#but I had a feeling I'd regret it if I didn't go even by myself so I did

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: A little gift fic for @musubi-sama Happy birthday!

You've enlisted the services of Geto Suguru to assist you with ridding yourself of strange dreams. In the world of curses, however, nothing is as it seems ...

CW: Mild sensuality.

There is something of the wolf in him.

Maybe it's the smile he wears like a summer garment, carelessly offered, carelessly discarded, a suggestion of bared teeth beneath. Maybe it's the languid grace, the ill-concealed strength beneath the rich material of the yukata.

It is, possibly, in the way his dark, dark eyes trace something unseen as their gaze glides along your seated form within the spacious, traditional room.

A predator's glance, yes, but one seeking tougher prey than you.

You start to wonder where you'd found the courage to mount those stairs, to follow the airy wave of the attendant, to take such a risk based on hearsay alone. It had been office gossip that had drawn you to this place, after all. It shamed you to say it, or even think it, but it was the truth. You'd been desperate, and you'd heard whispers of a solution, of his reputation in certain circles.

And here you were. It was too late for regrets.

As if reading your tumultuous thoughts, his eyes flick towards yours, the smile growing wider for a second. When he speaks, the afternoon breeze outside seems to still a little, to snake into the corners of the room, ready to do his bidding. Soft, cajoling, his voice commandeers your attention like a single, crisp footfall in a dark forest.

"You're here for my help, I presume."

Your tongue darts out, moistening your lips.

"Yes. I - You see, it's the woman who lives next door to me."

He nods, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go on."

"She's elderly. Alone. I've never seen ... well, any family visiting her, but I've not been in the neighbourhood for long."

You pause, collecting your thoughts. How could this be phrased in a manner that didn't make you sound like the unhinged party?

"Recently, she's been asking to come over. I humoured her, a few times. Had her over for tea. I even gifted her a plant I'd bought. But then ... as soon she was inside the house, she changed."

"Changed?"

You shift slightly, the floor beneath the tatami mat suddenly harder against your knees.

"She becomes quiet. Weird. Like she's waiting for something. She's ... quite chatty outside, but when she's inside, she just ... becomes different. Anyway, that was just the first thing I noticed. I started to find ... these. Scattered over my doorstep."

You produce the dark, polished stone from your pocket, handling it gingerly. He makes no move, and so you approach, placing it a few feet away from him and settling back into a sitting position.

"And ... I know this sounds ... "

He waves a hand, nonchalant, as if nothing you say could possibly surprise him.

"After the stones started to appear, I started to have dreams. Really vivid dreams. In them, I am riding a train, like the one I take to work. It's a stormy day outside. So I look out the window, and I see clouds. Thick, dark clouds. And they start to form a shape."

For the first time, you see a glimmer of interest in those onyx eyes. The palm cushioning his chin drops away.

"Hmm. In your dream, is the train traveling away from, or towards the clouds?"

"Towards. In fact they ... form the shape of her face. With her mouth wide open. And she ... she swallows the train. It travels right into her mouth, with me in it."

"And what then?"

"I wake up. Nothing else really happens, except for ... "

He waits, fingers tracing idly along his earlobe. You clear your throat.

"Well, I wake up feeling like a ... child. A child who wakes up in the dark. Like I want my mother to come into my room and hold me. Many times, I cry. And it doesn't ... go away, the feeling. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm having dinner with colleagues, I just ... feel the urge to be embraced. By my mother. A parent. Someone. It's so strong that I ... locked myself in a toilet once and wrapped my arms around myself."

Your laugh is higher pitched than you'd prefer, brittle. You blink rapidly, fighting the cloudiness that settles across your eyes.

"My mother's long gone, and I've been living alone for many years now. I've never felt this way before. I can't explain it. I have a feeling. A feeling that it all has something to do with her. That she ... did something to me when she came to my house. The way she watched me. Like she was waiting for something."

He hums thoughtfully, straightening out of his semi-reclining position.

"In cases such as these, I think it works best to visit the site itself."

"The ... site?"

"Your home, of course."

"Oh. My - Oh. I really don't want to make you go out of your way. I live all the way over in - "

He rises, the fall of his dark hair echoing the slide of long sleeves as he gracefully re-arranges himself.

"And you've come all the way here, to me, for assistance. Please don't forget that you've paid us to render you a service. I hate to sound so ... transactional, but you've sought out our help. And you traveled by train no less."

His sly, sideways glance drags a reluctant smile out of you. He bows politely, the corner of his own mouth quirking.

"At your service."

He informs you of the time of his arrival, of course. His communication by text message is light, professional.

You arrange to leave work early that day, hurrying back to your home, eyes flickering across the fence to the door of the neighboring house. That's where she is. There is no sign of her at this time, but your imagination conjures up the twitch of a curtain, the soft shuffle of slippered feet within.

Your key slips slightly as you unlock the front door and you enter, closing it behind you with force. Taking a deep breath, you will your muscles out of their tense state.

He will be here soon. He will end this.

You busy yourself with tidying up, hands drifting aimlessly over dust-free counter-tops, shifting a few items around. Sitting is out of the question.

About forty minutes after you arrive, the doorbell chimes softly. Geto is standing a small distance away from the door when you answer it. He doesn't greet you immediately. His eyes are roving across the front of your house, sliding sideways, and you shiver as you see the look that crosses his face as his gaze lands on her house.

Not unpleasant. Almost eager. Hungry.

He turns to you with a smile, eyes curving slightly upward, and you're struck by how handsome he looks. In civilian clothes, a knitted sweater and jeans, black leather loafers and a silver wristwatch, he looks effortlessly beautiful, the swathe of dark hair gleaming in the mid-morning light.

Everything about him seems casual, luxurious. Besides the eyes, of course. They consume the warmth of the yard and reflect something you can't (and maybe don't want to) put a name to.

"Good morning, Geto. Please, come in."

