#anon makes cowards brave

[g-on-ef]

Thank you to everyone who send me nikobran prompts and for checking up on me love and appreciate you guys also just an FYI I'm turning off Anon due to some people harassing me so if you guys wanna send some asks/questions let me know if you want me to answer in anon or with your profile name I'll turn anon back but for now it's turned off

[bucksboobs]

I do think it is extremely telling that me turning off anon has had a 100% rate of preventing hate mail because not a single person is brave enough to make their hatefulness known. And I’m not even that scary a person these people are just cowards.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[sgiandubh]

Life and death of Anon

It's literally only hours after I stopped Anons from being pesky and nasty, that the number of sock accounts who suddenly wish to follow this page is over the roof.

It's literally only seconds after I wrote I will not allow any coward bullying in here anymore, that Anons started to pick on friendly shipper pages. Surely in the hope they will be given the oxygen they so sorely crave to reward a petty ego. Anons don't even make any cloak & dagger effort, anymore. Some righteous petticoats are showing aplenty: mannerisms, schmannerisms, heh. I could name names, even go ahead and prove that they almost copy and paste their own comments written elsewhere, but I won't. That would make them look important and possibly even brave, whereas I would look like the Bad Cop, something that never really interested me.

Come to think of it, there are roughly three main types of Anons who feel the urge to troll our pages:

The Simpleton: that particular Anon is almost always 'new in here' and seems to ask nonsensical questions, just for the sake of annoying the shite out of their hosts. They never see anything, never understand anything, but somehow their comments are always oriented towards a certain agenda. Makes you wonder, really.

The Weeping Statue: she has been a shipper since forever. She has patiently endured rough waters without capsizing and bravely weathered any storm. But right now, you see, ever since Orange Xena/Tennis Babe/German Athlete/Czech Young Woman came along, she just doesn't know anymore. She doesn't know what to think, she doesn't know what to say and she definitely has not the courage to post her rants on her own page. However, she still wants everyone to know she is petrified with grief and discombobulated. For one thing, she probably ceased to be a shipper (if ever) a very long time ago and this is just her indulging in her favorite pastime: being that fly in your ointment. I suggest you ignore: you are nobody's shrink, nor anyone's fool.

The Pennywise Clown: probably the worst type you could ever come across while in here and the unhinged variant of The Simpleton. But perfectly able and willing to send you violent bullshit like this one, with a noted propensity for long, verbose comments:

Received by me in December 2024, never answered. Would make a nice subpoena argument, anytime, anywhere. My crime? Refusing to bitch about the main cast and also being consistent and persistent about what are not just 'beliefs', but what I do consider as facts.

Mrs. It Pennywise went on and on and on with it for months, with very little variation in her nastiness and always at the ready to slap-a-shipper. I don't have the slightest wish to deal with Mrs. It Pennywise in court, because it would probably involve the Interpol, an international rogatory commission and lots of money I could use in more pleasantly creative ways. Only to probably uncover a provincial freak, with no sizable property to seize.

These idiots will always try too hard. Not only to make you seriously second guess your own deductive and even cognitive abilities, but even more so to curb your enthusiasm and anything positive about you being a shipper. For there are, overall, many positives in here, mark me: nice people, intelligent conversations, real empathy and kindness. If you feel you can take it, even when the heat hits too close to home, then you are certainly stronger and wiser than me. If not, my unsolicited advice is to make a very liberal use of the Block Anon button and ultimately get rid of this Tumblr setting altogether. Life will be calmer, for they are just a bunch of cowards hiding under a blade of grass. You don't have to answer every single idiocy that drops in your inbox. Also, you are the only one who has got the power to stop such in(s)anity. Tips and useful deductions almost never come that way, not anymore.

Let this be a cautionary tale. It's not because OL is slowly fading off, that the trolls suddenly deactivated. Far from it.

[that-hippie-user]

you know, it sometimes shocks some of my subs the dedication i put into what i do. like... i legitimately put passion and fervor into unpotty training folks with legit hypnosis. i miss NO opportunity to rope someone in if i can.

but then... why? i mean, this is a fetish right? is it that important?

YES.

folks, you cannot comprehend how much i care about this.

you, all of you, anyone who has considered falling under my spell and losing your ability to hold it, every single mushtush in my lovely "Cult of Stardust" as i call it, be they openly so or stealthwise, ALL of you are making important steps in your lives!

why? because you are giving yourselves permission to explore something no one else has the guts to. you looked at potty training and thought "i never asked for this!" and instead of tucking that desire down deep with shame or holding back for fear of the consequences, you reached out either through anon asks or open ones, for MY input on if you should.

do you comprehend how brave that is? YOU are seeking a life of diaper dependence because the warmth, safety, nostalgia, comfort, and arousal you feel to diapers is just THAT powerful.

and sweethearts, if you're brave enough to consider that, imagine what ELSE you can do?

questioning gender? fuck it, try hormones! more cute clothing options right? wanna learn a hobby? sure! you'll suck at it to start with, but maybe pretending its arts and crafts will motivate you to learn! write a book? why not! you can do so without distractions now. coming out as queer to your friends and family? why not? subtlety is for cowards and YOU arent a coward, the stink and crinkle in your pants proves as much.

seriously, you are considering taking the plunge into a life like NOTHING you've ever done before. and do you think that's wrong? of course not! it's your life! but you might hesitate regardless, right?

hell, you probably harbored shame about this stuff for a while, right? so that probably means you expect me to like, i dunno, warn you? say that its risky? maybe laugh cuz you joined me in my obsession?

I WEAR DIAPEES FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT JUST LIKE YOU DO, WHY WOULD I EVER JUDGE????

in fact, i choose to do PRECISELY THE OPPOSITE.

because if i dont? you might miss out. you might miss out on a fun new adventure in your life, and a new avenue of happiness. you might bury yourself deeper in that closet and spend more days unhappy because YOUR dreams arent fulfilled!

does that really sound so crazy? do you think wanting diaper dependance is silly? no. you are pursuing a happiness that only you and folks like you can understand, opening yourself up to being weird and different because you understand on some level that those are GOOD things to be.

and you're coming to me, someone who has been where you've been, and asking my input.

and i will ALWAYS work as hard as i fucking can to make sure that YOU make the choice that YOU wanna make.

this could be HUGE for your character arc, you think im gonna miss my chance to help you achieve that?

no. i do my part, i preach my gospel of crinkles, and to all the folks who want it i help them partake in the bliss of fully accepting yourself.

this MATTERS to me, this isnt a fetish, this is a way of life for me. and im tired of pretending it isnt.

i LOVE who i am... dont you wanna do the same for yourself?

[maidragoste]

was your meme w the daemon au about the oneshot where she married him to avoid marrying viserys? because i would LOVE to know how people reacted when daemon (i assume it would be daemon) sends a message to viserys - 🩵

Hi Anon 💖, sorry for the delay in responding but I was actually writing something totally different but I saw your question and Viserys' reaction came to mind so I started writing haha

btw, I thought this would be shorter

I hope you enjoy it 🥰🥰💖💖

I recommend people read "The Decision" first to better understand this

At first, when barely an hour had passed since you had disappeared on the back of your dragon, your family had not worried, thinking that perhaps you had lost track of time while flying. It wouldn't be the first time that happens. But then it got dark and you still didn't show up. The worst thing was that Viserys wanted to dine with you in his chambers. Corlys excused your absence by sending your maid to tell the King that you were feeling ill. Rhaenys was furious with her husband for not telling Viserys that you were missing, if the king asked for it then everyone would look for you but Corlys didn't seem to care about your safety, he seemed more worried that Viserys would think that you had escaped to avoid marrying him. Of course, your father couldn't hide your absence for long. Somehow Otto Hightower had found out about your disappearance and reported it to the king.

