who are affected can’t speak up without being accused of causing drama? ‘I never insulted someone’s body/appearance so there’s that’ is craaazy when you spent an evening mockingly talking down to and insulting the English/intellect abilities of a Southeast Asian, and then turning around and being polite to a white person making the same point backing them up. Also, the tone policing is crazy haha especially considering the tone wrt criticising the original post has always been polite from the beginning, when it was brought up privately, and the only thing ‘under fire’ is the lying and shifting of blame.”

defence of other creator’s islamophobia and transphobia

After another creator was revealed to have transphobic and Islamophobic sentiments (who will be referred to as Ukrainian creator for this section, for reasons later elaborated), Myrddin once again took to framing POC’s rightful public concern as “shit stirring fan behavior” and “harassment and smear campaigns” by fandom puritans. (Link1) (Link2) (Link3) 

Testimony from Peonycats: “I’m not going to be educated by someone who has repeatedly harassed minorities and marginalised groups on ‘what does and does not help marginalised groups.’”

In a now deleted post, Myrddin attempted to completely retell what happened with the unspecified creator, who happens to be Ukrainian, talking about how their “first language isn’t English” and “hasn’t had the privilege to learn the years of social activism.” 

It should be noted that the writers of this document are pro-Ukraine and condemn Russia’s illegal invasion and wholesale slaughter of Ukrainian civilians. However, this is part of a much larger pattern of Myrddin disregarding voices from minority communities in favour of Ukrainian voices/the “Ukraine cause.” Myrddin has repeatedly utilised the Ukraine conflict in topics where it is completely irrelevant (to be elaborated upon later in this post). The creator’s background as a war refugee fleeing invasion is irrelevant to their repeated statements of sinophobia, islamophobia, transphobia, none of which they have disavowed at the writing of this document. When members of communities who are affected by such sentiments dare to speak up against a voice who happens to be Ukrainian, Myrddin puts their voices under much harsher scrutiny, while the Ukrainian voice expressing such prejudices is given tremendous benefit of the doubt, such as English not being their first language, not understanding social justice rhetoric, etc.

The writers of this document were also some of the members to call out the Ukrainian creator, and would like to make it clear that at no point did they encourage the harassment or sending of violent/similar threats towards the Ukrainian creator in question, even going so far to explicitly warn against doing so multiple times.

When the unspecified creator involved was called out for sinophobia, they promptly accused one of the writers of being a Chinese nationalist, and assumed that said writer would be enraged by a Uyghur OC (which they then drew) due to said nationalism, despite them never having expressed pro-CCP sentiments. After Myrddin reblogged their art of Uyghur, an anon sent Myrddin an ask mentioning the creator’s Islamophobia and transphobia. Myrddin reacted harshly to this ask, assuming that the anon was accusing the Ukrainian creator in bad faith, being a “troll” and “toxic pissant”.

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Myrddin would then proceed to make posts about the Uyghur people and demonstrate an interest in creating and playing a Uyghur OC in a game.

Becoming publicly interested in the Uyghurs because of a spite OC against someone assumed to be a Chinese nationalist because they are Chinese endorses the creator’s sinophobic behaviour. It is also offensive to the Uyghurs and their genocide and incredibly performative to only speak up for them when you have issues with someone you think would be offended by any defense of or interest in them. 

Argentina

Aside from their racism against East and Southeast Asians, Myrddin has also made inappropriate and racist comments against Argentinians, as well as drawing false equivalence between the United Kingdom and Argentina as colonial states. Their behaviour of hijacking the conversation after a confrontation on the topic will also be repeated here. 

The writers of the document do not intend to weigh in on the Falklands territorial dispute between Argentina and Britain. Our focus is on the racism that Myrddin exhibited when Argentinians disagreed with their views, and racism against the other side is always a disproportionate and inappropriate response in political debates. 

In May 2023, Myrddin received an anonymous ask complaining about a creator who implied the Falklands was part of Argentina, and made a few posts on the topic siding with the UK on the Falklands territorial dispute. 

In response to an ask they got challenging them on the Falklands, Myrddin made a post claiming that everyone living south of the equator had “brainrot” and stated that the only country south of the equator that wasn’t “insane” was Australia. Considering the southern hemisphere is primarily dominated by people of colour and non-western countries, and that the only exception that Myrddin, a white American, makes for this assertion is Australia, a primarily white, Western country, this statement comes off as intensely racist and denigrating of the mental faculties of POC and non-Western individuals.

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An anonymous individual sent in an ask to Myrddin calling out this language. Myrddin again, puts them down, and even goes on to state that they knew this anonymous ask came from, presumably, the same person who challenged them on the Falklands (referred to as the “Latam Anon”) because of their poor and inaccurate grammar. Once again, Myrddin is otherizing ESL speakers, and it should not be difficult to see how singling out the anonymous individuals that use poor grammar and assuming from that grammar that they are 1) the same person 2) that the second anonymous person is from Latin America, is racist and bigoted, especially when it’s coming from a White Texan. Here, Myrddin denigrates the intelligence of non-Western individuals based off English proficiency, under the guise of “putting down Argentina nationalists.”

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An Argentine individual, who wishes to remain anonymous, received an ask about Myrddin’s denigration of Southern Hemisphere countries, and called out Myrddin’s statement for being (intentionally or not) racist and bigoted. Myrddin responds to this by arguing that not all non-Western countries were below the Southern Hemisphere, therefore making their statement somehow acceptable. Again - when Myrddin states explicitly that there’s “one (1) country south of the equator that isn’t insane”, and that country is Australia, one of the only white dominated states in the Southern Hemisphere, it comes off, at best, as insensitive and ignorant of how the vast majority of countries in the Southern Hemisphere are non-Western, and racism at worst.

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Furthermore, Myrddin goes on to equivocate Argentina, a former Spanish colony, with Great Britain, which remains a globe-spanning imperial power to this day. Argentina may be a white dominated society, but it is still not considered part of the West and has also been affected by Western intervention and invasion, thus it is facetious to compare it to the UK in terms of damage. This is not meant to put down the historical and continuing harm Argentina continues to perpetuate against its indigenous and African population, but there’s a drastic difference in scale between these two countries (Britain having repressed colonial populations and sown the conditions for future ethnic conflict and oppression worldwide in multiple countries today), and trying to argue the colonial, imperialist legacies of these two countries are anywhere close to each other is in bad faith and patently false.

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Following this exchange, Myrddin began learning about the brutalisation of indigenous and Afro-Argentines, presenting themselves as an authority on some parts of the topic by answering questions about it and compiling several reading lists on the treatment of Argentine minorities. This was done via the educational, almost condescending tone they speak with to the anonymous individual who sent them an ask on Argentina, them Myrddin noting how their reading list got the seal of approval from an Argentinean (virtue signalling again), and how they assume they have enough authority to vet and assess which readings on the genocide of Afro-Argentines and Indigenous people are accurate enough to form a reading list on.

[Screenshots of the reading lists have been truncated for brevity].

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Again, we do not intend to weigh in on the Falklands territorial dispute. However, regardless of opinion on the Falklands Islands, it doesn’t justify the act of ridiculing (at least) an entire nation as “brain-rotted” and dismissing all Argentine voices disagreeing with you, before immediately presenting yourself as the unbiased expert on all things Argentina and historical.

Testimony from a LatAm mutual: it NEEDS to be acknowledged that Argentina’s history is bloody, and that colorism is a major problem in virtually all LatAm countries, just as it is in the US. But the way Myrddin was so eager to use Argentina’s history as an opportunity to insult the entire Global South, somehow giving Australia a free pass, then declaring themselves some kind of spokesperson on LatAm history, is a perfect example of White Leftism at its worst. Myrddin even flaunted the fact that they could dig up Spanish-language sources as if this is some great feat in the age of the internet. It is all too often that White USAmericans seem very eager to be vitriolic towards White LatAm folks in a way that they are not vitriolic towards their White US peers. It reeks of unexamined bias against Spanish-speaking communities, and against the Global South as a whole. This is absolutely not about Argentina being somehow immune to crit, it is about the double standard that Myrddin has shown. They’ve been repeatedly far more permissive regarding missteps from folks who are not from the Global South (see the excuses made for the racism and islamophobia from an Eastern European user) than they have been of communities that don’t align with their pet cause.

Testimony from Kimetsunozushi69: As someone born and raised in Spain who interacted and talk daily share with Hispanic speakers from Spain and Latin America, we tend to agree that we are fairly worried when people tend to ignore and brush off the clear history of violence and discrimination that hispanos suffer, it is especially hard because I do agree that, as someone who suffered racism in Spain as a EAsian, there is no denying that many Hispanic speaking countries have a big problem with racism and colourism, but to use our oppression, the oppression of POCs by White Latinos and Spaniards, as a way to look down on the later and also to look down on Spanish speaking countries is problematic, especially because Myrddin is from the US, and the US is infamous for its anti-hispanic policies in society and law, many latinos feel uncomfortable with the US talking down about the conditions of their countries because the US has massive power and influence over Latin America, and also the clear racialisation of the US society against white hispanics and spaniards compared to white people with germanic and british ancestry.

Antisemitism

Myrddin has also been antisemitic. In response to a Jewish person’s criticism of said antisemitism, they have employed antisemitic canards, accusing them of being a 4chan false flag antisemitic operation. 

In February 2022, a Jewish individual, who will be referred to as “anonymous Jewish Individual” for the rest of the document, expressed discomfort with Myrddin calling Scholz a “Nazi,” as it’s throwing around a very loaded term and reducing its weight, thus contributing to Jews speaking about their oppression not being taken seriously.

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Myrddin reacted aggressively to this correction, and immediately accused the anonymous Jewish individual of having internalised anti-semitism for simply criticising how they used the term Nazi, as well as not caring about Eastern European Jews, despite the fact that the anonymous Jewish individual is a Russo-German Jew. As a non Jew, Myrddin has no right to be policing how a Jew feels about how non-Jews use the term “Nazi.”

Myrddin would go on to theorise that this anonymous Jewish individual was in fact, faking being Jewish and was only trying to stir up trouble (for being uncomfortable with the way a non-Jewish person is throwing around the term ‘Nazi’), pointing to their spelling of antisemitism versus anti-semitism.

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Additionally, they would go on to analyse the original ask, calling it “top-tier manipulation,” and speculate that they are a “Kremlin contractor.” As we have established, this is part of a much larger pattern of Myrddin dismissing the complaints of minorities who don’t agree with them as simply “manipulation.”

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The following are testimony from the anonymous Jewish individual and a Jewish mutual of the writers.

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Testimony from another Jewish mutual: “I also had a bad experience with Myrddin’s antisemitism - I had originally followed them because their takes appeared nuanced at first glance but if I had known this was their response to a Jewish anon, I never would have engaged. I had gently informed Myrddin that their wording was a common unintentional form of soft Holocaust denial, and I kept it in the comments section of their post because I did not want it to be a public dragging, just a heads-up. Myrddin screencapped me to mock me, accused me of manipulating them and playing the victim, linked me the wikipedia article for “reductio ad Hitlerum” and called me a cunt.