You bow politely and he waves off the formality of your greeting. Somewhere, to the left, you hear a door creak slightly open. Geto steps forward and surprises you by slipping his warm fingers underneath yours, hooking and pulling you forward. You stumble out into the yard beside him and his smile grows wider. He spreads his arms out.

"Why go in when we can experience this glorious sunshine? Let's stay here for a bit."

The door of the neighbouring house is now open. You can hear the protesting squeal of old hinges, but you ignore it and play along with Geto's charade. It must have some meaning.

Shrugging, you finger the slightly frayed hem of your own cardigan.

"I haven't really stopped to soak up the sun for a while now."

He flicks your forehead in a manner that almost reddens your cheeks and by his knowing grin, he is aware of exactly what kind of effect his actions have.

"I've told you so many times. You're looking too gloomy. Flowers like you need sunlight and care."

It takes all of your composure to keep the soft smile on your face as you hear the slide of slippers across the paved garden path on the other side of the fence. Geto glances up and feigns surprise. Reluctantly, you turn to regard the face that has haunted your dreams for almost a month now.

She is openly staring, gaze fluttering between you and Geto with something that looks like alarm. You clear your throat.

"Miss Okoyama. You're out early."

She nods, but she is still scrutinizing Geto. Her voice is reedy, as always.

"Oh, I just ... saw you out. Thought I'd come over and say hello. Haven't seen you in a while."

Her tone sounds slightly accusatory and you feel a tinge of anger. Gesturing to the man beside you, your introduction is almost brusque.

"This is Geto. He's ... a work colleague."

"Ah."

Geto bows politely, playfully. He steps closer to you, and her eyes follow where he places his palm lightly on the small of your back. You feel the warmth of him through your clothes. Feeling more than a little flustered with how this entire situation seems to be unraveling, you grasp his sleeve and tug slightly.

"Let's not keep Miss Okoyama out too long. She needs rest."

Geto greets her politely and follows you back in. You can feel the interrogator's beam of regard on your back, the icy hot trail of watchfulness passing between you and Geto once again.

Once in the safety of your living room, you drop heavily onto the sofa, hands coming up to massage your temples.

"Well. At least you got to meet her."

He laughs and settles down opposite you.

"I'm beginning to see the problem here."

"You are?"

"All too clearly. You mentioned before that this ... strange behavior started last month?"

"Around then, yes."

"And you said that she changed when she stepped into your house?"

You nod, wringing your hands slightly.

"I don't know. Yes. Maybe. I just ... had a weird feeling come from her."

He rises and motions for you to stay seated as he begins a cursory inspection of your home. As he peers into various corners, a stream of questions keeps your attention focused on answering accurately, as opposed to wondering what he is searching for.

"What did you speak about? When she was here?"

"Different things. Our lives, I guess. My job. My family. Her family."

"You mentioned your mother to her?"

You hesitate slightly, watching him as he traces light fingers over the kitchen counter, moving towards your bookshelves.

"Oh, yes. She asked me."

You're not quite sure why you sound so defensive, but he appears not to take notice. He is now examining the books on your shelves.

"Interesting collection you have here. Have you ever leant out any books to her?"

"What? No, never. I mean, after I started having the dreams, I never invited her back here."

The wandering fingers have now flitted from the bookshelf to the stand beside it, holding a small basket for your keys and a potted plant. Feeling a sudden surge of impatience, you stand and make your way to the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee, maybe?"

"Oh, don't mind me."

He is now softly brushing the leaves of the pot plant, and you're reminded of how those hands felt a short while ago, fingers coiled around yours. Large, substantial, warm, their strength beyond your ability to guage.

You busy yourself preparing coffee, the rich, decadent scent as enticing as his presence here, in your space. You hear a faint clink and rustle, but when you turn, he is making his way towards the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively.

"Actually, I'd love some coffee."

Your fingers drum across the counter-top.

"Did you ... find anything?"

He doesn't reply immediately, picking up the package of ground coffee and examining the label.

"Does she often ambush you in the yard like that?"

"Once or twice. I ... usually manage to avoid her."

He sets the package down, deceptively delicate. You raise your eyes to his. This close, you can smell the ocean bite of his cologne, cleaner and lighter than you expected. The faint shadow of long lashes falls against his cheek, magnified by the overhead light. His breath fans warm across your cheek, shockingly intimate in the small space. His voice, when he speaks, is soft, so soft.

"Do you know about curses?"

"Curses?"

He wags a teasing finger.

"Dont look at me like that. Curses are very real. They inhabit our world, and us."

You're aware of the line of confusion forming between your brows.

"I don't think I follow. Are you saying that she's cursed me?"

"Not quite. You see, a curse is something that can only be knowingly placed by an expert. And yet, so many of us go about our lives, unaware of the curses that others place upon us. The curses we place upon them. The curses we harbour within ourselves."

You're not sure about the source of your uneasiness, but it is growing. You place the blame on his proximity, the way you can hear his lips part when he speaks.

"You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I - "

"I can feel it. It's here, in the air. Your longing for her."

"After those dreams -"

"No. Before them."

His contradiction is matter-of-fact, a contrast to the feathery contact of his fingers with a stray lock of your hair.

"You must have missed her terribly, to be holding something like this inside yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

You don't mean to whisper. You never meant for that hoarseness to find its way into your voice. The fine balance of terror and desire, now on a honed blade's edge, glides across your skin alongside his fingers.

"I'm talking about your curse. The one you placed on Miss Okoyama."

"That's nonsense and you know it. I've never - "

The black pebbles clatter across your kitchen counter, falling from his fist like a miniature, contained hailstorm. Your muscles lock in place as you watch the sleek, dark grey stones scatter, as if following some unknown law of impact.

"Where did you get those?"

"From your pot plant. These stones are just beneath the surface of the soil. Was it a plant like this one that you gifted her? Did those pebbles on your doorstep really come from her?"

The marble of the counter digs into your back as you lean away from him.

"You need to leave. Now."