The next day the entire council was gathered and the king's fury at having been kept secret from the disappearance of his fiancée was evident. Rhaenyra listened worriedly as her father asked Lord Velaryon for explanations. She feared that you had made a drastic decision to run away, her heart ached just thinking that you had left without saying goodbye first.

Corlys didn't even have the chance to excuse himself and make up some story about actually knowing your whereabouts when a maester interrupted the room. The Grand Master was already about to scold him when the youngest reported that a letter had arrived with the seal of House Targaryen. Viserys instantly ordered the parchment to be given to him, knowing that it must be a letter from his brother.

Everyone watched in silence as the king's face became redder and redder as he read the parchment. “Daemon took her as his second wife,” he announced as he twisted the letter into a bun in annoyance.

Rhaenyra felt her heart skip a beat and had to hold onto the table to keep from losing her balance. You were supposed to run away or find a way to break off the engagement, not get married. The worst thing is that you married her uncle. It was unfair that he could have you but she couldn't. If only she had been brave enough to tell you how she felt but she was a coward and she settled for your friendship. She settled for pretending that you were hers every time the two of you walked hand in hand through the hallways or when she exchanged her rings with yours as if it were some declaration of love.

“Poor Lady Y/n, Prince Daemon surely took advantage of her,” said the king's hand with mock regret. Corlys was not blind like Viserys so he could see how Otto Hightower was forcing himself not to smile. He should be the only attempt with this situation, now with you out of the way he could push his daughter Alicent again so that she could get the king's attention and thus make her queen.

“You can annul their marriage,” said the princess, drawing everyone's attention to the obvious desperation and pain in her voice. Years later, different versions of the reason for Rhaenyra's despair circulated in history books. Some would say it was because she was in love with her uncle. Others would say that you were actually the owner of her affections.

“The king can no longer marry Lady Y/n. Not now that Prince Daemon…”Lyonel Strong trailed off, trying to think of a not-so-shocking word to finish with.

“He ruined her,” Otto continued.

“You're talking about my daughter, watch your mouth!” Corlys demanded furiously, hitting his palm against the table. Lyonel had wanted to avoid exactly this.

Rhaenyra also glared at the king's hand. She hated that he had used that word to describe you but I can't help but think that maybe it was better that the lords thought that of you because then they wouldn't want to marry you. Her father would annul your marriage, you would come home to her and she would never have to worry about someone else trying to steal you from her.

“They married under Valyrian customs. It may not be valid in the eyes of faith but in my eyes, it is” declared the king. Besides, he wasn't going to annul your marriage and then marry you. It would be humiliating. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a wife who didn't love him. You had made it more than clear in the letter. He couldn't be mad at you, not when you had apologized for not telling him how you really felt sooner, had told him that you appreciated him but couldn't imagine loving him the way you love his brother, and that you thought he deserved a wife who truly loved him. Still, he was furious with his brother because he had taken advantage of you, it didn't matter that in the letter you said that Daemon didn't force you into anything and that it was your decision to marry, Viserys was sure that Daemon didn't love you, that he had only taken you as a wife to annoy him, as revenge for making Rhaenyra his heir.

“I am very sorry for my daughter's actions, your Grace,” Corlys apologized almost through his teeth. He was furious with Viserys for being so weak. Another man would have instantly annulled the marriage and gone to find his bride but he was not surprised by the king's attitude considering that he had been more interested in planning the wedding than in putting an action plan for the situation that was occurring on the Stepstones

He was so furious with you too. If before Viserys was not interested in the Stepstones, now with you breaking your engagement even less so. He couldn't believe you did this to him. He thought he raised you better. You could have made the Velaryons go down in history by giving the king a son but you ruined everything.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @salmonella22 @Illzarr @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002

[ficretus]

I am getting kind of annoyed both at takes I see at rwde as well as anon who spammed my posts few weeks ago. Basically, they argue that on top of being awful character, Jaune also completely ruins his literary allusion, Joan of Arc.

Of course, you are free to like or dislike Jaune, however, when people claim they hate Jaune because he is a coward, I get really confused. Jaune is not a coward, he is pretty brave, to the point of it being kind of flaw since he has low regard for his own safety. If he was a coward, he wouldn't have went with Ruby, Nora and Ren to Haven, he wouldn't have challenged Cinder to the fight, he wouldn't have tried to infiltrate Salem's base to save Oscar, etc. They are pretty on the nose with it in Volume 8 when Ren states Jaune feels no fear.

However, meat of my gripes is with people not understanding Joan of Arc and how to translate her character to the story.

No, Jaune not being giga chad isekai self insert protagonist level of strong is not an issue or insult to his primary literary allusion, it's the opposite. I don't know do people get their Joan of Arc knowledge from Fate Grand Order, but Joan herself wasn't skilled fighter. She was never properly trained and never directly fought someone. In pretty much every major battle she fought she was wounded or knocked out (hit by an arrow at Orleans, knocked out by a rock at Jargeau, hit by an arrow at Paris, knocked off from her horse at Compiegne). In fact her knowledge of sword fighting was so lacking she accidentally broke her treasured sword when she struck a prostitute with its side. There is no good reason for Jaune to be some kind of prodigy when he is based on a character that never properly fought anyone.

No, Jaune relying on his team to solve problems doesn't make him pussy and isn't unlike Joan. Once again, Joan of Arc wasn't front line fighter, she was moral support to the army. Her greatest triumph, siege of Orleans, was just her directing armies where to go whenever she got a vision. And Jaune's Semblance makes sense for someone based on Joan of Arc. It is essentially morale boost Semblance considering boosting an Aura buffs both your health, defense and offensive abilities. It matches what Joan did for her comrades. Jaune relying on his team to accomplish things is not a bug, it's a feature.

No, Jaune failing doesn't make him an insult to Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc herself wasn't perfect and suffered handful of failures herself. After her victory at Orleans, she won at Jargeau, but then lost the siege at Paris. After that she was stalemated in Perrinet Gressart campaign, won a battle at Lagny and was then captured at Compiegne. After failed siege of Paris, and especially after stalemate against Perrinet Gressart, Court started doubting her abilities. It is simply different order of wins and losses with Joan peaking in her first battle while Jaune was completely useless during the Fall of Beacon but has upward trajectory after that.

Jaune's Joan of Arc is the one without any special abilities but with the same aspirations. He wants to be the hero and save the world, but he wasn't blessed with divine power that gives him unnatural charisma and allows him to see future events. People's gripes and suggestions how to "fix him" usually boil down to turning Jaune into generic power fantasy protagonist. Which is not only boring and misses the point of the character, it also misses the point of Joan of Arc. If Jaune was some kind of prodigy kicking ass since Volume 1, he wouldn't have been Joan, he would have been Roland, Arthur, Lancelot or whatever famous legendary knight you can find.

[vladdyissues]

Lately Ive seen some awful things about antis and haters making threats and getting artists banned from Tumblr and X. Im new to the Phandom and love pompep but Im scared i'll be targeted if I write and share pompep fics. How do you manage sharing your work so bravely?

Firstly, welcome to the Phandom—and especially Pompous Pep! I have a simple protocol for enjoying a drama-free Tumblr experience:

Preventative Action

1. Find your community. Follow other Pompep fans and supporters and reblog their things. Don't be afraid to leave nice tags; we love and welcome interactions :) You can also join the Pompep Discord server if you enjoy chatting (DM me for details).