As for these accusations of the above anon faking being Jewish: the hyphen debate is not the shibboleth myrddin thinks it is. Plenty of Jews still use the hyphen, it’s largely regional and generational. I don’t use the hyphen myself, but it’s nowhere near being an example of the false-flagging activity they’re documenting in their “info post” about it. False-flagging accusations are a heavy thing to accuse someone of, and when it’s coming from someone who isn’t Jewish, it’s a textbook example of the antisemitic trope of “fabricating or exaggerating antisemitism” and in my personal experience, actual falseflaggers can usually be identified by other things that you really have to be actively involved in Jewish spaces to recognize. These things include misuse/misunderstanding of Yiddish (such as grammar and syntax errors), discussion of Jewish topics in terms that no Jewish person would actually use (but many Christians would), and they largely go undetected because comprising 0.2% of the global population means 99.8% of the world has had little or zero exposure to us.

Myrddin even admitted in a past post that their exposure to Jewish people is minimal and they therefore have limited ability to identify antisemitism unless it’s overt. Honestly this post of theirs about how antisemitism manifests itself in leftist circles is overall correct. So if they are aware of this, why do they think they are incapable of unwittingly perpetuating it themself? This is exactly what Myrddin did when they accused someone of faking being Jewish, and when they accused me of playing the victim because I didn’t appreciate that they joked about receiving reparations from Germany. If they knew even the basic minimum on the subject they would realize they were playing into classic tropes. Myrddin has no real exposure to Jewish spaces and dialogue and therefore no place to speak with any authority on whether or not they can accurately identify a falseflagger. Furthermore, to address the “it’s not just about youuuuu” edit they added - while it is absolutely true that there were other victims, no group was targeted, tracked, registered, and exterminated to the extent, or even in the same manner, that Jews and Romani and Sinti were. I encourage anyone reading this to seek out and listen to Jewish and Romani queer and disabled voices, who will say the same. Queer identity was feared because it was seen as a Jewish threat. For someone who claims to know so much about how antisemitism manifests itself on the Left, they are incredibly ignorant about one of the most common forms this takes: the “all lives matter” treatment of the Holocaust in Leftist circles.”

Alongside Myrddin’s anti-semitism, this is part of a much larger pattern of behavior of Myrddin employing the plight of Ukrainians as a tool to silence minorities. Whenever someone speaks from a relevant minority perspective on ukraine-related topics or simply against a Ukrainian voice, Myrddin proceeds to attack and speak over that minority. In the latter case, even when the topic is completely unrelated to their nationality or the war in Ukraine, myrddin drags in the Ukraine to invalidate those minorities and even implies that these minorities are somehow privileged.

Testimony from luyous: “Coming from a non-Ukrainian, this is completely inappropriate behavior, and to be completely honest, it’s depressingly similar to how the western mainstream has covered the Ukraine conflict compared to other conflicts and voices, such as Afghanistan, Yemen, Palestine, etc.”

Sinophobia

In the first incident two anonymous individuals both write to Myrddin about feeling ashamed in their countries, Brazil and China. In isolation, these posts could be shrugged off, but these drastically different responses to very similar questions about feeling shame about one’s country, placed within the larger pattern of myrddin’s behaviour and rhetoric about China, indicate prejudices at play.

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Testimony from Luyous: “Why does Myrddin express empathy for how the Brazil anon is ashamed of their country and talk about how they (Myrddin) is also ashamed of the United States, but the China Anon gets none of that? Myrddin doesn’t attempt to draw the same connections of country misdeeds and crimes between the United States and China like they do for the United States and Brazil, implies in the tags such attempts to do so would be “whataboutism.” While every country has its crimes, and China is a hegemonic power with more than its share of crimes, the fact that Myrddin can express “oh same” @ Brazil anon but refuses to do so for China anon and implies that:

1) Yes, you should be ashamed of your country.

2) Any attempts to “oh same” between China and the United States are an attempt to detract from China’s misdeeds versus Brazil.

These are all reflective of a double standard between the crimes of Brazil and China, indicative of a larger pattern of Myrddin’s inability to criticise China on the same terms as other nations.”

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year hare affair

“Year Hare Affair” is a far-right Chinese nationalist cartoon which Myrddin has posted about. Myrddin has repeatedly referenced this cartoon primarily popular amongst Chinese nationalists and not the general Chinese population to determine how Chinese people in general act and feel about geopolitics.

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The doc’s writers, many of whom are Chinese, find Myrddin’s behaviour distasteful at best and to have nationalist undertones at worst. It’s galling to see Americans like Myrddin smugly make memes about the US-China tensions while it’s primarily the Chinese American and Chinese Western diaspora who suffer the consequences of such rising tensions. Chinese people are extremely racialized and treated poorly by both North American society and government. White Americans, however, are not oppressed and are not uniquely mistreated by their government, and even have privileges in China as white expatriates. It’s just flatly false for Americans to act like they’re the underdog oppressed by China and throw their lot in with countries like Vietnam which have been mistreated by China. Additionally, this rhetoric ignores how Chinese people are brutalised in the west because such rhetoric has been normalised in the mainstream; is making a few memes that don’t change anything politically really worth contributing to grandmas getting bludgeoned on the streets?

Testimony from Peonycats: “In the words of another ESEA individual I spoke to about this topic, it’s very easy for White Westerners who will never be hurt by the escalating tensions between the West and China to go ‘C’mon Xi’ and goad said tensions on.”

Testimony from Tianshiisdead: “From the perspective of a muslim Chinese ethnic minority who’s lived in China and in the west (North America), Myrddin’s takes are honestly really harmful and the sort of subtle politically worded sinophobia that flies under the radar because it’s also championed by news media in the west and any opposition will be met with accusations of either being a wumao/genocide denier/totalitarian apologist (for left wing) or anti-american/traitor (for right wing), but these sorts of sentiments directly contribute to getting Chinese people (and Chinese adjacent/passing people) beaten and killed, as seen by the spike in hate crimes in recent years. I think there’s a sort of smugness and aloofness that permeates her posts on China, this idea that she’s not punching down but rather spectating a sports game or even punching up, a 'spunky’ feeling to her wording that honestly feels very gross, these are serious issues both being addressed in her posts and caused by her wording, and her distance from the violence as a white American is very clear imo. Like when she says 'cmon Xi!’ or whatever like it’s not people’s lives and the wellbeing of entire countries at stake… also a lot of the rhetoric leans dangerously close into absolving America for me, because she literally keeps posting about how China aggression wah wah China is being rude to America again wahhhh like America is Not The Victim of whatever China’s doing, and has its own history of oppression/exploitation of Chinese people and is currently the main force shit stirring in the region for its own purposes tbh. The sort of 'spunkiness’ vibe comes out when she mocks China, which I don’t think is appropriate given she’s a white American in a country where Chinese people are brutalized for both racial and political reasons, and also again, given the fact that America is Not the Victim and therefore her shit slinging at China can not in any way be construed as 'punching up’. The way she talks about Hetalia China rubs me the wrong way as well because like… okay Hetalia nation-tans do often reflect their gov but they are not ONLY their gov and given how Chinese people and culture are often conflated with their gov irl even in situations when they are the ones being hurt/oppressed most and treated accordingly, it’s just bad vibes all around when she often fluidly moves in between talking about Hetalia China and China’s gov actions irl.

Also, like, can I say as someone from an ethnic minority group that is on and off the target of suppression and has had family hurt by that suppression, Myrddin’s posting justifies in many ways its treatment of China due to Chinese government policy, but it just reeks of a white westerner cheering for blood while watching us get brutalized like a spectator sport, it’s pretty sickening lol not necessarily related to sinophobia but. like your (random white westerner’s) sinophobic ranting about china’s gov not only doesn’t help us minorities but also gets us racialized and killed when we move to the west for our own safety…”

spreading false narratives

Though not as egregious as harassing and demeaning minorities for speaking about their own oppression, Myrddin has also made some statements that end up white-washing less than savoury government regimes. During the dispute about the Falklands, Myrddin brought up Hong Kong as an example of another land dispute involving the British but was resolved without military intervention. However, this is ignoring the complexity of Hong Kong’s handover and also ironically repeats pro-CCP talking points:

1) A region being inhabited by majority ethnic Chinese does not justify PRC control of a territory; this is literally rhetoric used by the CCP to justify control over Hong Kong.

2) Poor taste for Myrddin, someone who is not Hong Konger, to be justifying Hong Kong’s handover and to be characterising it as ‘well-done’ in contrast to the Falklands dispute in the wake of international coverage of the Hong Kong protests.

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Myrddin also called the far right-wing government of Poland “sexy,” something which given their history of interactions with Jewish individuals, was found to be in poor taste, at best.

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The following is what the anonymous Jewish individual has to say about the Poland praising post: 1

conclusion

The authors would like to remind everyone not to harass Myrddin. Precipitating violent/death threats and anon hate against Myrddin or other racists in fandom is not the intent of this callout, and the writers would strongly condemn any attempts to do so. Rather, we would like everyone to become more aware of these racist behaviours and ask you to take a stand against it whenever you see it happening, both in fandom and outside of it.

We would also ask the Hetalia fandom to reflect: what does it say about the fandom that Myrddin has been allowed to continue participating and actively make content in the fandom for so long, even as they come into so many conflicts with minority fans over a period of several months? Why is it that a racist has an established circle of friends and followers in the fandom? Why does Myrddin feel entitled to defend multiple instances of racism from other Hetalia fans?

Are we fostering an atmosphere of tolerance for racists in fandom, such that they feel empowered to continue participating, while minorities in fandom are forced out?

And ultimately, what can we do to create environments that ethnic and religious minorities feel comfortable existing in?

Thank you!

[treadmilltreats]

Growing and changing

Recently, I was going through some of my old blogs as I am planning on writing another book based on them.

I couldn't believe some of my writing. It was choppy, with run-on sentences, wrong punctuation, and horrible grammar. I am still not perfect, but hell, I've realized that I've come a long way since I started.

Recently, someone told me how much my writing has grown, that I've come into myself in the last few years. I was happy to hear that as I have made a conscious effort to try to be better. This should be the story of everyone's life, to make a conscious effort to be better, to change, to learn, and to grow. This is what we are here for, to become better people. No matter what age, we must always be willing to learn and change.

Don't be so stuck on stupid that you think you're smart enough where you are at now, that you don't have to.

Things are changing, times are changing, technology is changing every day, and we must change along with it or get left behind. We must be open to change, and trust me, I get that change is scary. I know, for myself, that the fear of change kept me stuck in a miserable marriage for 24 years. I was so afraid of the unknown that to me, it was better just to stay in that horrible situation than to move forward and change.

We must let go of fear. We must let go of our egos and the fear of failure and just do it anyway.

Okay, here's an example, have you ever talked to an older person, and they are so stuck in their ways? They say, "This is the way I am."

and you're arguing "No grandpa, you can do it. Just try!" But they refuse, and it gets you mad that they aren't even willing to give it a chance. Well, that's life, and that could be you one day if you aren't willing to change.

In the last 10 years, I've stepped out of my box more than I ever have. I've done things I would have never done or ever dreamed of doing before. At first, it scared the hell out of me, but as time went on and I kept doing it, the fear became less and less.