His laugh is easy, full of merriment, as if the conversation you've been having isn't fraught with confrontation, tension and (on your part), anger and fear.

"Now, now, there's no need for that."

He straightens, and suddenly, you're aware of how much taller he is, how that gnawing edge of perpertual starvation in his glance has focused its full force on you.

You are prey.

You can't let him go further, and so, you attempt to defend yourself.

"What are you doing? Are you blaming me for all of this?"

"I am. But not in the way you're thinking. You missed your mother. You invited this woman into your home, a presence who may have subconsciously reminded you of her. You gifted her this pot plant, and you began to see a change in her."

He reaches across, ignoring the way you flinch, and gently places his forefinger on the region of your heart.

"You carry a desolation in here. You don't even know it's there, most days, because does one question the desert one inhabits? The drought that came without another's love has been here for a long time. Your dreams of Miss Okoyama reflect your desire to be consumed, rather than escape her. It doesn't change the fact that you are fearful of this need."

He taps the stones.

"You fill the pockets of your heart with stone weights, and you drop them into a lake deep inside yourself. You unknowingly ensnared Miss Okoyama with these same little tokens. But curses never stay silent, do they, my dear?"

Your breathing has migrated to the realm of rapid, shallow pants, dampness breaking out across your brow. You are afraid, so deathly afraid. You want someone to hold you. You want arms wrapping around your body, around and around, a meteor belt lashed to the gravity of your never-ending need.

You want -

His hand is cupping your jaw, so warm, so warm, tilting your head up, your panicked gaze meeting his bottomless hunger. You have so much to give away, this curse as he names it, and if he can help you, then -

"Please."

You hear the desperation in your own voice, and hate every drawn out syllabyl of it.

"Please take it from me. Remove my curse."

"With pleasure."

His head dips with slow, dancer's grace, his mouth covering yours like a drift of autumnnal leaves over the cold earth. It is only chaste for a moment; he is now languidly prying you open with his tongue, lapping at you. The heat of his lips, the soft hum of approval that rumbles through his chest, the final firm slide of his arms around your waist seals in the perfection you have been craving.

This, this, is what you needed. It's all that you -

He licks a stripe across your lips playfully, and then, impossibly, deepens the kiss, your head tilting back under the force. You let out a small sound of pleasure, but your eyes snap open again when you feel something else.

He is hungry. That much is evident in the way he shifts his head from one angle to the next, dampness crawling over your lips and smearing hot along the sides of them. Something is different, though.

There is a strange coil in your stomach, one you'd initially mistaken for arousal. It feels almost as if ...

Gasping, you place your hands on his chest, as if to shove him away, but he is too strong. Keeping his mouth fixed over yours, he drinks of you deeply. And he draws something out.

Eyes widening, you go limp in his grasp as his teeth latch onto your bottom lip, nipping harshly. Those large hands map out the curves of you, tracing the valley between waist and hip, sinking into your flesh, tugging it relentlessly out of you.

For one, long, agonizing moment, you feel a tearing separation within you, one that makes you cry out, breaking the kiss, you head whipping back and forth. He speaks soft words of encouragement, unrelenting in his hold on you, pressing you back against the counter as equal parts arousal and fear war within your ravaged mind.

You eyes open, briefly, but you see it. It hovers in the air, a grotesque apparition of rolling eyes, spidery fingers and an oversized head, claws reaching for you, before it is drawn into a crushing black hole of darkness.

Geto's mouth opens, wide, so wide, and you watch, paralysed, as that black sphere disappears within him, gliding along the velveteen length of his tongue, drawn behind the pearly cage of his teeth, down, down, an eclipse of the throat, until nothing is left.

A terrible rush of fatigue assails you, turning your limbs to lead weights. And yet, there is such relief. It feels as if you've emptied your pockets of every stone you've collected, every little increment of isolation you've endured for such a long time.

Before your vision swims beyond the recoverable, darkness creeping in at the edges of it, you see the satisfied look on Geto's face.

He has swallowed your curse, and the heaviness it brings to your heart.

You regain consciousness hours later, tucked safely into your bed. There is no note, no communication on your phone, and yet, you lie for a moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling more complete than you have in years.

The gnawing hunger was something you'd never known was there, until it was gone. No wonder Geto had seemed so familiar to you in his presence. The thing inside you was just as much of a predator as he was, just so much weaker.

You do wish that you'd regained consciousness before he'd left, though. You'd have liked to thank him for what he's done for you. Glancing across at your phone, you know, with some kind of visceral certainty, that he will never contact you again.

Your fingers rise, trace softly over your lips, and your eyes close once again.

Maybe it's just as well that you were passed out. You hadn't seen Geto leave, hadn't seen him pause on the stairs and glance sideways before nodding slightly, finding no trace of your curse left hovering at the door of that hapless woman's abode.

Miss Okoyama would return to her regular self soon enough.

Geto paused on the street, sliding a small spray bottle of disinfectant from a pocket, as if by instinct. He raised it, the nozzle facing him, before considering it thoughtfully.

He smiled and tucked it away.

[laurelindebear]

Finally saw the Mummy 25th anniverary release in the cinema yesterday and AAAAAAAAHHHHH IT'S SO GOOD ON THE BIG SCREEN. I know it's not all accurate (either to the various parts of ancient Egypt or 1920s Egypt/North Africa) but it's just gorgeous, from the opening shot of 'Thebes' to the golden desert panoramas to giant 15-foot-tall Ardeth on a huge screen aaaaaaaaaaah I'm dead.

I had cuddly baby Horus and his handmade tagelmust with me the whole time, I wore my Key of Hamunaptra earrings, I wore my Medjai necklace, I wore my Ardeth t-shirt. I've never been to the movies alone but I loved every second.

I can't remember if I've even been to the cinema since Covid and I think I missed it more than I realised. I'm not a huge film buff, and we've got a big tv (my partner is an avid tv viewer). But when it comes to some shots, the panoramas, the detail in the close-ups, the shots that are there for unabashed visual aesthetic - like maybe my favorite shot of all time, Wall-E reaching out to touch the swirl of ice/rocks as he clings to the Axiom - the cinema screen gives an immersiveness the tv can't match.