2. Turn off anon asks. This will solve 99% of all potential problems, and you can turn it back on whenever you want. Antis are cowards who prefer to hide behind the mask of anonymity. They seldom have the courage to say something with their whole username.

3. Block the obvious haters. This is a big fandom, and at some point you're likely to come across people openly hating on pompep, either on their bio, pinned posts, or comments. Block them. For an added layer of protection, add their username to your Filtering Options.

4. Tag your work appropriately. When posting, make sure your work is tagged correctly (the #pompous pep tag is especially important) so people who like pompep can find it and those who want to avoid it can block the tag. Use Content Labels when applicable.

5. Try to avoid using the platonic tag (#badger cereal) and the romantic tag (#pompous pep) at the same time. Some fans are really touchy about this. I'm not, and I think there are legitimate cases where use of both is applicable, but if you want to minimize friction, just stick with one tag or the other.

If you're not sure which tag to use, ask yourself what your intentions are with your art or fic. Is the goal a romantic relationship? If so, use the pompep tag. If it's truly ambiguous and could be seen either way, use the platonic tag first. You can always add another tag like "okay to tag as pompep", just to let people know they can interpret it however they please.

Responsive Action

If the above guidelines aren't 100% effective, here's what you do:

1. Don't feed the trolls. If you receive any negative asks in your inbox, it's important to NOT engage with them. Delete them, ignore them, don't let them get to you. Antis thrive on attention, so let them starve. Eventually they'll move on when they realize they're not going to get a rise out of you.

The same goes for any negative comment left on your work. Just delete it, block the person who left it, and pretend it never happened.

These asks and comments may come in the form of questions. Example: "How can you ship Danny with Vlad? That's [insert gross accusation here]" Resist the urge to answer these questions. They are not made in good faith. This person just wants to start an argument.

2. Report any harassment. If by some chance you receive a seriously hateful ask, like threats of violence or abuse, take a screenshot for proof/safekeeping, then report the message and the user if they're not anonymous. If the ask is anonymous, use the meatball menu (•••) at the top right to report the message and block the anon.

Final Words

It takes time to develop a thick skin and Don't Give A Fuck attitude, but it can be done. You are a phan. You have every right to be here and enjoy this fandom in peace, just like everyone else. Anyone who believes in harassing others over silly things like which cartoon characters should be allowed to kiss clearly has nothing better to do with their life. The sooner you shut them out, the happier you'll be.

Regarding media: Artists attract a lot more negative attention than writers for reasons I won't get into right now, but if you're mainly a writer, you will enjoy a much quieter fandom experience. Wherever you post your stories—I recommend AO3; DM me if you need an invite—follow the same advice there as I've given here: make sure your work is tagged correctly; support your fellow Pompep fans by reading and commenting on their works, building that community; moderate comments if you're concerned about negativity; block and mute users if they give you any trouble, and you'll enjoy a much more positive fandom experience.

There is strength in community. When you start making new fandom friends, you'll feel a lot less lonely, and that will give you the confidence you need to really have a good time here.

Wishing you the best, anon!

[leviismybby]

The first time I saw you, I knew

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

No warnings, it's fluff

Levi kept a stern face as he walked through the corridor of the headquarters, that is until someone bumped into him. "Oi! Watch where you're going." He scolds you as you pick up the tea boxes from the ground. "I am so sorry sir, I am in a little bit of a rush."

He scoffs before kneeling to help you pick up the boxes. "Tea?" Levi asks looking at the box in his hand. "Yes sir, I am delivering it." You say quickly picking up the mess you made. "Thank you." You thank him and smile kindly as he hands you the rest of the tea. He doesn't say anything and just looks at you for a little bit before standing back up.

You know who he is and it makes you incredibly nervous that you just managed to trip over your feet and bump into him of all people. Yet, he didn't seem to mind, his expression remained the same. Standing up on your feet, you put take the boxes back in your hands.

There is a moment of awkward silence, Levi looks at the tea and than back at your face. "What's your name?" Usually there's a different person delivering tea to the headquarters, he didn't know his name as it didn't interest him but you didn't need to know that.

"Name." You tell him your name, offering him a gentle smile. "Hmm." Levi hums, his gray eyes boring into yours. There's a weird feeling in his stomach, he can't explain it. It's like something is tickling him from the inside. Was he....nervous?

"Ugh I really should be going now, sir." You say, trying to escape his intense gaze that makes your knees buckle slightly. He wasn't the tallest but in your opinion, he was handsome, you have never seen eyes like his.

"You don't need me to tell you where to go, I assume?" His brow raises slightly however the tone in his voice is a little softer, just a little. "No, sir I know my way around."

He nods. "Don't call me sir, Levi will do." You nod. "Okay...Levi." The man doesn't say anything in return, there's a weird lamp in his throat, he really, really, likes how you hair looks, how your face is illuminated by sunrays that shine through the window.

Levi was brave in every sense of the word and yet, here before you, he felt like a coward. So instead of speaking his mind, he sternly says. "Tch, just watch where you're going next time. Off you go now."

You quickly apologize again before rushing in the other direction, Levi turns to walk back to his office, trying to convince himself that it was nothing more than a stupid interaction with a random girl.

Before he walks back to his office, he looks back at you as you walk in the other direction. She's just a delivery girl. His mind tells him but his heart has already decided, she is the one.

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Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzitaa @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess

[princessvelaryon]

I decided to finally be brave and check my inbox today. I was excited to finally reply to all the nice message from my friends to thank them but then I saw all of these again. All five messages are from only a few hours ago. I feel like such a coward and a bad person but once again, I’m so overwhelmed and honestly paralyzed with anxiety. All I can do on here is doomscroll for the past few days. I really think these anons have to be right about me, because they keep saying the same things. They are certainly right about me being extremely weak😭😭😭

Why are you doing this to me? I only posted a short Jace one-shot, a super short Jason Todd drabble, drabbled in my inbox and my friends inboxes, and a few WIP lists. I made a few mistakes but I don’t think I did anything wrong😭I just try to have fun and make friends on here and I know I’m not great at it

I’m so sorry to everyone for not getting back to you guys, I love and appreciate everyone who reached out to me❤️

[dead-dolphins]

You've become a very lazy writer. You used to write and post constantly but now we have to beg you for an update. It's really annoying girl. At this point you'll never be a true author if you keep like this.

i wasn’t even going to respond but you sent the same message THREE times in under thirty minutes so i’m guessing you were looking for engagement. well, here it is. everyone forgive me if i’m making a scene but congratulations to this person, you officially got on my last nerve.

in the past eight months, i almost lost my cat, who isn’t just a pet but my emotional support. i watched my grandfather go through a long and painful illness until he passed away. my autoimmune condition flared up badly because i wasn’t taking proper care of myself, and on top of that, i developed nutrient deficiencies from neglecting my diet while trying to keep up with life. i’m now severely anemic, seeing a hematologist, and spending a lot of money on specialized treatment just to stabilize my health.

during all of this, i’ve been receiving hate from anons just for writing the stories i love. also some people on twitter have been behaving in creepy and invasive ways too, practically stalking me and making me feel deeply uncomfortable. i didn’t say anything. i didn’t start drama. i stayed silent and kept to myself because that’s what i’ve always done. just try to survive and hope it goes away. out of sight, out of mind.

and now, after everything, people are calling me annoying because i haven’t updated? because i stepped back to take care of myself? REALLY?

maybe you didn’t know. and if that’s the case, fine, i get it. but just so it’s clear, IM NOT A MACHINE. IM NOT SOME EMOTIONLESS CONTENT GENERATOR. i’m a PERSON trying to hold things together, dealing with way more than i care to explain in detail. i’m a PERSON who has been through a lot in a short period and is tired. and, really, i don’t owe anyone a performance of my pain just to earn basic kindness.

if a fanfic update matters more to you than a real human being’s wellbeing, then maybe take a moment to think about what that says about you bc really. bc this tells me you have zero empathy and genuinely believe i owe you something just because i wrote a story. and the truth is, i don’t. i’m sorry if that disappoints you, but i don’t owe you anything. not even a little.

now this being said: i’m tired. please leave me alone. if you keep coming back on anon, you will be blocked. and by the way, i know you're a coward, like most of the hateful anons that end up in my inbox. but next time, try sending that same ask without hiding behind anon. i’d love to see just one of you be brave enough to stand behind your words, because in the four years i’ve been here, not a single one has.