Now, I am willing to try anything or to do anything. I know I am not perfect, so I am willing to do things to try to change. I now look at it from other's perspectives, I think okay... is what they said true? Does it hold value? Is this what I am doing? And then I step back and take a good, long, hard look at it and what I can change.

I'm not saying I'm going to change because of what people say, but what I am saying is that I am now open to listening and looking deep in it to see if it will benefit me or if there is some truth to it.

I remember once when my cousin called me and told me that my blog sounded like I was venting and that I was being petty. I took a step back and looked at it from her eyes. I didn't jump into a rant of "What do you know, or don't tell me how to write" like so many people may have. I really looked at what she was saying. I realized that it was the truth.

I was hurt, and I wrote it in that pain, and it showed. She was right, and so I went and corrected it because that wasn't my intent. I listened to what she had to say, and I changed it because I am open to criticism, to change, and to being able to grow.

When I am feeling down about where I am and where I think I am supposed to be by now in my writing career, I think Joyce Meyer didn't step on her first stage until she was 50. Colonel Sanders didn't make Kentucky fried chicken until he was in his 70s. I still have time, and I still have time to grow and learn.

I had a client, he was 92, and he hired me to teach him how to use his new cell phone and new GPS. At 92, he was willing to learn, and I thought I wanted to grow up to be him, still willing to learn at 92!

With age comes wisdom if we are smart enough to be willing to learn from our mistakes. If we are smart enough to realize that if we are open, we will be learning and changing until we take our last breath.

So today, my friends remember that every day we are on this earth, we have the opportunity to learn and grow. Don't be so stuck in your ways that you stop growing. Like I say in all my blogs, it's never too late. You're never too old. If you want to change, you gotta be the change you want to see.

"Be the change you want to see,"

@TreadmillTreats

[xoteajays]

Being the typical autistic person.. I'd work hard on topics that interest me, but slack off on everything else. It's all or nothing with me. So I'm only paying intensive attention to topics that interest me. And usually if I'm interesting in topics, I do my own research about that very topic then. So basically the typical autistic mannerisms of their knowledge.

But in school, I would have said art class was my only best class. That was back when I used to be artistic. Not anymore though. Since there are people who ruin things for me a lot of the time. Language class, in the sense of English class (not Spanish), I'm basically a grammar nazi in a sense. Despite the fact that there are words I still mispronounce.

Based on the gifs I sent you. That is really my reaction to math. I'm so stupid when it comes to math.. Which is funny. Or maybe annoying is the right word. That I actually have people in my family, like a cousin, who can do math in their head without writing it down on paper. That makes me want to beat upside the head so they can never do math at all anymore. I would feel very satisfied if that ever happened to them.

I never participated in gym class.. I'm not knowledgeable about other classes. I don't know puns or riddles, I don't know science either.

So you can say that I have that whole AuDHD intelligence basically, if that needs to be explained. I hate the abbreviations. Anyway. Actually there is a short video that explains it.. I'll have to send you that video.

As an INTJ. I don't know how to play chess or checkers. I may be able to manipulate people, but not in the traditional sense you'd imagine.

Traditionally mice and rats are social animals, always in groups. So I'd say that could work together with others. Clubs specialist can work in that way. Does Dourmouse care about people? And besides.. you said that she has a sleeping disorder? If they have a sleeping disorder then I can't really imagine them being active in spade games, not in a very traditional sense. But it also depends on what her disorders though.

That's my other problem. If I write an AIB story... I have to figure out a lot of games, besides the canon games, for my characters. That's fun.

"He is calm, highly intelligent and manipulative, and analytical at all times, making him a potentially strong Hearts and Diamonds player, even though he claimed to not be suited for Hearts. This allows him to triumph in games that require defeating other players, yet because he declares to be uninterested in understanding the human heart, Diamond games remain his strong suit." Chishiya is a hearts and diamonds specialist, but he prefers diamonds specialty.

That was from the manga site.

But for the show, Chishiya does participate in a lot more heart games than he did in the manga. Like the Prison game with Bando and Yaba.

I do know that Niragi is originally a diamonds specialist. And I noticed (for the fans who actually like Niragi), I've notced that sometimes end up writing Niragi as a diamonds specialist in their stories.. So why not make him a diamonds and spades specialist. Since my characters will have specialties in more than one suit of games. But that's just what I might be doing. And you too. Since they have more of a chance to be surviving in this apocalyptic world. It makes them more interesting.

Wait! Correct me if I'm wrong since this is your character. I remember that I started talking to you because I wanted to create characters for Alice In Borderland. How ironic. But your talking flower character was a jeweler? Someone who worked on clocks. I think.. I can't remember.

But if I did create a flower character, they would be a botanist or even a florist. Because you could make plants and flowers out of necessity. Like spices for food, medicine, basically out of that. I would have also made them a gardener.. But. Gardening takes a lot time for any plants to grow. So who knows how long they would be stuck in Borderlands.

And if I did make a flower character. Like you said, I can't imagine this character being a spades person at all. If they're intelligent enough to know which plants could be used for food and medicines, then that is going to require intelligence which would be diamonds (to an extent). If they care for other people enough to actually help them, then clubs and hearts specialties too. So any of those suits are their specialties.

I sent you a list of Wonderland characters. There might be characters missing.. I mostly went with the list of Wonderland book characters in this situation, not the movies. I don't know. I'll have to search the list.

True. There are side characters that characters thought was Alice.. So there's that. Maybe I could combine characters for her. Or should this character be only one specific character. To be consistent in that way.

Yes! Karube does care about people. But the moment he realized that people have lost their lives in these games, he started panicking, that was when he started only caring about himself and his friends. And.. I think. Maybe when it gets a better grasp, a better understanding, in a Borderlands world like this. Maybe he would be more helpful to some people who might potentially become friends with them. I don't know yet. But that's a thought. So I don't know if he'll live or die in my story.

~

Exactly! That's the easiest way to manipulate Rocky. And.. That is not the first time Doubt manipulated Rocky, just by kidnapping women in most situations. They could have killed Rocky (and the Rascals) if any other gangs never showed up to the fight in the subway. That was the one time the Strawberry Girls were actually useful. So the gangs have saved the White Rascals. Mainly Cobra. Rocky can really be stubborn.

And yeah. If Hyuga ever actually cares about the women in his life like his girlfriend, sisters (or sister figures), friends, employees... It doesn't matter the relationship. But Hyuga would be more violent than Rocky.

But that is one thing that upsets me about the Rascals. The only time you truly seeing the Rascals being completely violent was in a season - season one - of the show. I wish they continued to be that violent.. It seemed liked they eventually became a little less violent as the shows and movies continued though. But my version of the White Rascals is going to be like season one when it comes to any violent tendencies.

Exactly. Murayama does have brains and brawn. He is not completely stupid, but not that intelligent either. Seki's the stupidest one of their trio. But to be fair... Most women would be mortified in someone ever walks in on them having sex with someone. But those poor women.

Well.. If those women are lucky, hopefully no one ever walks in on any of them when we're being intimate. Especially while having sex then.

~

I could wait on watching the Tokyo Revengers live adaptions. And like I said.. I've been neglecting anime at the moment to watch these new Asian shows and movies. And also horror movies for Halloween too.

So I actually have a lot of anime to catch up on too, not just the Asian shows and movies. There is so much to watch.. My brain will be fried.

Did you know that Nijirō can speak English? I can't even remember if I told you that.. Nijirō characters are going to be multilingual in my own stories because why not. Because I'd love the multilingual characters.

You haven't seen Mask Girl? Rocky would hate the show. But at least.. That show is a short series. There's only seven episodes. And I'd really recommend you don't watch it around other people because of sex or rape scenes. Not overly graphic. But it's enough to possibly make you uncomfortable though. Maybe. I don't know how you feel about that.

You sound like me! I'm always watching what I can during the day and night.. Watching shows and movies. But it never feels like I have more than enough time to actually watch anything at the same time too. I'd always panic over it like I would never get a chance to watch anything ever again. And I don't know why I always acting or reacting like that. But I do.

- 💋

i was really good at english and ancient history (which was a class you could pick. either ancient history or modern history). i took mostly literary leaning classes, with a couple science ones thrown in. my only real accomplishment that i remember was being praised for the starting paragraph of an english writing assignment that my teacher used multiple times as an example of good writing. like thank u. the high u can get from ur high school english teacher praising your work in front of the class.

i’m not like. horrible at maths. i was in the mid-high level class in my high school. im just not that great at it. my dad was a banker for like 20+ years tho, so maybe a little rubbed off on me. but i can’t do like. the hard stuff. i’d prefer a calculator.

dormouse is definitely more of a people person especially in comparison to chishiya. i haven’t fully decided on what condition she has when it comes to dleep, but yea i could see it interfering with playing more physical games like spades.

i like designing games, but i also hate it because it’s hard. some games i just make so i can write a scene or do something to a character.

i also lean niragi more towards diamond games when i write him. probably because i write karube as a spades specialist. i also just think diamonds suits him better, i can’t necessarily see him as the athletic type.

my talking flower was a horologist! because i find out about jobs and get obsessed and just throw them at ocs. her tie to the wonderland talking flowers was more aesthetic, a lotta floral jewellery and outfits and breaking a flower vase in banda’s face when escaping his murder attempt.

karube’s main goal at the start was getting arisu and chota out, then he was forced into a game where only one of them would survive and he kind of panicked. i don’t necessarily blame him, but he was hella brutal in the seven of hearts. i guess the stress of potential death will do that to a person.

~

i love all the gangs showing up to help the rascals. it’s just So Good. they were all ‘we’re FRIENDS and we’re here to HELP!!’ i love them. no surprise there, since i love a found family trope.

hyuga’s more violent and focused on beating - if not straight up killing - the guy who hurt the girl he cares about. rocky’s more focused on making sure the girl is okay - and maybe he’ll come back later to beat the dude.

yea like they were fully prepared to beat dan and break his legs, but they kinda chilled out later. i guess since daruma came in to be the most violent gang in sword.

i can see murayama getting caught making out a lot, if not actually having sex. i had a thread of an idea for a fic like that but never actually wrote it.

~

havent started mask girl yet, i have it on my list tho. i probably would’ve start it, but decided on rewatching aib instead.

~

ep10 of worst! featuring the world’s most awkward double date!!

the boss, the cop, the wife and the associate all had the most awkward dinner together. the boss was trying so hard to have a nice time and everyone else was just being terrible. the wife wouldn’t shake the associate’s hand, the associate was talking about the drugs and what the guys do for work and pointing out that the wife’s a cop. the associate and the wife were being touch-y with their respective dudes - like. girl. in front of your husband right now??? it was a mess.

the cop’s drug addicted dad got briefly arrested by the semi-competent cops that are trying to arrest the boss and getting in the way of the main cop. so i’m expecting that to make a come back.

not a whole lot happened this episode with the main group. it was a lot of set up for the last two episodes, i feel. lotta scenes with the other non-main-cop cops and not nearly enough wi ha joon.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || KIND HEARTED

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar error, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1339

| published : 14 november

| request : could i request an imagine w/ sukuna where itadori’s best friend is just so welcoming of sukuna and tries to include him when they do things? like they’re just hanging out and she goes “sukuna would you like to try this” and she holds up a piece of food to his cheek so sukuna can try it and it just warms the curse’s cold dead heart bc she’s genuinely trying <3

| barista’s notes : i kinda went a little off track with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and that you have an amazing day! please come back again soon ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ

“You know, I think curses spirits have emotions”

“Mother, what in the world are you talking about? They don’t have feelings, they kill without remorse and try to gain power from their greed”

“Y/N dear, how are curses formed?”