I'd seen it last week again as well, with a friend who'd never seen it, and between the two I noticed some things I hadn't before, or had forgotten. So this is gonna be long and rambly and full of questions and observations.

The brownface and imperialism is bad. Some of it I guess is period-accurate, and partly to indicate that certain characters aren't great people/are earning their grisly deaths (Chamberlain and the Americans). But a lot of it is inexcusable. Omid Djalili's performance is pretty over-the-top (and he is afaik Iranian and not Arab), a lot of 'Egyptian' characters clearly aren't (even beyond the main cast, all of Imhotep's priests look like White guys in gold paint to me. Some of the Medjai eg the one with the hook are also in brownface.)

A lot of local diggers and Medjai are killed in the Medjai raids and the plagues and it's not really acknowledged much. You'd think Ardeth would still have some hard feelings about Rick/Evy/Jon having killed people he's known all his life but maybe you have to develop a different view of violence and death when your whole life is centred on stopping the end of the world.

When the heroes are fleeing from the museum, they crash the car and run a short distance away. Rick, Ardeth and Jonathan escape via a manhole to get to Winston at the airfield. When they arrive at the airfield, they seem to be in the same car. How?

Why does Evy seem to be waking up on the slab? When we last saw her she was wide awake and chastising Beni. Feels like something was cut here.

The Medjai with the hook also has the following tattoos on his cheek: Gardiner's sign U6 or U7 (mr) and 2x H6 or (I think) M17 (y or j). What is ymr or mry? 'Beloved'? Is Anck's name in there too? What do they all mean? I must know! Would it be weird if I tried to write to the designers and artists from the film about it?

Some of the Medjai (or other workers) performing the Hom Dai have no tattoos on their arms. Most of the Medjai have tattoos which include one of the eye symbols (Eye or Horus or Eye of Ra) on their shoulders. Sidenote, I think Ardeth should have worn the old-timey Medjai outfit just once, for science. (Good thing we have the amazing @minilev to imagine it for us.)

The Hamunaptra cat is really totally out of the bag by the end of it. Not only is there treasure and archaeological finds (sadly not the Book of Amun-Ra, dammit Jonathan 😜) but Cairo had about 5 simultaneous (super)natural disasters. Ain't no covering that up. They're gonna need to recruit a lot more Medjai. (I volunteer! It will not go well for me though. I would be the worst Medjai of all time.)

Did Patricia Velasquez play the mummified version of Anck as well?

Who was Imhotep going to sacrifice the first time? One of his priests?

Was already thinking about this before I rewatched it but...the law is distinctly that no other man may touch Anck-su-namun. Has anyone written an AU where Anck and Nefertiri fall in love and escape Seti together? 👀 (I know he treats Nefertiri ok but Anck is clearly not a happy and willing participant in their relationship.) I would read that. (No, me, you already have half a dozen stories you'll never finish. Don't even think about it.)

Where are the camels at the end from? Didn't they all get ridden back after the first time they left Hamunaptra? And I thought there were more horses than camels, anyway.

Ardeth really was supposed to die, it was so clear. He was fist-fighting mummies and then had dynamite thrown at him. I'm not even slightly sad he survived (it's my favorite plot hole of all time!) but...how. Thank you Stephen Sommers for your vision. 🙌

Jonathan's face-journey for his 'Iiiiimhooooteeeeep' line is even more amazing on the big screen. I remember why my sister and I loved it so much. John Hannah and Jonathan are very underrated IMO.

Kevin J O'Connor also underrated. Beni is a weasel through and through...but Kevin plays him so, so well.

What does Beni say in ?Hungarian when Rick confronts him in the egyptologist's office? And how does he understand Imhotep - magic? I can buy he'd learn protective prayers in 10 different languages, but translating Middle Egyptian is another thing entirely.

Evy and Rick doing the 'I love you' 'I know' thing with just their eyes when Evy goes with Imhotep to try to save them. SO GOOD.

Has Brendan Fraser ever been hotter than when Rick first catches sight of Evy after her Bedouin makeover? (Which, coincidentally, has been living rent-free in my head ever since...it's almost an anti-niqab since the sheerness and beading on the veil arguably draw more attention to her and her eyes but...damn girl. 😍

Evy's delight at getting to Hamunaptra on her camel and finally getting to do field work is delightful, it's infectious, it's a pure joy to watch. As a female lead who could so easily have been an ineffectual trophy, she holds her own and carries the film as an equal protagonist to Rick in her own right. And I love her for it.

Evy and Jon are one of the better portrayals of siblings I can think of offhand. They have just the right mix of ride-or-die familial bond and squabbling.

Ardeth Bay's cheekbones cut more deadly than his sword tbqfh. (oops. but it's true.)

I should stop talking because this is so long. But if anyone wants to talk about anything Mummy-related, my inbox is very open!

[freakyformula]

First time with the Wolf

Summary: Reader and Toto has been dating for a year and they finally have sex for the first time.

Writers comment: This is for all the sluts with daddy issues (myself included).

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut obviously, fluff, daddy kink??, innocence kink, google translated german.

Word count: 3,3k

Toto Wolff.

Billionaire.

CEO of the Mercedes F1 Team.

….Who also happens to be your boyfriend.

You had been seeing each other for about a year now, you caught his eye at an afterparty, and you instantly hit it off.

As you were stuck studying, you couldn't be with him at his place of work that often, but every time you got the chance, you did. Everyone at the Mercedes garage adored you, although you heard some whispering about you and Toto's age gap and your intentions with him at first.

Your life felt complete. It felt like you had everything a person could ask for. Toto was treating you like a princess, sending you gifts and even giving you his black card, encouraging you to use it. Every time you met up with him, he'd be soft with you. Not forcing you to do anything you didn't want to. Holding you close whenever you needed it. Sending you sweet texts during the day.