[lighthouseas]

Hi I saw you have written a MistyNat fic. I'd love to read it but it says I have to be verified user on AO3, is there any way to be able to read it on Tumblr as the preview of it looked great!

Thanks! :)

hello anon, since you asked so nicely i have copy and pasted it here for you (and others) to read :) though for future reference the reason my ao3 is verified users only is because of ai scraping. if you want to read my fics there, creating an account is completely free!

oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth

Misty feels Shauna’s looming presence the most, oddly enough. She isn’t even playing with them—she’s just standing ominously by one of their wood huts, watching as they giggle by a hastily made fire. She’s been like this for weeks���more of a shadow than anything else. Misty had invited her to come play about fifteen minutes ago, but Shauna had just told her to fuck off. Unsurprising, but nevertheless ungrateful. This could mean that Misty will get more attention, though, so it might not be all bad.

Lottie is eyeing everyone in the circle, a cup of mushroom tea in her hands. Travis is side eyeing it, cautious of its influence—though Misty doesn’t really know why. Mushrooms are fun. She thinks fondly back on the time where everyone had accidentally gotten dosed on them. She’d really like to do it again. She doesn’t say that, though, lest she get kicked out of the circle for supposedly being “crazy”.

“Okay, here’s how this works,” Van says, placing a dusty beer bottle with a broken tip that they had managed to save from the burning cabin in the middle of the circle. She smirks evilly, but it’s all playful. Misty can’t help but notice that Van skips making eye contact with her, even if she probably looks the most excited to play out of everyone there. “We spin it twice. The two people it lands on can either choose to go into that hut,” Van points to the wood hut farthest away from them, and, thankfully, the one farthest away from where Shauna stands— “for…roughly seven minutes, or, if they’re cowards and don’t want to run the risk of getting too close with one another—” the group cackles at that. Misty notices Nat shifting on the ground, side eyeing Travis. She’s biting her lip. She doesn’t want to get paired with him, and for a moment, Misty feels a little bit bad. “...they can both take a sip of this wonderful shroom tea and start tripping balls. So, it’s a win win either way.”

The group laughs, loud and all consuming. Misty laughs along with them, notably louder than the others. Nat gives her a look from across the circle. It’s almost like she can tell that Misty isn’t really being genuine; that she’s only doing this to fit in. Which is—okay, it’s partly true, she supposes, but Misty also likes party games. She’s doing this for fun. Maybe she’ll get to kiss Travis. The thought makes her stomach twist, but it would still be fun. Probably.

Van spins the bottle, and Misty watches it go, lightly flicking dirt in all directions as it twirls along the ground. It’s oddly mesmerizing, and Misty can’t look away. She glimpses Nat in the reflection of the glass bottle—she’s staring too, equally intently.

She focuses on Nat’s brown eyes, just for a second.

The bottle stops—it’s pointing at Mari, because of course it is. The whole circle makes an ooooh sound, spare for Misty. It goes without saying that if it lands on Misty the second spin, Mari’s going to make her drink instead of brave the seven minutes with her. Most people will, actually, but Misty tries not to dwell on that thought too much.

The bottle spins again, eventually landing on Taissa.

Mari snickers. “I don’t think she’d want to go in with me, considering…” her eyes dart between Van and Tai. They both laugh, nudging one another affectionately.

“Alright then. Let’s drink, yeah?” Tai replies, unbothered.

The whole circle lets out a chorus of supportive yeahhhs in response. Lottie hands the cup to Mari, who takes a generous sip, and then to Tai, who grins and drinks. Van is giggling beside her, murmuring a soft “thanks” in Tai’s ear. For a moment, Misty feels something warm come over her.

It goes away soon enough as the bottle begins to spin again, marking the second round. It lands on Travis. He flinches, fingernails digging into the ground. Lottie throws a glance his way, gripping the mug of mushroom tea like she owns it. Misty can already feel the mood around the circle beginning to get heady—Tai is giggling at a stray leaf drifting across the forest floor and Mari is lying on her back, staring up at the evening sky. Misty shifts in her seat on the ground, trying not to let it throw her off.

The bottle spins again, landing on her.

It isn’t like before, with Mari. The circle goes silent for a moment, and Travis’s eyes go wide, almost like he’s…scared? Misty can’t imagine why. 

“So, uh, Travis—” Misty starts, smile a little too eager and posture a little too straight, even if she knows where this is going.

“Drink,” he interrupts, motioning for Lottie to hand him the cup. Misty deflates, not because she had wanted to make out with Travis—as a matter of fact, the idea of that sounds absolutely revolting to her—but because of the snickers that she notices immediately start travelling around the circle in response. It’s embarrassing. Nat shifts in her seat awkwardly, briefly making eye contact with Misty before focusing her gaze on the ground.

Maybe she feels bad. 

Travis takes a sip, and then Misty does too, though she’s infinitely more hesitant about it. She doesn’t want to get too high—not tonight, at least. If someone gets themselves hurt, they’ll need her help—someone will do something stupid and then Misty will have to swoop in  like she always does. Good. That’s good. A large part of her wants that, craves the validation. She closes her eyes, trying to unhear the snickers and whispers vibrating throughout the circle. 

She assures herself that it will stop soon.

The bottle spins again, and, finally, the two elect to be alone for seven minutes—Lottie and Akilah. The group waits, giggling and speculating on what they could be doing. When they come back, Akilah looks vaguely like she’s just been exorcised, and Lottie is smiling slightly. She had probably lectured Akilah for all seven minutes on how to become “one with the wilderness”. Whatever. They both look pleased, so no one questions it.

Tai and Van. Lucky. They make out for all seven minutes, undoubtedly. When they get back Misty can see a hickey forming on Van’s neck and can hear the laughter, though it sounds distant, like an echo in a dark cave. Everything looks wobbly—she’s starting to feel the shrooms.

Nat and Travis. Drink. Travis takes a modest sip. Nat does not. The interaction should feel more uncomfortable because of their history, but Misty feels too floaty to care.

Nat looks pretty by the firelight. Misty thinks that the brown hair suits her. She should tell Nat to grow out her roots more.

She won’t, though. She won’t.

Gen and Travis. Finally, Travis decides to go into the hut. Nat is lying flat on her back, chest rising and falling in distinctly rapid succession. She has no reason to be worried, really—Misty doubts that Travis is going to do anything, considering how high he already is. And Gen is nice. She wouldn’t take advantage of him.

They come out after what is probably more like five minutes, not seven. Travis stumbles, looking up at the trees. Gen walks behind him, a mildly frightened expression painting her features.

“You guys hear that?” Travis murmurs. Misty might hear it—the wind? It blows softly through the tree branches, singsongy in her ears. Like a lullaby. “The trees are talking.” Oh. She doesn’t hear it like that.

“He was like this the whole time,” Gen says tiredly. “Lottie, can you—”

“Travis, it’s okay. Come sit.” Lottie pats the empty spot next to her.