“Negative emotions that results in cursed energy leaking from the bodies of humans”

“See ‘emotions’ is in the sentence dear”

“‘Humans’ mother, you forgot the word ‘humans’ was also in the sentence”

Back then you had no idea what your mother was suggesting or saying at that time. Curses having emotions? What was that all about? You knew from previous missions that some curses were intelligent from being able to take hostages to some being able to talk but other than that you still couldn’t comprehend what she was trying to communicate to you.

“You know the Legend of Sukuna?”

Looking up from your book, you stared at your mother - who was sitting on the opposite end of the room with a cup of tea in her hands - with a somewhat nonchalant but surprised expression on your face wondering why she brought up such a topic that was feared by most jujutsu sorcerers

“You used to tell me about it when I was younger, why are you bringing it up now?” you asked curiously, as you closed your book before gently placing it on your lap.

“We all know that the curse was a human before his fingers became cursed objects, don’t we? How do you think he felt when he was killed?”

You were about to answer her before you shut your mouth completely, not sure on how to even answer that question. How could you? No one knows the whole story to even come to a conclusion for that question, you have to interrupt the story in your own way to make one yourself? Wouldn’t he have been enraged when he was killed, annoyed at the fact that he lost in a way? Or was he unsettled? 

“Personally from my perspective, I think he would have been vexed at the fact that he somewhat lost, you mother?”

“I think the same as you, but I have a small feeling that he was upset for some reason, I’m not sure why though”

                                              ꕥ

You still have that assumption till this day. However, you were a little more open about your mother’s thoughts and took them into account sometimes when you were debating on the subject on your own. However, there was a slight shift in your opinion once Itadori Yuji unexpectedly came into your life.

The first time you meant the boy was when Gojo came back with him carrying him and Fushiguro back to Jujutsu high, confusing you completely on what was going on. For someone who was sent to just retrieve a cursed object, Fushiguro looked completely beat up and that worried you completely on what he had encountered during his time away. However, Gojo just couldn’t read the room.

“Yo Y/N, what is my favourite student doing at a time like this? It’s quite late you know,” he greeted you with a smile, before plopping Fushiguro on the ground.

“Sensei, now’s not the time to play with me, what the hell is going on?” you muttered annoyingly before using reserve curse energy to heal some of Fushiguro’s wounds.

After some time of your playful teacher explaining what was going on, you came to the conclusion that the boy ate the cursed object that Fushiguro was supposed to collect causing him to become Sukuna’s vessel as a consequence.

“So what you’re saying is that Fushiguro failed to get the object in the end,” you commented as you pointed at your close friend, leading to Gojo giving you an ‘okay’ sign telling you that you were technically correct.

“Was that all you got from the whole explanation Y/N?” Fushiguro irritatedly asked, causing you to lightly giggle before apologising to him.

                                              ꕥ

However, after that night, you made the decision to become friends with the teenager as you didn’t want him to feel completely isolated on his situation right now - he did leave everything behind to come to Tokyo - and with everything that was going to happen to him, you wanted him to live a happy life with people surrounding him before his execution after he ate all 20 fingers. What you didn't realise was this friendship would lead to you guys to have a sister and brother type of bond.

You and Itadori did everything together from going on missions together with Nobara and Fushiguro to randomly going out to do some shopping or showing him around Tokyo. As time went on, you decided to fully take in your mother’s opinion. You slowly included Sukuna in some of the activities that both of you would be participating in - usually this would involve you asking for his opinion on something, even if he sometimes gave a rude response.

“Do you think Sukuna is a pork or beef type of guy?” you randomly asked, as you lifted up your chopsticks that held a piece of cooked beef to Itadori’s cheek. “Sukuna, would you like to try this?” you kindly asked, leading to the curse to take a bite of the meat before his mouth disappeared like it didn’t appear in the first place.

“I never really asked, but why are you so kind to Sukuna? I mean he is a curse, after all, ain't sorcerers like you supposed to like, hate them?” Itadori asked in a confused tone, causing you to look up away from the meat that you were cooking to the boy that had asked you that question. 

To be honest, you weren’t so sure how to answer his question, just like the same situation that you were years ago when your mother asked you that question. How could you answer this time around? How could you answer this question now?

“Personally from my perspective, I guess I took in some consideration towards anyone’s emotions,” you casually answered, before going back to the meat that was cooking on the grill, leaving Itadori confused yet somewhat understanding what you were trying to say.

                                             ꕥ

Sukuna on the other hand was confused about what you were trying to interrupt to his annoying vessel as he sat quietly in his Innate Domain. Ever since the beginning of your friendship with Itadori, you had been nothing but kind-hearted toward him making him wonder what your intentions were from the start. However, over time he began to discover that’s what you were naturally. You were naturally just a kind-hearted person that was trying to become acquainted with him. You were generally trying.

It was hard to recall the last time he had someone to confide in - if there was anyone he even confided in at all - you were someone that took his emotions into consideration, you always question his reason for power, greed and destruction, instead of assuming that he was born with his sadistic nature. He still remembers that time you were able to somehow get close to him during his fight with Fushiguro and heal Itadori’s heart with no issues at all - making him intrigued on how powerful your reserve energy was. However, he remembers what you said to him as your hand was placed on top of the wound on his chest.

“Listen, I have no idea what caused you to become the man that you are today, I have no idea what pain you went through before your death 1000 years ago, I have no idea what you are feeling right now and I’ll try my best to understand” you quickly stated just as your curse began to revive his heart, “but right now, there is no way in hell am I going to let you kill Itadori, you got that Sukuna!”

That. That caused his cold empty heart to suddenly become warm.

Your kind-heartedness was the reason he began to reach out to you.

He wanted to cherish that trait of yours.

You were kind-hearted.

[thefoxandthepenguine]

Your Name Engraved Herein (Part 1)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have known Wanda since you were ten until destiny drifted you apart. What would happen when you meet her twelve years later after you join the avengers?

Warnings: Mention of blood and death, bullying, fluff

Word count: 3.2k

a/n: Here comes Wanda! I had a brief idea of how this story should go but it's still a bit messy in my brain. So feel free to tell me what you think about this setting by commenting, reblogging or sending me ask! Btw I dunno anything about Russian so I just google translate it. Please tell me if I made any mistake. And also lemme know if you want to be added in the tag list :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Christmas Spin-off

Chapter 1

Novi Grad, Sokovia, 1999

You did not remember exactly when was the last time you spoke. It was probably the night when you had the last supper with your family.

It was a regular dinner, as normal as it could be. You were sharing what happened that day with your parents when they tried to correct your pronunciation and grammar as usual, “you had lunch at school with Mila, not ‘have lunch in school’, honey.”

You grumbled annoyingly, “why would I have to learn English anyway?”

Your parents exchanged chuckles and held your palm on the table. “Because your mama and papa teach English at school? Now try that again.”

You were going to retort, but the next thing you knew, something blew up at your ears and a sharp pain surged through your body. Everything went dark the next moment.

//

You struggled to open your eyes. The dining room you sat in moments ago was devastated now. When your gaze fell to the ground, you found your parents buried deep down under the debris. Light was dimming in their eyes, blood was draining away from their bodies and their skin grew paler as time passed by.

“Mama…papa…” As you moved your fingers to reach for them, a burning pain coursed through your body.

You tried to scream for help until you realized it was pointless. Nobody could hear you under the piles of rubber with people screaming everywhere and bombs going off nearby. Your eyes grew heavy as you felt something warm running across your face.

“Somebody please…”

Yes. This was probably the last time you spoke.

//

Every time when you closed your eyes, you could see your parents’ lifeless faces vividly. Sleeping itself was a nightmare to you, let alone the dreams. You thought of asking for help, from someone. Anyone.

But it did not matter anyway.

The nurses and doctors in the hospital were too busy to address you. The adults from the government department would simply pet your hair and tell you it was going to be fine, a lot of children experienced the same thing as you did, and you were going to live with them. You were going to make a lot of friends.

You tried to open your mouth to say something but nothing came out. The woman’s brows snapped together so you forced a halfhearted smile at her before she turned around and repeated exactly the same thing to the child lying on the bed next to you. But if you knew any better what she meant by ‘friends’, you would probably save it to yourself.

//

You felt something hit you hard on your temple as you walked into the hall for lunch. Your head was still a bit dizzy from the blow when someone bumped into your shoulder, and you fell hard on the ground.

You heard footsteps surrounding you the next second. “я сказал тебе, она не заговорит! (I told you, she won’t speak)” Someone grabbed your hair from behind and the others just cheered for whoever did that.

It started with gossiping around you when the children found out you did not talk, and it did not take long for everything to become physical once they figured out you would not snitch on them.

A voice froze everyone in the hall when you were expecting a hit on your stomach, “вы��троиться в очередь и получить свою еду! (Line up and get your food)”

You noticed two children, a boy and a girl, staring at you from a distance when the others fled away. You had never seen them before. However, they turned away in sync when they felt your eyes on them.

Madame Vasiliev looked down at you, “и вам того же. (You as well)” You nodded without saying anything and walked to the end of the queue.

//

A sigh of exhaustion let out when you stepped into the dormitory and saw your blanket and pillow scattered on the floor, along with your books and almost everything you had under your bed. The girls snickered when they saw you frowned.

You tried hard to fight back the tears in your eyes when you picked up your belongings from the floor. The girl you saw in the afternoon was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, which was still empty till yesterday as no one was willing to sleep besides you.

She looked at you in silence as you put the pillow and blanket back on the bed. She was probably regretting picking this bed the moment she realized you slept next to her.

You lay on the bed and covered your head with the blanket as the light turned off in the dormitory. You could not help the tears falling out from your eyes eventually.

//

You were surprised to find Madame Vasiliev when you entered the hall for breakfast the next morning.

You were relieved. That meant no beating up. In the morning.

You were sitting in the corner, eating alone when someone grabbed your bread from the plate. You looked up instinctively to search for Madame Vasiliev, only to find her gone already.

It was the new boy you saw yesterday. He was gloating over the bread in his hand. “What you doing Pietro?” You saw the girl approaching his back from behind. You were surprised to find her talking in English. That was the first time you heard English since your parents died.

The boy, Pietro you assumed, split the bread into halves and handed one of them to the girl. “Look what I found сестра! (sister)”

Oh…so they were siblings.

“Where did you-?” The girl stared at Pietro in confusion, her brows knitted until she met your gaze and noticed the empty plate in front of you. “Give it back to her!” You could still tell she was furious even though she lowered her voice.

“But I’m hungry! Don’t worry Wanda. She can’t talk! She won’t tell Madame Vasiliev.” Pietro tried to persuade her but Wanda just glared at him.