"Y/N, do you know the answer to this question?" The professor asks.

Shit, daydreaming again.

"Uuuuh, yes, erm…" You tried to save the awkward situation but it was in vain.

Later, you were sat on the sofa in your extravagant apartment that Toto had insisted you needed. For what, was beyond you.

"Toto, I made a complete fool of myself today and it's your fault!" You tell him over the phone.

You had a routine of calling every day to check in with each other.

"What do you mean it's my fault? I'm innocent." He argues back and sticks his tongue out playfully.

"I was thinking about you and ended up daydreaming, and then my professor asked me a question!" You explain.

"Thinking of me?" He says as he drags the last part out and points at himself. "Liebe, do you miss me as much as I miss you? I'm having a hard time staying away from you. I think about you beside me every night, about how good you feel beside me. You belong beside me." He explains.

You gasp at his words. Toto was rarely this straightforward. You couldn't help feeling a tingle in your stomach, feeling aftershocks in the rest of your body.

"Beside you…? Sir Toto, what are you implying?" You ask.

You had intentionally waited to have sex, with Toto wanting your first time to be special. You weren't a virgin or anything, but you hadn't had the courage to take on a man of Toto's size yet and he knew about it, hence why he wanted to wait. He was proud of his size and carried himself well.

"I'd like to know if you want to visit Jeddah and spend the race weekend with me and the crew? Lewis has asked when he will be seeing you again, he seems to have a weak spot for you." Toto asks.

His question didn't really come as a shock, he'd often ask multiple times if you wanted to join him on his travels.

"Toto, I, I'm afraid…" You say as you know taking a few days off wouldn't hurt. You felt overworked and could need some time off the hectic pace at school. You could ask your friends to share notes later and work on your assignments on the plane. Besides, you were in the middle of the semester, meaning no upcoming exams.

He gives you a small pout when he hears the impending rejection but lights up as you continue.

"… You'll regret ever inviting me to Jeddah, I will be pestering you and the team all weekend."

He looks up at the screen of his phone and looks confused. Then, as the words sink in, his lips turn into a wide smile. "Are you serious, Schatz?" He asks alarmingly calmly.

"One hundred percent, Toto." You confirm.

"Jesus Christ, I love you so much!" He celebrates. "I'll book the plane tickets right away, can you make it to the airport by tomorrow evening?"

"I'd love that, do I need to bring anything?"

"Only that beautiful smile of yours!" He exclaims.

And with that, you finished the call and said your goodbyes to a very excited Toto.

The next day you spent packing and arranging for your friends at school to take notes for you, thanking them for the trouble.

You made it to the airport with time to spare. You spent the spare time on your laptop, working on that one assignment that made you question your choice of studies. Finally, your boarding was called.

The flight went smoothly, and when you arrived to Jeddah, a man was waiting for you as Toto had instructed, driving you back to the hotel you and Toto were staying at.

The doormen helped you with the bags and you were escorted up to your room.

When you opened the door to the grand suite, you saw Toto standing in the middle of the room, with a bouquet of roses in his arms. He gave you a wide smile when you came into view.

You instantly ran up to him and he lifted you into his big and strong arms, peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle.

The suite was equipped with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and a huge main living room.

Toto showed you around, holding you close.

"So… I'm assuming you'll be spending your time sleeping next to me, in my bed, right?" Toto asked carefully.

You chuckle and turn around, facing him. "It's not like I haven't done that before."

Both you and Toto were tired and soon got ready for bed. As you get in under the covers, you make yourself comfortable and wait for Toto to join you, which he does, with a certain urgency.

He hovers halfway over you, and places a soft kiss on your forehead. You lean into the kiss and look up at him, he looks like a true god like this.

"God, there's so much I want to do with you… To experience with you, Y/N."

"Show me, then." You urge him.

"Someday, I will."

And with that, both of you fall asleep.

You wake up before Toto and pry yourself free from his tight grip, making him frown and search for your lost body in his sleep.

You take a quick shower and get yourself ready for the day, rocking a floral sundress you knew Toto would love.

As you step out of the bathroom, Toto is sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning up his white shirt. When he sees you, he gets up and walks up to you.

"Let me help you with that." You say and start working the buttons.

Toto smiles at you and grabs your hips. "Good morning, Y/N. You look so beautiful, I'm so happy you came here."

You finish up breakfast and get to the track, meeting up with Lewis again. Today, the garage was buzzing with people of all sorts. Mechanics, celebrities and fans were squashed together. And then there was you and Toto, and while he held you close, protecting you from accidental blows and rude comments, you still felt uncomfortable.

Luckily, Toto had arranged for you to stay close to him and follow the race from a peaceful spot.

You celebrated with the whole garage as George finished 3rd and Lewis finished 5th, both scoring valuable points.

Toto runs up to you, and easily lifts you up into his arms. Then, out of nowhere, he catches your lips in a deep kiss. This was the first time he showed affection in public and it took you by surprise. Feeling lost and flushed, he sets you down again.

"Congrats Toto, I know this means a lot to you." You say.

Mercedes had two rough past seasons behind them, so even if it was just a 3rd and 5th place, the whole garage celebrated as if it was a victory.

"Would you like to go out for dinner later?" He asks, "I'll have you driven back to the hotel, and I will be back after the briefings."

As you get back to the suite, you take a quick shower to freshen up. The cool water is a welcome feeling on your overheating body. You fix yourself up, apply some light makeup, and do your hair. You choose a flowy black dress, which accentuates your figure perfectly.

"Y/N?" Toto calls out.

"In here!" You yell.

He finds you and stops in his tracks, taking the sight of you in.

"Y/N… You're exquisite." He says as he gives you a quick kiss. He takes your hand and leads you out to the balcony of the suite. You stand at the railing and enjoy the view as Toto places himself behind you, he presses himself against you and traps you in place with both his hands on each side of you.

"For you, my love." He says as he hands you the box.