“No, the trees, I—”

“ Travis, ” Lottie insists, “Everything is okay. It wants you to hear it. Especially right now.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Travis blinks, almost in slow motion, before going to sit next to Lottie. Normally, Nat would be butting in to defend him, but she isn’t. She’s still lying on her back, and now her hand is up in the air, where she can turn it over and thoroughly investigate each knuckle. Misty watches her, unable to focus on anything else. 

She doesn’t hear the trees. She wonders if Nat can, but just isn’t telling anyone.

“Misty,” Van snaps, and Misty startles out of her trance. “It landed on you and Nat. You in there?”

“What—” Misty stares at the bottle. It’s currently pointing towards Nat, who’s sitting up. When did she sit up? “Oh.”

The group laughs. Someone says “oh my god, she’s so high” in a mocking tone, though Misty isn’t quite sure who. Nat is looking at her, lips pursed and fingers digging into the earth below her. Her fingernails are starting to get dirty from all of the scratching.

“So, what’ll it be, Quigley?” Van asks, though it sounds more like she’s making fun of Misty. 

“I, um—” Misty stammers, the mushrooms starting to impede her brain functions. “Well, I guess, I mean, Nat, you like drugs, yeah? So—”

“The fuck?” Nat shouts, louder than she probably should. Her eyes are completely bugged out, and she’s angry, shit. 

Van looks between the two of them. “So…drink?”

“If that’s what Nat wants,” Misty says, softer this time.

“How do you know what I want?” 

Misty can feel her face heating up, the smell of smoke and sweaty bodies overwhelming her. “I mean, I just assumed—”

“Fuck it,” Nat interrupts, standing up and wobbling on her feet. She uses a nearby tree for balance. “You want the seven minutes, and it’s your call, right? So we’ll do the seven minutes.”

“Oh—oh, okay,” Misty nods, maybe a bit too eagerly, and stands up. The ground shakes under her. She gives the group a two thumbs up, though she isn’t really sure why. “Uh. Bye guys.”

“Uh—okay. Yeah. Great. Have fun,” Van laughs, giving Taissa a look that screams what the fuck.

Nat walks fast. She’s way ahead of Misty, storming by Shauna, who’s sitting under a tree and writing in her diary. Shauna throws a glance at them, but Misty can’t decipher its meaning. She probably shouldn’t try.

Nat isn’t like the others. Misty knows this by now. She hunts the animals, sure, but she also feels bad about things, and usually leaves the butchering to Shauna. She’s a loner and a would-be high school dropout, but she’s not mean. She feels things, and Misty can tell she feels more than the other girls; she just doesn’t like to admit it. Misty recognizes this, but can’t really understand why she is the way she is—it’s sweet, but weird. Really weird, considering their circumstances.

Nat doesn’t snicker at her as much as the others do, though. So that’s nice.

Nat climbs into the hut first, disappearing into its darkness. Everything is still looking wobbly, and suddenly the hut looks much bigger than Misty could have ever imagined—towering over the trees, ominous-like, ready to consume her at any moment. When do the seven minutes start, again? Misty’s heart speeds up just a tad, her palms beginning to sweat.

“You coming or what?” Nat calls, then giggles. “Woah. My voice sounds different in here. Misty, the hut makes your voice sound funny. Come in, come in.” She wouldn’t be saying this normally. She’s high as fuck.

Misty chuckles, trying to quiet it with a hand over her mouth. She climbs in, and Nat is sitting there, eyes wide and inviting. Her pupils are super dilated, though Misty can’t imagine that hers are any better.

“Seven minutes, starting now!” Misty jokes as she sits down. Nat does not laugh. Misty swallows. “What do you want to do?” It’s all she can think to say, her mouth having gone bone dry.

It’s the drugs, she assures herself.

Nat shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Well, we could just talk.”

Nat huffs indignantly. “...About?”

“Um…” Misty shifts in place, considering the question. “Boys?” That’s what people usually talk about during these things. It seems appropriate to suggest.

Nat picks at a stick on the wall of the hut, trying desperately to get it free. “Fuck no.”

“Oh, well, I just thought—”

“Misty, I said no.”

“Okay. Sitting in silence, then.”

“No, I mean—” she finally gets the stick loose, grinning at her small victory. “We can talk, just not about that.”

“I mean, the other option is making out.” Misty’s mouth moves faster than her brain, which is moving shockingly slow. Shit. 

“Ew, Misty, no!” Nat makes a face, but it’s impeded by the drugs pulsing through her system. It’s more of a slow blink in surprise. “No.”

“You say no a lot, Nat,” Misty chastises.

“Yeah, well, I think I have good reason to.”

“No, no, you’re the leader. I get it. You have to turn stuff down.”

“You really don’t get it,” Nat snaps, and Misty wilts. “You don’t get it.”

“Why?”

“Because you just—” Nat waves a hand at her, trying to indicate something that Misty really, really can’t decipher. “You’re you.”

“...Yeah.”

“You’re Misty-Fucking-Quigley. You don’t give a shit about the people here. You don’t—you don’t care.”

Misty wants to shout at her, but can’t. Her voice won’t go to that volume, not now. “That isn’t true. I help you guys. I nurse you back to health. I give—I give the most shits out of anyone.” She’s really struggling to form coherent sentences—she hopes Nat doesn’t dislike her for it. She should know by now that Misty isn’t always like this.

“Yeah, you do all that, but you’re also fucking crazy.”

“I’m not—” Well. She is. But that’s besides the point.

“I’m not saying you’re all bad. But you could never understand. Because you could never be a good leader.”

“I beg your pardon!” Nat is wrong. She’s so fucking wrong that it makes Misty’s blood boil.

At this, Nat snorts, then breaks into a chuckle, flopping against the wall of the shelter. She’s laughing at Misty, like, really fucking laughing at her, but it doesn’t seem like she’s trying to making fun of Misty. She just looks high, her cheeks flushed red and hair mussed from getting caught on the hut’s walls. She tucks a tress behind her ear, shaking her head.

“You’re weird as hell.” She accompanies the sentiment with an exaggerated wave of her hand, as if controlling her limbs has become physically impossible.

Misty doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t deny it. She’s too focused on the way Nat’s hands play with the twig she had pulled from the wall earlier, fingers bending and knuckles flexing. Dirty fingernails scraping incessantly, the soft sound accompanying their conversation.

“...Sometimes I like that about you,” Nat finishes, quiet.

Misty’s head snaps up, face flushed a deep red. Nat is giving her an incredibly obvious once-over. Without thinking, Misty moves closer, the rush of wind in the trees making her feel lightheaded. Every sound is amplified, including that of Nat’s breathing. She can feel her drugged up blood pulsing through her veins, delivering a blush to her cheeks and sweat to her palms and a hot, floaty feeling all over. She’s always admired Nat, and now, in the slight light of the moon creeping through the hut’s doorway, she looks like some sort of goddess.

In a way, she is. She’s their leader. Misty had gotten them stuck here, and now Nat is going to guide them through the Wilderness, not yet bending it to her will, but bowing to it, accepting its influence. And Misty knows, without a doubt, that she will be trailing behind her every step of the way. Nat will never know that Misty is the reason she’s found her purpose. That, in a roundabout sort of way, Misty is the reason Nat is sitting before her, high out of her mind, and looking goddess-like.

It’s okay. She doesn’t need to know. She just needs to know how much Misty wants this, even if it’s mostly the mushrooms that are giving her the capacity to admit it to herself.

“You like that about me,” Misty repeats, and she’s so close, she’s so fucking close, and Nat isn’t moving away. 