“Leave her alone, Pietro! I’ll give you mine in lunch.” Pietro pouted at his sister and grimaced at you before putting the bread back onto your plate.

You blinked in confusion at what had just happened. You met Wanda’s gaze again and she was looking at you apologetically. “Я сожалею о том, что он сделал. (I’m sorry for what he had done)”

You looked down at your lap and fidgeted your fingers. You could tell she was turning around and leaving at the peripheral of your vision. You tried to open your mouth -

“Thank you.” Your voice was raspy, probably because you had not spoken in a long time.

Wanda turned around and you could tell she was shocked to hear your voice.

You were shocked to hear your voice.

“So you can speak. And in English.” She tilted her head and sized you up in interest.

“I-I…”

“Wanda! Leave her there!” You were cut off by Pietro who grabbed Wanda’s wrist and urged her to leave. “The others are looking!”

It was when you looked around and felt people’s gaze on you. You looked down on your bread again and Wanda was no longer next to you anymore.

//

You were not sure why you did that. But you followed Wanda all the way once breakfast time was over. You stood right behind her when you were lining up. You left your usual spot and sat at the other end of the long table where Wanda was during lunch. You grabbed a book and stayed in the same corner with her during free time.

You could feel Pietro’s glare on you everytime when you were around, but you chose to ignore that.

Both Pietro and Wanda did not talk to you though. It was until Wanda finished her dinner first and went to place her utensils in the cart when Pietro sat down next to you, “if you walk closer to my sister again, I’ll beat you. We aren’t friends even though she helped you.”

He left you alone when Wanda returned back to her seat. You tried to glance at her from the corner of your eyes, but all you could see was Pietro gesturing his fist towards you. You drifted your gaze immediately and did not dare to look at Wanda again.

//

Wanda was watching the television with her parents and Pietro in the living room. The four of them. Until the Stark Industry shell hit their house.

“Mama…papa…”

She hid under the bed with Pietro as the second shell hit their house, landing just three feet away from her face.

The red light on the shell was blinking and beeping fiercely as time passed by. When she thought the bomb was going to go off, everything blurred and she was watching the television again. The four of them.

“No…please no…”

A gentle pat on her arm roused Wanda from her sleep. She sprang open her eyes, her chest heaving, and she could feel her pillow dampened. Wanda tried to catch her breath as she felt someone tightened the grip on her hand. It was the girl sleeping next to her bed, looking worriedly at her.

“I’m sorry…did I wake you?” Wanda whispered. The girl just smiled sheepishly and shook her head.

The girl hummed a lullaby softly. It was so soft that Wanda almost missed it if she was not standing next to her bed. But still, she recognized the song. It was the one her mum used to sing to Pietro and her when they were small.

Her eyes grew heavy again. This time she did not wake until the morning.

Wanda was the first to wake up in the dormitory. She looked at the bed next to her instinctively but only to find it empty. She scanned the room and found the girl dozing off on the ground, holding her knees to herself and curling up like a ball.

She was about to wake her when Madame Vasiliev rushed in. “вставайте, дамы! (Get up ladies)”

//

Wanda walked into the hall with Pietro for breakfast. She was expecting the girl to sit at the same table with her as yesterday. Yet she was sitting in her usual corner again. Alone.

“I think she will sit with us.”

“She better not.” Pietro mumbled when he was popping the food into his mouth.

“Pietro!” Wanda sized his brother up suspiciously, “did you do anything to her?”

“…No!” Pietro choked on the water and avoided eye contact with her.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Wanda shook her head and looked over her shoulder again. The girl was picking up her bread from the ground and looked hesitantly at it. Wanda was not sure if she dropped it by herself accidentally or if anyone did it on purpose. “Is she going to -”

Wanda grabbed her plate and moved across the room. Pietro was shocked as she stood up from the seat and tried to stop her from behind, “Wanda!”

The girl was startled when she sat across the table. Wanda split her bread into halves and handed one of them to the girl, “don’t eat the food that fell on the ground.”

The girl did not reach for the bread. Instead, she glanced timidly at Pietro who sighed and sat next to her sister unwillingly.

“Take it.” Wanda forced the bread into her hand. “He’s Pietro Maximoff. I’m Wanda. We’re twins.”

“I'm twelve minutes older than her.” Pietro propped his chin on his hand.

“Pietro!”

The girl in front of them chuckled and whispered, “I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

//

Novi Grad, Sokovia, 2002

Wanda lay on the ground with you, both of you spacing out.

“I wonder when we can leave this place,” you mumbled when staring at the sky.

Wanda chuckled softly and turned her face at you. “You’ve been repeating the same thing for three years, Y/N.”

“And yet I’m still here.” You sighed and stretched yourself on the ground.

“What do you want to do if you can leave?”

“I want to eat cake. Chocolate cake.” You ran your hand in your hair embarrassingly when Wanda laughed at your answer.

“Y/N! Мадам Васильева ищет тебя! (Madame Vasiliev’s looking for you)” A girl shouted when running past you.

Thanks to Pietro’s friendship with the boys…and the girls in the orphanage, the kids left you alone since the Maximoffs hung out with you. They did not become friends with you, but neither were they as hostile as they were when you first moved here.

Wanda and you exchanged glances with each other, both of you frowning. “Why does Madame Vasiliev want to see you?”

You shrugged with confusion before getting up. “I’ll meet you later.”

Wanda nodded and waved goodbye at you.

//

You knocked on the door and waited for the “come in” before turning the handle.

You saw Madame Vasiliev sitting in her usual spot, as well as two adults sitting across from her in the guest chairs. They turned around and smiled at you as you stepped into the room.

You recognized they were the visitors last week. The children were so excited as they came since they were generous in giving out snacks and stationery. Some of them still talked about their visit till now.

“Good evening, Madame Vasiliev. Good evening, Sir and Madame.” You fidgeted your fingers behind your back nervously when you greeted them, not sure if you had done anything wrong on the day of their visit.

Three of them nodded and smiled satisfactorily at you as Madame Vasiliev gestured you to walk closer and stand next to her.

“Y/N, I believe you remember Sir and Madame Fedorov visited us last week. They’re actually here looking for a child to adopt.” Your eyes widened in surprise at what Madame Vasiliev was insinuating.

The lady, Madame Fedorov, walked closer and knelt down in front of you to meet your gaze. “I can’t wait for you to join our family!” She was smiling softly when talking to you.

You could feel your heart beating fiercely as Madame Vasiliev continued to speak, “you’re leaving with Sir and Madame Fedorov tomorrow. Go back to your room and get yourself ready.”

You nodded dumbly until Madame Vasiliev waved you off. Both Sir and Madame Fedorov hugged you before you left the room.

It was like a dream. Everything was perfect. More than perfect.

You had been living here for three years and you understood how rare a child could be adopted in times like this. Most of all, the man and the woman seemed nice and wealthy enough to provide you a better life out of this cage.

But then why did your stomach twitch all the way when you were walking into your dormitory?

//

All the girls stopped chatting the moment you stepped into the room. You could feel their gaze on your back as you shoved your belongings into a bag.

You looked over to the bed next to you, only to find Wanda’s back at you. You tried to whisper her name a few times but she did not respond. Maybe she was asleep already. You wondered if she knew you were leaving tomorrow.

//

You could not sleep.

It had been a while since the light turned off in the dormitory, and yet you could not sleep even though you knew tomorrow was going to be a big day. You could not afford to screw it up.

Your mind was drifting as you felt someone slid into your blanket. You moved to the side to free the space for her. Just as usual.

“I thought you’re asleep.” You whispered and turned around to look at Wanda, but she had her eyes squeezed shut.

Neither of you spoke for a while until Wanda broke the silence, “when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fast.”

You nodded without saying anything. You thought she fell asleep again until you saw the tears falling from the corner of her eyes and dampened your pillow.

Wanda still had her eyes squeezed shut.

“Wanda…” You squeezed her hand under the blanket and snuggled closer to her.

“I’m happy for you, Y/N.” Wanda finally opened her eyes and forced a reassuring smile at you. “You can finally leave this place.”

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered and tried to wipe your own tears running down your cheeks with your sleeves. But they just kept falling.

“I-I’ll miss you too. Just…remember to write to me and tell me what you’ve done outside.” Tears were shimmering in her eyes.

“I will.”

//

Most of the children went to the front door the next day when you were going to leave. You knew they did not come to say goodbye to you, but just to admire the car and in hopes of getting some more candies.

Your gaze swept over the crowd to look for Wanda. However, you could only find Pietro forcing his way through the crowd and wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“I’ll miss you. Take good care of yourself Pietro…and Wanda as well.” You tried hard to hold back the tears as you pulled away.

“You too Y/N. I told Wanda to come down and say goodbye to you. But I guess she’s too upset.”

You nodded but you still looked at the crowd instinctively for one last time, hoping to see her face at the last minute.

No such luck.

Sir and Madame Fedorov urged you to get in the car and you complied eventually.

//

2 days later

You found Wanda leaning against the corridor when you walked out of Madame Vasiliev’s room.

You almost lost your balance when Wanda threw herself at you the moment she saw you. “I don’t believe Pietro when he told me you’re back…what happened Y/N?”

“I-uh…I suppose I’m not their ideal daughter,” you tried to laugh it off and turned your face slightly to the left as Wanda pulled away.

You were hoping she would not notice the mark but apparently you underestimated her. “Wh-what happened?” You hissed when Wanda tried to touch your face, “did they - oh my god…did they hit you?”

“What’s your punishment again Y/L/N?” You froze when you heard the door slammed open behind you.

“No food for three days. And I have to clean the orphanage until you tell me to st-”

Madame Vasiliev slapped you in your face again before you could finish the sentence. “Then why are you still standing here? Do. It. Now!” Madame Vasiliev almost forced the word out through her clenched jaw and you could feel your face burning, from both pain and embarrassment.

You nodded and ran off immediately as you heard footsteps following you in the back.

Wanda grabbed your wrist when you turned around the corner. “Y/N…your face…What should I…”

You flashed a reassuring grin to her. “Don’t worry. It’s…I-it’s nothing.”

Wanda’s eyes welled up. “Don’t lie to me! Madame Vasiliev was never so angry at you! What did you-did you do anything to them?”

“I…I called them ‘Сволочь (scum)’.”

“What-why?” Wanda’s jaw was dropping on the ground and you could not help yourself but giggled.

“I think…uh it’s because they stink.”

Both of you burst into laughter so hard that you forgot the pain on your face for a while.

[whaleofatjme1920]

(Anon who asked if TF2 headcannons were open)

Oh cool! Is there a reason why you didnt open the Creepypasta headcannons?

Also could I get Offense classes react to an S/O who takes time into helping them read? (Since the offense classes technically cant read or have a difficulty in reading)

S/O also has lots of patience for them.

Offense Class with an SO Who Helps them Read

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: like, none?]

[AN: The first thing that came to mind was Belle helping the Beast learn to read. Adorable.]

Scout

Jeremy can read at a very, very, low level. He has problems actually pronouncing words and you get that because English is a really bizarre language.

So, you taking the time to actually help him with his reading skills after you convince him that he's in a safe place and won't be bagged on??? He's actually really appreciative.