"Toto." You warn him, not wanting him to spoil you too often.

"Just open it, Y/N. You deserve it." He urges.

And when you inevitably open the box, you're met with the most beautiful diamond earrings you've ever seen.

You take a moment to just take in what you're holding.

"You, Y/N, are going to wear these tonight." He explains, helping you put them on, them fitting you perfectly. You look and feel expensive.

You wait for Toto to finish his shower while you admire the gemstones hanging from your ears.

Because you're in Jeddah, you decide on Middle Eastern food for the night.

Toto knows the city very well and takes you to one of the best-rated restaurants.

You spend the evening in a booth of said restaurant, babbling away.

As soon as you step into the hotel room, Toto's hands and lips are on you. He keeps a slow pace, making sure to not hurry.

You follow his lead, kissing him back and caressing his arms, slowly moving to his chest.

You part the kiss and look at his deep brown eyes, panting. "I want you, Toto."

Your words switch something on in Toto's brain. You'd never been that straightforward with him before, asking for him.

He picks you up, with you kissing and biting his neck as he walks you to the bedroom, making him groan in pain and pleasure.

Toto is a gentleman and lets you down from his arms with much care.

"Can I take this off?" Toto asks as he creeps over the zipper to your dress with his fingers.

Your mind is already failing you, and you nod, thinking it would suffice. Much to Toto's dismay, that is, as he tuts at you. "Words, schatzi."

You're struggling to form a complete sentence, so you settle for a simple "Please."

"Good girl. Doing so well for me already."

This wasn't new for your relationship, you'd done things to each other before but you hadn't gone all the way.

Toto helps you out of the dress and falls to his knees at the sight. Like a starved man, he creeps closer and places kisses on your bare chest, creeping lower and lower down. When he reaches your panties, he looks up with a questioning look, and you nod enthusiastically.

With the confirmation, he leans down to your heat again, grabs the panties with his teeth, and proceeds to pull them down. Looking at him doing this to you of all people, and him enjoying it, was ecstasy. When your pussy comes into view, he lets the panties fall to the floor, giving your mound a feather-light kiss.

You can feel his breath on your lower stomach, and you grab his hair and pull him closer to you. Toto takes it as an invitation to keep going with what he's doing. This time though, he comes closer to your aching core, parting your folds and placing a kiss between them. You're shaking at this point and Toto takes notice. Standing was starting to become hard.

"Y/N, sit down on the edge of the bed."

You do as you're told and sit on the edge of the bed with your hands in your lap.

You follow Toto's movements as he takes his shirt and pants off, leaving only his underwear on.

When he creeps closer to you, your hands reach out for him.

You frown when he stops just of your reach.

"What do you want, Y/N? Come get it." He says.

You sigh, and get up on your knees. You bend forward and pull on his hands, guiding him to you. This must have been thought out ahead of time because your face ends up where Toto's bulging length is. Your mouth waters at the sight and you look up at him, asking for permission.

"Go ahead, Y/N."

You place your hands on his chest and slide them lower down, passing by his nipples, abs, and crotch.

As your hand touches his cock through the fabric, it twitches, and Toto lets out a small grunt.

You tease and pass by the lining of his underwear, grabbing it and pulling down on them slowly, just to let go. You start palming his cock and Toto barely keeps control over himself. You can see that vein in his temple, and it's about to pop.

As you slowly pull his underwear again, intending to tease him further, you drag them a little too low and his manhood slides out.

You look at it with big eyes, thinking how it's ever going to fit in you.

You softly grab it and steer it towards your mouth. You lick the head of his cock slowly and look up at him. He looks at you with such admiration in his eyes that you can feel yourself creaming between your legs.

Toto grabs your hair and pulls it into a makeshift ponytail.

"Open up." He demands.

You open up for his length and you're able to take a fourth of him until you start to gag. Toto doesn't press you further but keeps the pace for you. You grab the rest of him with your hands and start pumping him at the same time.

Toto must have been so close because he pulls you off and gently takes your hands into his. Bending down, he kisses you deeply, helping you lie down on the bed. He follows and lies down beside you, with half of his body on top.

"Can I mount you?" He asks.

Now this, this was new. He'd never been on top of you before.

"Y-yes." You whisper, barely audible.

"Don't be scared, Y/N. You're doing so well, do you want me?"

You scoff at his question, "Of course, Toto. It's just, I'm scared it'll hurt."

"I know you're scared, that's why I'm asking if you're sure you want to do this with me. There's nothing I want more right now, but if you're not comfortable, I'm ready to wait. With that said, I can't promise it won't hurt, but I will be as careful as I possibly can.

You process his words carefully.

"O-okay." You stutter, "I'm ready."

Toto smiles at you and hovers over you. He leans in and licks your lips and you grant him access to your mouth. He kisses you deeply and wrestles with your tongue for dominance.

His hands slide down your sides and stop at your hips, lifting them up giving him easier access to your warm and pulsating heat. His mouth leaves marks everywhere it comes into contact with, making you moan.

Now it's his turn to tease you. He goes down, sucking on your tits and nipples, leaving kisses on your stomach, leaving lovebites on your thighs and kissing the insides of your thighs, moving from one leg to another without touching you where you needed him most.

"Please, Toto, need you!" You beg.

"Patience, love." He tells you off.

He keeps admiring and praising your body for what feels like forever. Finally, you feel a kiss on your mound, followed by a lick along your drenched slit.

The feeling makes you buck your hips, making him grab your hips with his arms and hold you down.

He starts eating you out at such an unforgiving pace that you cum almost instantly. He lets you calm down before he adds a finger and it slides inside you easily. He starts pumping it slowly, pressing it up against your G-spot.

"Oh god, Toto!" You exclaim.

He adds another finger and he watches as your eyes roll back.

Another finger, the stretch feels uncomfortable at first but you get used to it fast. Especially since he keeps his mouth on your clit. Deeming you ready for him, he hovers over you.

"Ready to do this with me, liebe?"