“I think,” Nat whispers, breath hot, “You’re crazy.” She swallows, throat raspy and dry. “But so are we. You just flaunt it.”

She’s not wrong. It stings a little, though.

Misty has to ask—“Why did you agree to seven minutes in heaven? Why didn’t you choose to drink?” 

“Honestly?” Nat giggles. “I need to lay off the drugs.”

“That’s all?”

Nat’s eyes dart downwards for a brief moment, and Misty’s heart skips. She can’t imagine what this would be like without the hallucinogens currently pulsing throughout both of their bodies. She moves closer, unthinking.

“Natalie—”

And then it happens, and Nat is surging forward, grabbing Misty’s blushing cheeks as she kisses her. Misty’s glasses are knocked askew, and she doesn’t even have time to enjoy it before Nat is pulling away. She looks alarmed.

“Shit, I don’t know—” Nat runs a shaking hand through her hair. “I don’t know why I did that, ‘m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Misty murmurs, a bit too aggressively. She’s the one to lean forward this time, capturing Nat’s lips in a kiss, and Nat huffs into her mouth as if she’s always wanted this too. Misty knows that she hasn’t—knows that deep down—but wouldn’t mind pretending for a while.

Nat pulls away for air. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

Misty swallows, embarrassed. “No.”

“I can tell.”

Misty thinks it might stop there, that they’ll just go back to the group and try to forget about this tomorrow, but Nat pulls her back in, insistent. Misty doesn’t really know when it happened, but Nat’s tongue has made its way into her mouth, and her hand is in Misty’s mussed-up, endlessly knotted curly hair. Everything is hot and stuffy and maybe this is just some fucking hallucination. Who the fuck knows.

It’s seven minutes in heaven. This is what people do, right? Misty’s just doing what everyone does. And she likes that—but she likes kissing Nat more.

How long has it been? Three minutes? Fifteen? Where are they? Who are they? 

Misty pulls away this time, acutely aware of the fact that she can barely breathe. Nat follows her, leaning forward to beg for more. “Sorry,” Misty pants. “Air.” She points to her mouth, as if it’s any helpful indicator.

“Yeah,” Nat replies.

“You know, you’re—” Misty pauses, trying to remember the word. The moon seems to shine brighter against Nat’s features. “You’re really pretty. I’m sure you’ve heard that before, but I just wanted you to know that I think you are.”

“Misty fucking Quigley,” Nat murmurs. “Misty fucking Quigley.” She keeps repeating it, like a whispered mantra. She pauses, looking Misty up and down. “I know what people say about you. But for the record, I think you’re pretty too.”

“Yeah? ‘S not just the mushrooms talking?”

“Oh, it’s definitely the mushrooms talking,” Nat says, breaking out into a fit of giggles again. She leans forward, placing a hand on Misty’s shoulder to steady herself; Misty tries her best to pretend that that the touch alone doesn’t make her want to pounce on Natalie.

“It’s okay…me too.”

“You too?” And then Misty laughs with her, and they’re all close again, breath hot in each others’ mouths. Misty hasn’t felt this way in so long. Not since Crystal. 

They both lean forward this time, and the kiss is sweeter. Like people in a real relationship might kiss, like how Misty sees Van and Taissa kiss all of the time. And Nat—she draws it out, grinning madly against Misty’s lips. It has definitely been over seven minutes. People are bound to be wondering where they are.

Misty revels in the moment as it is, though. Nat does the same. She can tell that Nat doesn’t care about the time. Maybe, if they’re careful, they can just stay here forever. Nothing is impossible. Not right now. Not out here.

Footsteps sound outside.

“Natalie!” Fuck. “Misty! It’s been forever since you went in there, what the hell are you two doing?” It’s Shauna. Of all people. She isn’t even playing.

They jump apart right as Shauna peeks into the hut. She’s definitely seen them, if only for a split second, based on the expression that flashes across her face. She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Nat pales, looking like she’s just seen a ghost. 

“Oh—uh. Okay. Well. I’m gonna…go,” Shauna murmurs, walking away and muttering something indecipherable to herself.

“She won’t tell anyone,” Misty whispers, nodding seriously. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”

Nat’s eyes blow wide. “Please don’t poison her.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Misty wouldn’t dare. Shauna would probably kill her before she’d even managed to get the poison in her drink, anyway.

“Hey, guys?” Tai pokes her head into the hut, looking between them questioningly. “Time’s been up for a while.”

“Sorry. We got sidetracked,” Nat says effortlessly. The color has returned to her face, thank goodness. “Misty was telling me a story.”

“I was?” Misty has no recollections of doing this, but she’s high. Of course her memory is going to be unreliable.

Nat shoots her a look. “Yes, you were. Remember, the one about Coach Ben?”

“Oh,” Misty nods. “Yeah,” She’s not too bad at lying. “Yeah, I was.”

Tai looks between the two of them. She likes girls, she probably senses something—but, thankfully, she doesn’t say it, just shrugs and tells them to hurry up so that they can continue the game. Misty climbs out first, slow and wobbly. The wind in the trees is screaming louder, now, whispering indiscernible things to her. Nat follows her out, stumbling and giggling. Misty wonders if she will remember this tomorrow, if she’ll just ignore Misty and try to pretend it never happened.

They were high. That was all. That should be all—end of story.

Nat’s hair, now mussed from Misty’s prior grip on it, flutters slightly in the whispered wind. The dyed parts are barely noticeable under the cover of darkness. Misty’s mouth moves before she can stop it.

“I like your brown hair.”

“Huh?” Nat isn’t really all there; she smiles lopsidedly as Misty turns to face her.

“I said, I like your brown hair. It suits you.”

“Oh,” Nat runs a hand through her hair, smiling. “Thanks.”

“Sorry, I just thought I’d say that. It’s cute.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Good to know that it doesn’t look shitty.”

They’re nearing the group now, almost within earshot. Van is about to spin the bottle again; they’ll probably only do a few more rounds before finally deciding to call it a night.

“I don’t think you could ever look shitty,” Misty says hurriedly. “I meant what I said. About you being pretty.”

“Ah,” Nat giggles again. “So it wasn’t the shrooms.”

“No, they just gave me confidence to say it.” Misty wishes that her mouth would stop speaking for her, sometimes.

“Okay,” Nat nods, “well, I guess I could say the same for you, too.”

“I—” 

“Don’t think too hard about it, okay?” Nat says, patting her shoulder. “Please,” she adds.

Misty is definitely thinking too hard about it, though. Her mind lingers on it—Nat’s breath against her skin, her lips, her laugh, her staring at Misty in that particular way—

“Okay. Yeah. I won’t. This is just, like, fun sleepover things! Right?” 

And Nat—she laughs at that, but she’s got this smile that says she thinks what Misty said is endearing, not weird. Misty grins, too wide and showing too many teeth, and Nat smiles that perfect smile that she’s had since before the crash.

“Right.”

That isn’t all it is. Misty knows this, and her gut is insisting that she keep Nat close, assuring her that maybe, just maybe, it will work out this time. Nat isn’t like the others, she repeats to herself—and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

She knows it to be true.

[givemeanaccountalready]

Time for another Milgram shitpost! It’s my apology for never finishing my Milgram analyses in my drafts and that one anon ask. Woo!

I have had this idea for a while now, of just the Milgram prisoners trying to pass the time, and while the words have changed many times over, the general idea of some of them having something like a DnD campaign because there’s no TV, internet, or even a radio to pass the time, so why not?

Yuno: “Seriously? I thought you, of all people, would be into this sort of thing.”

Fuuta: “You want us to play pretend.”