You go through the whole process with him, finding fun stories for him to keep his interest. It's a night time routine between the two of you. You're not babying him, but, reading before bedtime is a must now.

I feel like, in a modern lens, social media is weirdly helpful for him too. When the two of you watch TV, you'll put the captions on! That honestly really helps him learn how to read.

Sometimes he gets a little frustrated but your patience makes him feel safe to keep going.

Jeremy actually really gets into it because you're helping him. He likes the stories you choose for him, and when you gently correct him, he isn't near as puffy as he would be if someone else was trying to correct him. He feels like you're a safe place for learning and not getting made fun of. Yes, he tells his mother about his growing skills and she's thankful he has a good partner like you in his life.

Soldier

Jane hasn't ever wanted to learn how to read but after you gently suggesting and offering your help, he decides to learn. You tell him it's so he can read the Declaration of Independence and other American documents and well, that's all it takes.

He comes in with such STRONG determination to learn how to read. And y'know, I think he actually picks it up relatively well!

He does not take the slow route, you have to run to catch up with him. He wants to read the amendments he absolutely will.

It's actually heartwarming how reading actually expands his knowledge and eventually brings him to learning about birds and nature!! The two of you go to famous American war sites/museums and he attempts to read everything.

Jane demands reading everything to you, and when you gently correct him, he says something like "thanks, son."

Literally you cannot get him to stop reading thing out loud.

Pyro

Pyro asks you very softly if you can teach them to read. They trust you to take it easy with them.

So of course you help them!! It starts with you reading to them, getting them used to how words sound when read off, and then you move to like, fairytales for them to read aloud to you. They have a lot of enthusiasm but they're really shy.

You also help them with writing, as they tend to spell phonetically! The two of you do a lot of grammar work.

They actually become quite eloquent down the line. Early in the process, in their spare time, they start to write stories and read those out to you as practice.

It's actually really sweet to see how they flourish under your guidance. You knew they always could, with or without your help, but you know they appreciate you.

Pyro is so excited to be making progress. I like to think that Pyro teaches you ASL for you helping them reading and writing.

[screadingchallenge]

Behind the Keyboard: Volume 5

Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.  

Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.

Remember, this year’s Reading Challenge begins July 15, so polish up those MFL lists.

Let’s meet our next author:

Surreal / @surreal666​

How many fics have you written? 

Literally hundreds over 20+ years. No way to know!

When did you publish your first fic on AO3?

2012 when it was created by friends from fandoms I was in at the time. At that time, the only way to get an account was through invitation and we all had to pass them along to each other. Our Profile number is what number user we were - one of my friends from fandoms of old has #8, as she was one of the builders. Some fics have older dates as they had been migrated from other archives.

Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3. 

Usually starts with one scene, piece of dialogue, or visual image that I can’t get out of my head. I work it through in my head first, let it grow. Embarrassingly, if I’m alone at home, I’ll even act out things out loud and practice facial expressions to understand how they could sound, look, within a scene. Let scenes develop, and once things start building into something solid I start a Word document for notes. Nowadays Google Docs is helpful for this part. Document consists of an outline of scenes in vague order, along with any dialogue that I want in that part. Anything that requires research will have descriptions and links for my own reference. For shorter fics, it’s less extensive. Longer ones, I’ll create two documents: one with the story notes, the other with the actual story. As I write the story and complete scenes, I will delete them from my notes page so I know it was completed. When I feel like I covered everything in my notes page and that it’s complete, I read it over several times for grammar, characterization, consistency, etc. Once I feel like it’s ready, I copy/paste the whole thing into AO3. If there’s any formatting required, I generally put in my own HTML tags (italics, bold, etc) in the original text. Images, links, and skins are handled once it’s in AO3. When posting, think about the whole story and put in any tags that will draw readers for specific interests but not give any spoilers. Use the “Preview” option and make sure all the formatting looks good, and do general clean-up until everything is perfect (formatting-wise) and publish.

Tell me about your most recent fic? What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better? 

“All Things Being Equal” I absolutely love this fic. It started with one scene in my head - David meeting Patrick at Ray’s, not realising Patrick didn’t stand up to greet him because Patrick was in a wheelchair (hidden behind his desk) and thought Patrick was being rude. It took me a year to get up the courage to write it because it was a story about someone who was paraplegic - an experience I don’t have. It wasn’t my story to tell so when I decided I couldn’t let it go, I reached out to the Schitty Book Club on Facebook for people who did have experience in one way or another. Crowdsourcing, as it were. I did my own research as well, and spent a LOT of time on YouTube, listening to podcasts, etc. When I was ready, I asked one of those people who helped with resources to beta the fic since she had experience in this area. She absolutely made it so much better through her amazing support of some choices I made and correcting one full scene where I had an important reality totally wrong. I felt like it was an important story to tell - that disabled people can and do have healthy relationships that include sex and it’s not scary to talk about it. And after posting, I received the most incredible comment from a reader who felt represented in a way she had never had before and that alone made everything worth it. As for doing anything better - always. There is so much more I could have included but it was already at 30k words which is a very high word count for me. I may consider revisiting that ‘verse in the future with short follow-ups.

What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time? 

Consider who you wrote the story for. You should always write the story YOU want to read, the story that you wrote for yourself. And use a beta!!!

Plot vs vibes - pick one. 

Vibes

What parts of writing are easy for you? What parts are hard? 

Dialogue is easy, sometimes they just won’t shut up! Hardest is plot. I’m not the most creative person, though in previous fandoms I’ve had much better luck with original concepts than I do in Schitt’s. It really depends on the fandom, honestly.

  In your mind, what’s the most important element of good writing? 

Patience. Learning to stop, even in the middle of a scene, and really listen to the character’s voices. Consider what they’re saying, what they’re feeling in the moment. Take the time to pause and listen to them. It will make any scene so much better when you give it time to breathe.

Tell me about one of your favorite headcanons. 

David is a recovering addict and has the self-awareness to face his weaknesses. The drug addiction issue is canon, mentioned in the first episode by Johnny in reference to the whole family, and we hear David mention using E another time, so it’s implied that it was an ongoing thing. This was the idea that brought me to write my first SC fic - “I say thank you, for pulling me through” - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971566. There’s a moment where David defers all handling of his prescription pain medication to Patrick and Patrick’s mom asks him about it later. Patrick explains about David’s history and the trust David has in Patrick to keep him in line.

What are your three favorite tropes? 

Hurt/Comfort all the way. Forever!!! Two others: There Was Only One Bed, and what we called way back in the day “The Canadian Shack.” Canadian Shack is anything where the characters are forced to shelter in a tiny, isolated place (usually due to extreme weather and hypothermia) and it forces them to face their feelings.

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

They met in the rain| Hunter

Note: god I love this one, also RIP grammar I did this on my phone on a farm

Warnings: mentions of basically space pornhub but nothing really explicit, Hunter figuring out what his sexuality is and making very unreasonable conclusions because hes basically scared bc well I do that too

Reader: male

Masterlist

Hunter stood under the oning. The rain heavy and droplets big. A asortment of marigolds in his hand looking for the girl he was ment to meet, he himself dressed up in polished armour, he didnt have many chlothes to choose from so polished and clean armour seemed the best option.

Yet the more he waited the more disappointed he became, and hour later no one showed up, two hours later still no one. He sighed.

Why?

"Hey! Mind me taking a spot next to you?" A man asked rushing under the oning.

Hunter nodded as the man stood next to him hair once done nice soaked and stuck to his face his chlothes soaked. It was quiet between the two.

"You okay?" Y/n called over the rain.

"Huh?" Hunter questioned, "I'm. Fine."

Y/n frowned, "You don't seem very fine."

Hunter sighed, "date stand you up too?"

Y/n chuckled, "yeah. Yeah he did."

"He?" Hunter questioned Y/n sighed.

"Yeah. He." Y/n spoke, "he was a real smooth talker too."

Hunter let out a low laugh, "seems we had the same problem."

Y/n looked back seeing a bench, sitting himself down Hunter looked back, Y/n patting the spot next to him. Hunter sat down flowers besides him.

"What's your name?" Hunter questioned.

"Y/n." He smiled, "you?"

"Hunter."

Y/n nodded, "you're a clone, a...Sargeant am I correct?"

Hunter looked over at him a bit shocked, "uh, yeah."

"I had a good friend that was a clone. He went missing a while ago. Taught me everything I know today." Y/n spoke.

"What was his name?" Hunter questioned.

"Kix." Y/n spoke.

"You were a republic medic." Hunter responded.

Y/n nodded, "you knew kix?"

"Not much we did one mission together." Hunter admitted, "loyal to his brothers."

Y/n nodded, it becoming silent between the two, Hunter felt good, someone that understood his struggle of being an outside besides him.

"So. When did you start dating guys?" Hunter blurted out causing Y/n's head to turn, "Wait! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that-"

"No. No." Y/n laughed, "its okay. You know Kix asked me that exact way, think it confused him a little bit at first as I was dating a female twilek just before hand,"

"Oh." Hunter spoke quietly, "You...you can date both?"

"Um. Yeah." Y/n spoke, "why not?"

"Dating anybody wasnt really allowed in the GAR. Especially-"

"Within clone ranks. Right." Y/n spoke, "I kind of forget about that stuff sometimes...this was your first date then?"

Hunter nodded, Y/n frowning, stood up on his first date. Wow.

"Right now Im thinking it would of been better to ask you out rather than her." Hunter spoke with a nervous smile but then immediately started to correct himself, "Well! Not- It's not, I"

"Its okay. Really." Y/n smiled, " Dating is hard."

Hunter looked away from him and down at his hands. His mind running through the conversation over and over, Y/n dated a man and a woman, and seemed perfectly happy with it. He felt dirty for even dating a woman, sure clones had...needs, but he had always taken care of them himself. Hunter wouldnt lie, when he had to take care of his needs with a video or two to help. He found himself gazing in a different direction each and every time. It mostly started with females dominating over males, then leaned towards men being well- pegged. He found it okay, it was still a woman and man, just different. Then he had found male on male videos, the idea of someone ontop of him in such a way made his climaxs much more intense the idea of someone grabbing his face and making him look up at him with such deep and mysterious eyes made with a strong grip of a males hand made him go crazy. But well. He had brothers.

What were they going to think? And Omega? That little girl who has his heart, a daughter in his eyes. What would she think? That he was gross? That he was werid? That he would try and advance on his brothers? Unreasonable things had started going through his head. But he always seemed to boil them down to just fantasies. Something that would never have, like a dream. That would be until he seen a man at Cid's bar, sure a girl on each arm a firm grip on there waist as he was obviously wealthy, but that didn't matter, his eyes were a a crazy purple color, his voice was smooth and deep, and well. He...he was mind blowing to Hunter. The man walked up to them, taller than Hunter, and a deep chuckle on his words as he explained the job he wanted done. Hunter luckily managed to cover his red ears with his bandanna and act normal.

Thats not what he wanted, a flirt? Sure a bit. But he wanted a relationship, a loving partner and as cliche as he thought it was he wanted a story book romance. He found himself even more in a pickle when he started looking at both women and men in the same light. Confused and conflicted he shut himself off, any one to advance him for such a relationship or act he turned away or walked away before he could be asked.