You start nodding but remember his demand.

"Yes, please Toto, take it slow?" You ask.

"I'll be as careful as I can, Y/N. I promise."

And with that said, he lines himself up with you and starts pressing on your entrance. You feel yourself opening up slightly and tense up, pushing his tip out again.

"Relax for me, Y/N. Deep breaths."

He instructs you on your breathing while he presses his tip in. You yelp at the feeling but quickly calm down as Toto starts caressing your cheek and encouraging you.

"You're taking my cock so well schatzi."

"Breath for me."

"Look at you, so beautiful beneath me."

"Those earrings look so good on you, I knew it was a good investment."

He'd shower you with compliments and affection which made the pain a little more manageable.

You gasp in pain as you feel your entrance giving way to his huge member.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, liebling."

As he pushes himself in a little bit further, you writhe in pain.

But then, when he starts pulling back and slowly pushing in, further each time, it feels good.

You moan in unison when he bottoms out within you. The pain subsides and all you feel now is pure pleasure.

Toto pumps into you at a relentless pace, making you see stars and yelling out your second orgasm.

"Ride me?" He asks and you follow his lead as he bends backwards, ending up on his back. Without parting, you start riding him, slowly at first, but increasing the pace as you get more comfortable.

Toto is massaging and kissing your tits as you look each other deep in the eyes. This position is giving him easy access to your clit, tits, and your ass.

"I'm cumming, Y/N…" He says as he grabs your hips and starts pistoning his hips into you.

You watch his contorted face as he cums deep inside you, painting your walls white with his seed.

He kisses your face languidly as both of you catch your breath, and you process what just happened.

"I'm so sorry I had you wait for almost a year before we did this." You admit.

"I guess we have a lot of catching up to do then." Toto smirks at you.

"Now, wait here." He instructs as he hurries off to the bathroom.

When you hear rippling you decide to disobey his orders and follow him to the bathroom.

As you turn the corner, you see Toto running a bath.

"Thought you might want to clean yourself up. Here, I'll help you." He says as he helps you into the warm water. He stays with you, assisting with the loofah and leaving kisses on your body.

After a while Toto sinks down behind you, enjoying the warm water as much as you. You spend your evening there, just soaking and talking. When you get up, Toto helps drying you off and wraps you up in a bathrobe.

"Thank you for tonight, Toto."

"Thank you, Y/N. We need to do this again, soon."

This was the definition of love. No way you could go back to your ordinary life after this.

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[whispersoftheton]

hiiii!! can i ask for a fic where reader (aka viscountess) is helping benedict with a lady he's falling in love with, but they're basically scheming and secretive and Anthony gets suspicious and a little jealous/upset? thanks!!!!!

Hello nonny! I've been going back and forth on posting this mostly because I don't feel like it's very good but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous!Anthony

Word Count: 1.1K

The day had dawned, and it seemed you had blinked the night away after a previously tedious day. Your duties as Viscountess had significantly grown since Lady Bridgerton had started to hand over most of the reigns of the house. With some spare time on your hands, you spent most of your day in the main hall amongst everyone as you poured yourself some tea before returning to your reading. With a hint of mystery in his eyes, Benedict strolled into the room and stood beside you, making himself busy with the book you had just put down on the tray.

"Viscountess now, is it?" He teased in a hushed tone to not alert the siblings of his untimely arrival. Benedict always had a way of easily slipping in and out of sight, with his mama distracted with his other sibling's endeavors.

"It would appear so." You offered him a warm smile while pouring some tea for yourself. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Benedict?" Although most may not understand your relationship with your new brother-in-law, this is how it has always been since your courtship with Anthony. How you managed to keep up flawlessly in between constant banter with his siblings was just one of the things Anthony loved most about you. And Benedict was no exception.

"It seems I find myself in need of your assistance." The unusual hesitance in his voice piqued your interest. Benedict was never one to shy away from a challenge, let alone hold his tongue. "There is a lady who I would like to…pursue."

"As in courting? The Benedict Bridgerton interested in seriously courting someone? Why I'd never thought I'd see the day." Your words dripped with sarcasm, but as you turned toward Benedict, it was clear this was no joke, making you reconsider your teasing, at least for now. "I apologize; I did not realize this was a serious matter." His eyes still trained on the tea before you. "If it is my assistance you require with the matter, I will help you."

"Really?" He leaned back, head up with a cocked brow.

"You are my brother now. And if this lady is as suitable of a match as you are implying, I will do everything in my power to assure your courtship to her."

"You care about me?" His teasing returned, making you resist the urge to roll your eyes toward him, but a smile crept up nonetheless.

"Of course, I care. We are family. Now, let's get to it before I regret this entire thing."

Anthony paced around his office, unable to focus on a single task all day. His desk was littered with papers needing attention, but all he could focus on was how odd you'd been acting as of late. Your presence was scarce around the house, although your duties were always tended to. Anthony missed having you as close by as he was accustomed to since your marriage. Of course, he caught glimpses of you throughout the day, but you always seemed to be scurrying off somewhere. He couldn't help but notice Benedict lingering nearby at every event he'd been to in the last couple of weeks, engaging you in conversation whenever he stepped away, even for a moment. Anthony knew he had no reason to be envious; you were his wife, and you loved each other dearly. But that didn't stop him from suppressing a surge of jealousy at the thought of you and Benedict spending so much time together. Impossible thoughts swirled through his mind, straying him further and further away from any rational thinking until his feet carried him faster than he could stop himself as he called the carriage.

The day was as warm as it was humid; the lush field was decorated with tents showcasing various vendors as the ton gathered. You had spent the better part of your time in the last couple of weeks preparing Benedict as much as possible, covering everything from appropriate topics of conversation to enticing the young woman to yearn for more interactions with him. It had been a challenging task. For every ounce of natural charm Benedict possessed, his soon-to-be lady seemed to be immune to it at every turn. Every challenge she presented seemed to draw Benedict closer. It was daunting, to say the least, but today would be the day. The garden party was the event of the social season, and you knew for a fact that she would make an appearance today. Benedict came up beside you, eyes set on her almost immediately. You glanced toward him, watching intently as his face softened, a smile deepening with every second he laid his eyes on her. Your heart warmed; whatever Benedict felt for this lady, you understood it was exactly what he had been searching for.