Yuno: “How is this any different from your little computer games?”

Fuuta: “This is very different from MMORPGs, and you know it. This… is lame!”

Muu: muttering “You would know.”

Yuno: “Oh, please. Your eyes lit up when I mentioned it.”

Fuuta: “They did not!”

Yuno: “Did so.”

Fuuta: “Did not!”

Mikoto: “They kind of did, dude.”

Fuuta: “No one asked you! And they did not!”

Mikoto: “I mean, I’ll play, if you want Yun-chan. It’s a good idea. I really don’t want to do another ice breaker.”

Shidou: “They’re good for getting to know others.”

Yuno: “Thank you. Who else wants to play?”

Kazui: “Oh ho, ho, I don’t know. It’s been ages since I’ve played a game like this. I wouldn’t know how to play.”

Yuno: “Alright, we got Kazui. Who else? Amane?”

Amane: “I am studying.”

Fuuta: “See? Even the grade schooler doesn’t want to play. I mean, you guys don’t even have any dice or anything to play.”

Yuno: “We don’t need dice to play. It’s just to pass the time. Who else? Kotoko?”

Kotoko: “No.”

Fuuta: “You need dice to play! How else are you gonna decide stats? Just by classes? That’s lame.”

Mikoto: big bro mode activated “You’re lame.”

Yuno: “Oh my God. Fuuta, I’m gonna make you be the first villain boss guy we face.”

Fuuta: “It’s just boss, and why do I have to be the villain?”

Yuno: “Why do you need to fight me on everything I say? Shidou’s gonna send you to your room if you don’t play nice.”

Fuuta: “Oh my God, fine. I’ll play your dumb game.”

Mikoto: “Wait, shouldn’t Es be the one sending us to our rooms?”

Haruka: nods

Yuno: “Haruka, do you wanna play? There’s no rules to this?”

Fuuta: “You can’t have a game without rules!”

Yuno: “Shut it, or you’re going to be the team goblin. Haruka?”

Haruka: “C-can I?”

Mahiru: “Can I play too? What are we playing?”

Kotoko: “Fake DnD.”

Yuno: “Oh? Did you change your mind then?”

Kotoko: “No.”

More nonsense:

They finally got Amane to play because Shidou wouldn’t stop bugging her about it.

Yuno: “You can be a priest if you want.”

Fuuta: “They’re called clerics and they heal-”

Amane: “I want to be a crusader.”

Fuuta: “A what?”

Yuno: “Bet. Want any special powers?”

Amane: “I want lightning to smite my enemies with.”

Shidou: whispers to Fuuta and Mikoto who canonically have sisters and probably know firsthand how unhinged play time drama can be “Is that normal?”

Mikoto: “Yes.”

Fuuta: “You’ve clearly never played crime Barbie. Coward.”

Mikoto: “Oh, word? My little sister used to love overthrowing evil queens with her My Little Pony dolls. That and evil orphanages.”

Fuuta: “Evil orphanages… Good shit.”

When faced with The Villain ™️

Mahiru: “Is he… is he hot?”

Yuno: “You can’t fix him.”

Mahiru: “I can try!”

Yuno: “You can’t. That’s how Kotoko died.”

Kotoko: “I wouldn’t try to fix him!”

Yuno: “You were trying to fix him like a dog.”

Kotoko: “Okay, now that… that I can accept.”

Kazui: sweating “I think we played enough for tonight.”

Later on, after Kotoko attacked.

Fuuta: “Hey… Yuno?”

Yuno: “Yeah?”

Fuuta: “I can’t stop thinking about-about it. Can you-can you talk about the game?”

Yuno: “The game?”

Fuuta: “Please. Everythung hurts and I need something else to focus on.”

Yuno: “…”

Fuuta: “Yuno?”

Yuno: “… okay, so Mahiru accidentally set off one of the traps in the villain’s old hideout. You and me, the brave knight and the baddest witch in the west, we were sent ahead to find the old Warlock, Shidou of the path, to figure out how to get Mahiru out of the ancient scroll she’s now trapped in…”

[redheadspark]

Hi hi! I love your writing!! For the December prompts can I do Druig with 8 & 13 ?

A/N - I love this for Druig! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Brave

Summary - Druig thinks of himself as a coward. His wife thinks otherwise

Warnings - angst with fluff at the end

Amazon

1600’s

The otherwise of the bed was cold, which made you worry as you woke up from your slumber.

Usually, you would have a warm body next to you, more than warm since he would run hot when he would sleep out there in your little shack.  It didn’t help when it was humid, even in the winter season the air would be sticky in the dead of night.  But his side of the bed was in fact cold, you could only feel the bunched sheets.

He was also a clinger when he slept, always wanting you within arms ready with either tangled legs or his arms around your waist.  You never minded it, not really since you two were an item for the last 600 years or so, long before you both came to the Amazon 50 years ago.  Leaving your Eternal family and only having each other to lean on for support.  Although you missed them all and their company after being together for centuries on Earth, you would never trade your choice in walking away with Druig.  

You two were building a life together.

You blinked slowly to rub your eyes, seeing the otherwise of your bed empty and abandoned.  It wasn’t like Druig to leave your bed in the middle of the night unless he would wake to tell you.  But your heard the front door crack, making you look and see that it was opened slightly and the moonlight was shining in.  The cooler breeze was filling in the room, along with the softer sounds of the nocturnal animals echoing from the high trees.  You slipped out of bed, threw on your robe that was a gift to you from one of the elders in the tiny village, and tip-toed along the wooden floor.

Poking your head out of the cracked open door, you saw the very person you were looking over, leaning against the pillar of the shack and looking up at the moon with a haunted look on his face.  You quickly grabbed his blue robe that was hanging up on a singular nail on the wall, sliding out onto the porch where he was to silently sit next to him. 

“Put this on before you catch a cold,” You hummed to him, placing the robe along his shoulders to watch him carefully slip his arms through.  You grinned slightly, though you leaned your shoulder against his.  Passing a kiss on his shoulder, you spoke again, “What’s on your mind, honey,”

He said nothing for a moment or two, you knowing well to not press him when he was in deep thought.  Druig was never one to hide things from you that haunted his mind, he was very open with you and never wished to withdraw anything from you.  But you could see it in his eyes and how he seemed….lost.

“Did I make the right choice?” 

You looked at him with a hot of worry as he asked that, his voice sounding a bit raw and uneasy as his eyes were still trained on the moon.  You rubbed his arm with your fingers, feeling him lean back against you a bit more. This was the last thing you thought he would ask, since up until this point he was more than fine with being out in the village.  

“What do you mean?” You asked him gently.

“Coming out here, leaving the family,” he replied, you hearing him call the others “family” for the first time.  You knew he admired them and never wished any ill wishes towards them.  He would be aloof with them of course, but nothing negative.  He missed them every once in a while when you two went off on your own, joking around with Kingo or talking about her inventions with Phastos.  Even with Ajak, the leader who would always have to answer to Arishem, Druig missed her pearls of wisdom and warmth.  

“You did what you had to do,” you reminded him with a calm tone, “That was the worst night of your life, Druig.  You had to watch what happened to those humans and you made a new path because of it—“

“Because I couldn’t simply stop them,” Druig muttered.

“Druig..” You said his name as he huffed and blinked a few times, you finally noticed that he was silent crying.

“I had a nightmare,” He explained, his voice now sounding a bit raw, “That night out there and seeing those humans kill each other.  I could hear them crying out for help…..but I just stood there and did nothing…..like a coward.”