But this girl? Man was she the one. She'd come to cids bar to ask just for him, bring the boys the cookies and all, he thought they had something, but he supposed not. Not a comn link chatter, or a woman in sight. Just him and Y/n, sitting on a bench with then rain infront of them.

"Hey? You-"

"Go on a date with me." Hunter blurted out once again, his body even leaning forward toward Y/n in such a way.

Y/n blinked in confusion, "Im. I'm sorry." He laughed a bit out of shock.

Hunter retracted back, Y/n quickly stopping his by grabbing his hand.

"Hey,wait you just shocked me is all. You were all quiet for a mintue there." Y/n told him, Hunter's face and ears red.

"I. Im sorry." Hunter told, he was never this shy, stuttering in such ways.

"Am I your first male date?" Y/n questioned Hunter just nodded Y/n smiling smally.

"I'm honored, and would love to go on a date with you." Y/n smiled, "how about we go now?"

Y/n stood up Hunter's hand in his picking him up to his feet.

"Come on! We can go to a caf shop! Or watch a holo movie!" Y/n tried to pursuade.

"Now?" Hunter questioned.

Y/n nodded, "I think we're both free and dressed for the occasion anyways."

Hunter chuckled, it felt good to laugh and Y/n smiled.

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Y/n smiled, "lets go then! Come on! A new Vemon holo just came out!"

Hunter laughed as they went hand in hand running down the street to tried and pass the rain as quick as possible.

Hunter was glad, he had found someone who made him genuinely happy in such a hard time. Someone that understood him to a degree. Someone as simple as a stranger, and if others didnt like it well, who cared? Many people never cared about clones anyways. Hunter felt safe hand in hand with this man he had met in the rain.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[killianglyndon]

Reunion (tbb ep.16 fix-it fic)

Pairing: Crosshair x Medic! Female Reader

Warning: tbb ep.16 spoilers, mentioned of killing people, inhibitor chip?, some kissing, grammar mistakes, typo (cause i didn’t proof read lol. im too tired to do that.)

A/N: anyway, i was so mad and sad about tbb finale, so i decided to write a fix-it fic. That doesn’t mean I hate the episode, this is just my version of story. im not really good at writing so...haha. that’s why im a gifmaker, also my main language is not English, so there would have some typos and grammar mistakes.

Word count: 1.6k

read on ao3

You and The Bad Batch were on the way to save Hunter. You knew this would be a trap, but you couldn’t help but think of a certain sniper, your lover.

You and the batch didn’t understand what had happened to him at first, his brother, your love. The way he called you and the batch traitor, the way he raised his gun to you, and the way he talked. This wasn’t him, this was not the crosshair you know. 

Then, it turned out that the kaminoans had implanted inhibitor chips in every clone to make clones blindly follow orders, even killing the jedi.

“Good soldiers follow orders” This line kept echoing in your head after you heard Crosshair say it. This, this was not the crosshair you know.

***

“You and omega wait here” Echo told you and omega.

“No, we should stick together!” Omega protested. 

You put a hand on Omega’s shoulder, trying to calm her.

“No, echo’s right” Wrecker agreed with him.

“Stay out of sight, if things go south we’ll send you a signal. Go back to the ship and contact Rex.” Echo added, looking at you and omega.

You gave him a nod and pulled Omega back to your side before watching them ascend to the training room.

You know how much Hunter meant to Omega, the way they interacted, and the way they cared for each other. You understood why the young girl looked up to him.

“Omega, I’m sure they’ll get Hunter back.” You reassured her.

“I know, and Crosshair.” She looked at you with her bright eyes.

You were a little shocked when she mentioned him. All this time, you tried so hard to suppress your feelings for him, your love for him. The batch knew that you missed him, they could tell. The way you stared into his empty bed, and the nights that you cried until you were too tired and the tears were dried.

“Yeah, and Crosshair…” You smiled sadly at the young girl.

***

When you and Omega joined the batch in the training room, you, Omega, and AZI stayed in one of the gun towers. That was when you saw him, your Crosshair. Hunter and he were tackling each other while Tech, Echo, and Wrecker were shooting the droids.

“I believe you may have activated a few too many droids.” AZI said to Omega and you.

“ We can see that, AZI.” Omega raised her bow, aiming for the nearest droid to Hunter and Crosshair. Meanwhile, you used your blaster to shoot some of the droids near the others.

***

After clearing out all the droids, you, Omega, and AZI joined the others on the ground. You walked closer to Crosshair and Hunter. 

You could see that Crosshair was shocked to see you, the coldness in his eyes, mixing up with a tiny bit of shock.

The big scar on the right side of his head was horrifying, did the empire did this to him? Your heart almost broke into million pieces, seeing the love of your life like this.

“Crosshair…” Your voice almost sounded like a whisper. 

For a moment, you see the real Crosshair, your Crosshair. But soon replaced by the coldness and aloofness.

“Crosshair, forget the empire. This isn’t you, it’s the inhibitor chip.” Hunter tried to talk some senses into him.

“Wrong.” Crosshair stared back at Hunter. “I had my chip removed a long time ago.” He added.

All of you looked shocked, Tech and Wrecker looked at each other, speechless. Hunter almost looked hurt. 

“Since when?” Hunter asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes”

No. No. This is not Crosshair. The Crosshair you know would never do this.

“Cross, the empire lied about many things, what if they lied to you?” You asked, trying to hold back your tears.

“This is who I am.” 

Crosshair tried to raise his rifle, but Hunter was faster. He stunned him before Crosshair’s attempt.

***

“Hunter, three Venators are descending on the city. We need to leave, now.” Tech stated.

“Wrecker, grab Crosshair. He’s coming with us.” Hunter grabbed Crosshair’s rifle and backpack, while you went to picked up Crosshair’s helmet.

You saw Omega gave Hunter a nod before walking away. Hunter caught you staring at him, so you gave a sad smile to him in return.

“He’s coming home with us.” Hunter said.

***

You and The Batch finally made it to Nala Se’s lab, Tech and Echo were currently trying to figure out a plan. After Crosshair and Hunter’s intense conversation, you saw him walking to the window and taking a seat to rest.

“AZI, come with me, I need your help on something.” You asked.

AZI followed you to Crosshair, you took a seat beside him.

“Crosshair…”

“What do you want?” He asked coldly.

“AZI is a medical droid, he can scan you to check if you still have the chip.”

“Indeed, I helped CT-5555 removed his and CT-5385’s chip according to my memory database.” AZI said.

“Fine.” Crosshair agreed reluctantly.

“CT-9904, this scan only takes a few seconds” AZI said before scanning Crosshair.

To be honest, you knew he still had the chip, you hoped he still had the chip. Cause there was no way, no way the Crosshair you knew would be like this.

“The scan is completed.” AZI said.

“So..?” You asked.

“CT-9904 still has his chip, the chip’s effect was weakened due to the injury from ion engine.” AZI answered.

You felt almost relieved? 

The Batch heard it and rushed to you, “He still has...his chip?” Hunter asked, sounded a little guilty.

Echo, Tech, Omega, and Wrecker looked at each other, surprised by this unexpected news as well.

“That would be correct.”AZI replied.

“Could you remove it, AZI?” Omega asked, she wanted his brother back as much as any of you did.

“Yes. I’m capable of removing CT-9904’s inhibitor chip.”

“Do it.” Hunter said.

You stayed next to Crosshair while AZI removed his chip. The surgery was faster than you think, you hold Crosshair’s hand during the whole surgery, and you still holding it now.

“CT-9904’s chip has been removed. He should be awake in any minutes.” AZI stated.

You felt his hand pressing yours, “Crosshair?”

“I...I…”

“Hey, you’re okay now. We removed your chip.” You reassured him.

Crosshair looked away from you, his eyes filled with guilt, confusion, anger, sadness.

“Don’t you hate me?” He asked. “All those things I had done…”

Your hand reached out to stroke his face, “No. Never. I know it’s the chip, Cross. It’s not your fault.” You smiled at him. “I love you, always and forever.” 

Crosshair put his hand on your face, wiping away the tears falling down your face. “ But I shot at you, I tried to kill you… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Shhh, I forgive you, Cross. All of it. I’m sorry we didn’t come to save you earlier…” 

Crosshair sat up and pulled you into a hug, you melted into his touch, inhaling his scent. Your Crosshair was finally back to you, this is real. The sleepless night without him, the loneliness, the emptiness, the desperation, were all gone. Crosshair was back to you, alive.

“I love you too, cyare.” He said it back.

He pulled away a little so he could kiss you on the lips, his hand trailed to your nape, kissing you with force. You and Crosshair clung on to each other so hard, afraid you would lose each other again. That was when you heard Hunter cleared his throat, you two finally pulled away from each other.

“I know you two miss each other but this lab is about to collapse. and this is not very…” Hunter said and eyed Omega.

“Right, sorry about that.” You answered, then looked at Crosshair whose arm was still wrapped around you. “Cross.” You nudged him.

“Fine.” He gave up and retreated his arm.

“I see Crosshair still has his severe and unyielding personality.” Tech stated.

“This is called missing someone, Tech.” Crosshair said and pulled out one toothpick to throw it at him.

“Ha! He’s back!” Wrecker exclaimed and playfully punched Crosshair’s shoulder. 

Crosshair pretended to show an annoyed face, but deep down you knew he missed his brothers.

“Listen, Crosshair. I’m sorry. We should have come for you earlier.” Hunter said. “I was trying to keep the rest of the squad safe, but you are one of us. I’m sorry.”

Crosshair didn’t say anything, just stood up and walk toward Hunter. For a moment you thought he was going to punch him, but instead, Crosshair extended his hand to Hunter.

Hunter looked at Crosshair’s hand then his eyes, he reached out his hand to shake Crosshair’s. 

“We need to leave fast, the structure could not hold much longer.” AZI chimed in.

***

All of you finally made it to the platform, for once the Kamino is sunny.

Omega stared at the Tipoca City, which was all destroyed. “It’s… all gone.”

You looked at that direction, the place all clones called home was all gone. The Batch and you took a few seconds to process this, to accept the fact.

“We should leave before Empire’s scouts show up.” Tech said.

“You coming with us?” Wrecker asked, looking at Crosshair.

“Yeah.” Crosshair said and took out a toothpick, putting it into his mouth.

Hunter nodded at him before walking to the ship with the others.

You still stood next to Crosshair, “You ready?” you asked.

“Yeah.” He gave you a little smile then intertwined his hand with yours, leading you to the Marauder. 

You didn’t know what the future would be, but one thing was sure. Crosshair would be right beside you, always and forever.

tagging: @ahsoka1 @kavecika @starwarschicken @itsjml @ct-1994 @loth-wolffe-main @theiirs @thefeatherofhope @ahs0ka-tan0 @mallr4ts @kriffclone

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: you’re going to a chistmas party with your ex in attendance and you try to find a replacement as quick as possible. 

♡ song suggestion: HIP - MAMAMOO

♡ pairing: jon kent (superboy) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes 

“i can’t just go to this party and not show up with a date, do you know how humiliating that is?” you exclaimed to Damian, chugging back the last bit of wine you had in your glass, “it’s easy for you to show up like that because you’re fucking Bruce Wayne’s son and you aren’t the one who actually lied here...I DID!” 