“Hey!” You huffed, reaching over to frame his face in your hands to get his attention.  His blue eyes were brightened in tears, and his cheeks and skin were flushed, this was now the same Druig knew that was filled with life and hope.  You saw him thrive there in that village building new homes for the growing families and new crops on the small farm.  He loved what he was doing, he looked so happy and filled with joy in helping the small cluster of humans thrive and survive.

To hear himself call himself a coward though…

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” You scolded him, seeing him blink at you as you stared at him hard, “You are not a coward, not even close! Don’t ever call yourself that ever again, you hear me?”

He said nothing, but you knew he was drinking it all in as he laced your spare hand in his own and you gave him a small smile.

“Druig, you are one of the bravest beings I know. You’re brave for knowing what is right and saying it, not holding it in.  If anything, that is uncowardly.  I have always loved how brave you were and wishing to do the right thing and never holding back with your words, it was one of the reasons I fell in love with you,”  

Druig smiled, small but softly as you traced some of the tears away with your fingers.

“You should have told me you were feeling this way,” You advised him, but he shrugged and bit his lower lip.

“I thought I could handle it on my own,” he tried to explain, but you huffed.

“Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?  You stubborn ass,” you said, Druig snorted and finally chuckled for the first time that night as you giggled.  You were glad to break off that mood he was in, Druig wrapping you in his arms to hug you as you let him.  Druig would never be one to ask for him in any way, which bothered you since you knew it would be too much for him at the time.  Something like this though, worried you that he was having these nightmares over time and keeping it to himself just to protect you.  Then again, you knew deep down old ghosts and demons would haunt anyone.  

Even the mind controller himself.

“All is well, Druig,” You said against his head as you kissed his ear, “Don’t think you can do this alone, not with me.  Lean on me when it gets heavy, please,”

“Anything for you, my love,” he replied as he pecked your lips.  

“Good, now come to bed with me.  I miss you in my arms,” you replied, getting up and taking Druig by the hand.  He laughed, following you willingly as you two finally left the porch to go back into the little home that you made together.  Nightmares will come and go, but they won’t last forever.

Not like the love you had for Druig. 

The End

[deepdeanvsweston]

brainrotted about the five in jfp 😔

do you have other hcs or thoughts about any of them? (legit anything idm lmaoo)

I'm actually legally not allowed to think about the Five because otherwise I start screaming and tearing doors off their hinges etc etc. /j

This didn't turn out as hcs as such but odd ramblings sorry anon 😅

Ok first of all not a hc but Poison Tree by Grouper is soooooo the Five and Elizabeth it's unbelievable please listen to it and think of Them

- Una goes on to work at Deepdean!!! This is one of my strongest beliefs of what happens to the Five, though I can never decide if she would become school nurse or headteacher

- something something JFP will never happen again under her watch...

- I personally really love Mrs Dichmann being a beloved and respected headteacher, but me and someone were talking about her being a school nurse and flirting with gym teacher Florence which was also a Good Option <3

- she and Kitty (who canonically works at Deepdean) are like. frenemies. Even without the events of JFP I think they'd clash, but also Kitty feels slightly indebted to her about looking after Binny during JFP so it's sort of... odd between them

- though if one of the male teachers dad something sexist they definitely go and have a bitch about him. Slash his tyres maybe

- Lettice goes on to do charity work! I'm not sure what in canon era, but definitely in a modern au working with a charity that tries to help young people with eating disorders

- and I mean canonically as a debutante she'd been seen favourably if she did a bit of charity work anyway

- Lettice is friends with Bertie!!! And there's a genuinely plausible way for them to meet too!!!

- ok so not to infodump about the history of the debutante BUT there's an event held at Eton every year called the 4th June (ironically not always held on the 4th June) where they do loads of boating and essentially posh versions of praise assemblies. This would be an Event that would be in your diary as a debutante, and old Etonians would be there too

- I like to think they meet at that! Lettice as a debutante, Bertie somehow roped in as a Old Etonian idk

- the important thing about their friendship to me is they don't know anything about each other. They don't realise the connection to Deepdean and Daisy (possibly mildly unrealistic seeing with Daisy's whole spiel about how all upperclass families know of each other but idc)

- idk I see similarities in them that make me scream

- (I would gladly do a Lettice and Bertie post with the slightest provocation)

- Lettice is the only one who visits Enid in prison. She's glad Enid did what she did and tells her not to regret it. Enid tells her she doesn't care about being in prison, that she'd do it a 1000 times again if it means Elizabeth would be dead every time

- (JFP timeloop au anyone???)

- Lettice always cared more about Enid than Enid did about her. Everyone but Lettice caught onto this

- honestly one of several fucked up situationships in MMU

- I hc Enid as the one to tell Elizabeth that Lettice was in a psychiatric hospital in a desperate attempt to protect herself by appeasing to Elizabeth's love of control

- actually Florence who pushes Enid to murder Elizabeth

- she makes a cruel, but offhand, comment about how Enid is a thinker, she isn't brave enough to actually do anything daring "better a fool than a coward" idk

- those are the words ringing through her head as she swings the stick

- quoted from my Enid post: it being Bonfire Night and Enid being a dramatic bitch who's read about Guy Fawkes, envisions herself as a successful him, taking down a tyrannical ruling power, and she doesn't hesitate as her fingers curl round the handle.

- I reckon Florence and Enid are two sides of the same coin. I can easily see Florence coming to the same conclusion about what to do with Elizabeth

- none of them are friends they're all just bound together by the fucking Situation

- idk how to explain it but they all wish the rest of the Five were dead but in a really sexually-charged way

- I think Elizabeth was clever in who she picked to be 'her Five'. Any of the Big Girls had secrets who she could manipulate and threaten into being cruel, but idk if they have quite the depraved level of loyalty as specifically Florence, Una, Margaret, Lettice and Enid did

- something about the Five not knowing who they are outside of a mask, or putting on that mask to hide something about themselves. None of them are true, or have a sense of belonging. I think Elizabeth gave them that. Please tell me this makes sense

Just realised I didn't write anything about Margaret and Florence??? I'd say I think you can guess who my favourites are but with the Five you don't really have favourites you have those you like to inspect under a microscope more than others

(Also to the person who asked about Beanie Martineau hcs they're on the way <3)

[sgiandubh]

What makes you not take this conclusion into consideration?

.👇🏻.

S&C had an occasional sexual relationship

Dear Occasional Anon,

I can only think of three possibilities for you crossing the lines, as the ones of your ilk regularly do, with your ready made bullshit:

a) you are 'new'. Been there, done that, got the Tshirt. The last of the fake newbie clowns hang around for a short while, then switched sides when I kicked her out of my page for shamelessly sitting on the fence. I detest Fencers, because I detest SPINELESS, both in here and in real life - so if many of them are blocked, here is why. Now I am told she is bitching around across the street, kissing various arses. Good riddance.

b) you are bored (aren't we all?) and you are looking for cheap entertainment & immediate reporting to the Screeching Banshees (ex-Disgruntled Tumblrettes: the diminutive is way too kind). In that case, kindly and swiftly fuck off. Tell them what a virulent bitch I am - that should come as no news to them. This is my page and you are definitely not welcome. Plus: don't you all think S is gay or sexually promiscuous? Tsss. Be consistent and admit what your people recently wrote: that it's a wonder she does not wear a hazmat suit during filming. In that case, how could Your Goddess Who Can Do No Wrong casually sleep with The Tramp? You guys lack not only a backbone: you lack elementary logic.

c) traces of neuronal activity might have been detected in your case, after all. In that unlikely situation, be bold, brave and honest. Take the next step and replace occasional sexual relationship with deep, but tempestuous love.

For the bajillionth time: what makes you think I would share ANYTHING with a coward like you?