Damian saw the panic arising in your eyes as you tried to come up with just anything to get out of the Wayne Christmas party but nothing was coming up in order to actually get you out of it. it was too late to actually back out and you swore to Damian you’d attend the party so it wouldn’t be so miserable for him. 

“who exactly did you lie to that you’re that deep into a lie?” Damian asked, kicking his legs up on his desk. “Michael from human resources! he’s been up my ass about taking me out that i finally broke one day and said I was already in a relationship and while he did back off, he’s expecting me to bring a date,” you confessed. 

Damian started laughing again, not knowing whether to fire Michael to finally put you out of your misery or actually take the opportunity to make you meet his oh so single best friend...Jon Kent. he sat on the idea for a few minutes as you ran your fingers through your hair nervously. 

“good lord, if I bring a friend of mine as your date, will you be quiet?” you looked at him in confusion. “you have friends?” you laughed, instantly dodging his wad of paper. 

“for your information, I actually do,” you sighed, not really knowing if you wanted to take him up on the offer, “he’s a friend of mine from Metropolis. he’ll say yes, it’s up to you,” you cautiously agreed, threatening him that if his so called ‘friend’ ended up being some creep, you were within your rights to hurt him. 

as you and Damian exited the building, you saw the copious amounts of reporters standing to the side, trying to capture photos of Damian or getting information on the party for tomorrow. 

you sighed, giving the reporters the middle finger, not really in the mood to deal with their bs. there were a few times those nosey reporters had made stories about you and Damian. claiming that you were sleeping with him so you could get closer to the Wayne family heir. it didn’t exactly help that you were in the assistant and secretary role as well. 

“wow, feisty aren’t you?” you heard Damian’s eldest brother, Dick, say out of no where. you quickly greeted him, seeing that the street to get out of Wayne Enterprises was getting clogged up with traffic, “see all of you tomorrow! Damian, don’t let me down!” 

Dick looked over to his brother, wondering what you meant by that. “I’m bringing Jon as her date for tomorrow,” he explained. his eyes widened, “really? him?” he asked, surprised that he would even set up a date for someone. “yeah, he has way too much time on his hands and it’d be better for me to set those two up to finally get them out of my hair.” Dick laughed knowing exactly where that could go wrong. 

+ 

the morning finally came, much to your unamused pleasure. you had told Damian that you’d meet him at his place so if anything funny happened with his date, it wouldn’t happen to your embarrassment at your work place. you were not sure who your mystery date was and Damian refused to give you a name. all he had told you was that he worked in Metropolis and had been his friend for years. 

you dragged yourself into the shower and unwillingly got dressed. your makeup was the hardest part of the entire outfit as you were going to try and perfect it as much as possible. you had never really gone all out with the makeup in what felt like years so you figured today would be the day. 

“almost ready?” Damian asked over the phone. you rolled your eyes, “yeah, i’m just pulling my shoes on before heading over to your place,” you responded as you munched on a granola bar, “why do you care?” you asked. 

you heard two voices laugh, “because your date is here so hurry up!” Damian exclaimed before hanging up the phone. you didn’t bother to play into his antics before finishing up. the dress you had bought was something you had from a previous event and up until now, you hadn’t worn it again. 

the dress you had picked was one from a previous event that no one hardly saw. it hugged the curves you wanted to show and you knew it would surprise those who hardly saw you gala or formal party attire. 

you got into your car and chugged back a red bull before heading into Damian’s home. you saw a few cars parked in his garage along with a limo to which you assumed you and a few others were going to take. you annoyingly pushed the doorbell to strike a nerve in Damian. 

“woah,” you heard Dick say as he opened the door, “I know, I look good,” you said smiling. he nodded in agreement as the two of you walked in farther into the house. you could tell Dick kept looking at you every so often and even dropping a few compliments and pick up lines. 

as the two of you were walking, you hadn’t realized you had completely passed Damian and his friend. you were so enamored with your conversation with Dick that it wasn’t until Damian half-annoyed screamed your name out to catch your attention. you turned around and stopped mid way through when you saw Damian and his friend. 

“oh hey,” you whispered, not wanting to look at Damian’s friend in the eye. he was a lot more attractive than you had anticipated. “didn’t know you could actually clean up nicely,” Damian murmured, not even hiding the fact that he was checking you out. 

you gave him the middle finger in response, “this is Jon Kent, Jon, this is ( your name ), I guess she’s my friend,” he rolled his eyes at the last thing he had said. you slowly stuck your hand out to shake but much to your surprise, Jon had shook your hand rather excitedly. 

“nice to meet ya!” he exclaimed, his slight southern drawl coming out. you laughed at his excited tone, “heard a lot about ya!” he continued. you looked at Damian, “aww, you do like me!” you said, a mischievous smile appearing on your face. 

Damian kicked you in the back of the leg before murmuring that all of you needed to head out before any of you got into trouble for being late. you met up with Dick and Tim who were arguing about something as the three of you waited for Alfred to pull up with the car. 

the entire ride to the venue, it was just you and Jon talking here and there. you could tell that Jon was the very exact opposite of Damian and it was a wonder how him and Damian even got along with their personalities being the exact opposite from each other. once the car came to halt, all of you piled out, the cameras immediately snapping as they realized the Wayne’s have arrived. 

“don’t kill them this time,” Damian threatened you as you put up your hands in defense. you looked over to Jon and gave him a small nervous smile, “ready?” he asked as you nodded. 

he put his arm around your waist, tightening it as the two of you walked up to the red carpet. you smiled fakely to the cameras. Jon looked down at you, not expecting this reaction to the paparazzi. “not a fan, eh?” he asked. you shook your head no, “god knows how many times those idiots have thought that Damian and I were together.” 

Jon gave you a look, “but the two of you are like siblings?” you shook your head, “I know but they think we’re hiding behind all of that.” the two of you reached inside of the building to see the long extended tables as you and Jon were seated on a two chaired table. 

Jon pulled your chair out, making sure you were comfortable before sitting down across from you. the menu was pre filled as it was your job to make sure everything on it was correct and put everything they were going to serve for the course of the night. 

“so, what do you for a living in Metropolis?” you asked as they put small appetizers in front of you. Jon smiled, “I work for the newspaper,” he replied, “I bet it’s tough to be Damian’s assistant, huh?” he asked as you nodded yes, dramatically. 

through the course of the night, you and Jon talked, Jon making sure the conversation never died down. you had to give Damian credit. you weren’t exactly trustful in Damian that he would pull through on his blind date for you but Jon up till this point had not made you seem uncomfortable or even slightly creeped out. he was like the perfect gentleman. 

“wanna dance?” Jon asked, getting up from his chair and grabbing your hand softly. you held his hand, giving it a squeeze as a response. 

the two of you walked to the small dance floor as you saw a few of your coworkers, those who were either married or in long term relationships dancing. you gave them a wave as they waved back before going back to their conversations with their partners. 

“I’m glad you came,” you told Jon as you took a sip of your champagne shyly. he looked down to you and grinned, “I’m glad I did too. I wasn’t going too originally but once Damian told me a bit about you, I just knew I had to meet you,” he replied as you hid your face in his shoulder, slightly embarrassed. 

the song playing in the background happened to be a piano rendition of ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’. you had watched Snow White a million times as a child and the fact that this song was playing as you were dancing with someone who you hoped would give you a second date made your heart swell. 

“I have to admit, I’m glad I told Damian as well. the date was so last minute and honestly, Damian is the last person I would ever trust to put me in a blind date situation but I’m happy that he actually pulled through for once.” 

Jon laughed as he bent down a bit and kissed your cheek in response. you noticed that the more nervous Jon got, the more his slight southern accent would come out. you reciprocated the kiss but this time, you kissed him on the lips. he was taken by surprise but nevertheless, he returned it. this time deepening it a bit. 

after the two of you danced a few more songs, you took a break as Jon excused himself to the bathroom and you made a beeline to the bar to refill your glass along with Jon’s. 

“hey there gorgeous,” you heard the voice from the last person you wanted to see. you turned to Michael and gave him a tight lipped smile, “good evening Michael,” you responded, trying to get back to getting your drinks. “I saw you with your little boyfriend earlier but I knew I had to come over here and tell you how fine you looked.” 

you felt yourself wanting to gag by what he was saying as you felt him grab your wrist, “since your boyfriend isn’t around, how about you give me a little dance,” he asked. just as you were about to response, you felt Jon’s presence behind you, “who’s this, baby?” he asked, staring down at Michael. 

to Jon’s credit, he was towering over Michael. “no one,” you replied, shaking yourself off of him, “hiya! I’m Jon, ( your names ) boyfriend. you are?” he asked. Michael scoffed, half scared at how Jon was looming over him, “I’m her coworker,” he replied before leaving. 

you look to Jon in relief, “thank you so much,” you said. he smiled, putting his arm around your waist, “no problem, isn’t that what I’m here for?” he asked with a smile on his face. without actually realizing what you were doing, you happened to snuggle closer to Jon as you saw Damian approaching the two of you. 

throughout the rest of the night, you kept yourself to Jon’s side as you remained with Damian and a few others. every time you left, Jon made sure that once you returned, he always had his arm around your waist or shoulder. Jon’s grasp was firm and even slightly possessive but you did not mind it one bit. 

if you were being honest, you were hoping that at some point in the future, the two of you would get farther than that but for the moment, you enjoyed being in his grasp. 

[stevesbipanic]

"... You try to fit too much needless detail ..." how? This isn't constructive at all. It gives no proper examples or tips to change it, and the most logical conclusion I can gather from this is that they prefer a totally different writing style and type (everyone writes differently and not everyone likes the same stuff) than yours and got bitchy cause they want you to do it their preferred way. This (and the other comments made) is just rude and comes across as very condescending. 'You don't write using this specific paragraph formula so it's bad and you should fix it' is what I'm getting, and it just sounds like some sort of weird, nitpicky grammar gatekeeping.

Giving examples and providing objective examples rather than opinionated ones from someone who probably thinks differently than the author (some people have different attention apans and experience with talking to people) doesn't help anyone.

Constructive criticism is a form of criticism, but not all criticism is constructive or even true.

I actually admire how you can put out so many ficlets so often without getting burnt out. I can post ficlets maybe twice a month, and even then it takes a lot of effort to write. Maybe I'm just a perfectionist, because I always have to find the correct sentence before I can move on to other parts of the story, but it's impressive that you manage to pump out so many good ficlets at all, even without a proper comparison.

Anyways, have a nice night. Goodbye! ~ 🖊

I love how different everyone's writing style is, you really see their personality come through I know for a fact I've read such different styles and I love them. Some people write really detailed settings or are really good at dialogue heavy fics and that's ok if I don't want to do those sometimes.

Most of not all of my ficlets are written and posted in the moment I think of them and they really help with my uni burnout when I want to be productive but just can't do my assignments for whatever reason. Since they're like detailed brain dumps that usually come to a fully formed work as I write them I don't really care about nitpicky things which is why I create ways like my jump in jump out dialogue that helps me keep flow without being dragged down by she said he said stuff.

Thank you hope you have a nice night too ❤️