"Are you ready?" He snapped out of it and nodded toward you. "Go on then." Benedict readied himself, taking comfort in the fact that you would be nearby. But as soon as he stepped forward, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and move him back toward you.

"My dear brother," Anthony kept his tone hushed so as not to alarm any of the ton members standing nearby. "I will make haste so we may continue with the day's festivities. Care to clarify as to why you are spending so much of your time with my wife?" You and Benedict shared a look, holding back a laugh.

"I'd prefer not to; I'm rather entertained at the moment." Benedict crossed his arms before him, aiming his shit-eating grin at Anthony.

"Truly, Anthony, you could not make any more of a fool of yourself than you already are." You huffed as you turned toward your husband. "May I speak to you in private?" Anthony hesitated before he took your hand and walked you to an isolated part of the lake away from the chaos.

"If you must know, I was asked to help your brother pursue someone. I have been guiding him on proper conversation topics and ways to impress the young lady he has shown interest in. That is all. And if you are indeed insinuating there would be absolutely anything inappropriate happening between your brother and I then you truly do not know me at all."

"That is not what I thought-I-You were only spending so much time with Benedict, and I allowed my temper to best me; I only missed your company." His apologetic look had you softening under his gaze. "I apologize."

"Next time, simply ask before you allow your mind to run rampant with impossible thoughts, hm?" He nodded before taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Anthony lead you back toward the gathering to find Benedict wholly entranced in a rather enticing conversation with his lady.

"It seems like you did well, my love," Anthony whispered toward you, tapping your hand, which was now holding onto his arm. "Looks like my brother might find his match after all."

Mini Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @thethreeeyed-raven @ssprayberrythings @fatbottomedvirgo @fictional-hooman @sky0401 (let me know if you would like to added by leaving a comment here or dm me if you’d like to be added/removed)

I DO NOT HAVE WATTPAD. I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

[cordeliawhohung]

Real Talk.

Hi. I wish I had good news, but I don't. This is going to get very venty and probably triggering, so I apologize in advance, but I don't want to just vanish.

I've made the decision to private pretty much everything on my account here on tumblr, and I am heavily fighting the urge to delete everything off of my AO3. I realize that I'm sort of self destructing, in a way, and I'm trying very hard not to just toss everything into the void lest I come to regret it later, but here we are.

Things in my IRL have not been great, and they haven't been good for a long while. I started up this blog a little over a year ago at the crux of my depression, fighting off extreme suicidal ideation and untreated PTSD. On top of that, I had to support my mother through marrying her abuser and watching her slowly lose herself while I helped assisted in taking care of my kid brother, and helped my other brothers through their battles with addiction. Like everyone else in the world, I've had a lot on my plate. So much so to the point that my anxiety and stress is making me sick.

For the first time in a very long time, I had picked up writing again and found it to be a wonderful outlet to really get my feelings out in a safe way. It was so freeing being able to be in control of everything, and explore the very real and scary emotions that people have otherwise wanted me to snuff out. I wish I could snuff it out. I have had no choice but to feel everything I wish I could run away from, but at least this way I was the one dictating everything. Even through the pain and the last few months of pure disassociation, this was mine.

Now, I hate it. I hate it all. I can hardly stand looking at these stories or anything I write.

I am not going to share names; and please do not go looking for this person or harass them as I'd quite frankly rather kill myself than have another glimimp situation and would probably just actually delete all my works; but something that really kicked this up was someone plagiarizing one of my works. While not exactly copy and pasted, I could compare pretty much every line they wrote to my own work. I do not mind people taking inspiration from my works, but the fact someone took it upon themselves to essentially create a "fix-it-fic" of my work was honestly the last straw for me, I think. And to just regurgitate half of what I had written like some high schooler summarizing a story?

"Kore, did you try talking to them?" The idea of confrontation actually makes me want to throw up and considering the actual issues I have going on in my real life, I don't see how it's worth getting up in arms over fanfiction. Believe it or not, I'm not really good with words, and I end up making a fool of myself and coming off way different than I intend to half the time (blame the autism I guess). And I know for a fact that it won't change the fact that I still hate it. My works. Everything I write. I want it gone. I want to purge it.

I hate The Prowl and TMTIV. I can't see myself writing for them anymore. I've tried. I had to force out the last chapter of The Prowl only to just not even be able to edit it. (Yeah when that anon sent me that ask about The Prowl? "When are you updating it next?" I literally had the rough draft finished when they sent that and was trying to edit it, and now I don't even want to look at it anymore).

And this sucks because I really do enjoy sharing my stories with you guys, but it's just not fun anymore. And if it's not fun, then why do I keep doing it? And I feel bad, especially to my patreon supporters because I definitely didn't deserve the support when I started that up, and I certainly don't deserve it anymore, but I really need to step away. For a good, long while.

I don't like dealing in certainties, which is why I'm privating everything on here rather than deleting my blog, because maybe one day I'll come back and continue. But right now it's really not healthy for me. This place has grown to become so toxic. I think I'll start focusing on original works instead. Ones I may or may not post to Patreon just... depending, I guess. Writing is still so lovely and I don't want to lose it, but I certainly can't keep it here for now.

I want to apologize to my followers, and my mutals. I cherish every kind message you all have sent to me. I appreciate how considerate you all are, and I'm sorry I don't have the energy to respond half the time. I've deleted tumblr off of my phone, so to the mutuals who want to keep in contact with me, feel free to ask for my discord or something. I'll try to get on to check tumblr every now and then for that.

In the end, I really hope this is just me having some stupid mental breakdown, and that this isn't a forever goodbye, but we'll see.

I'll hopefully be back someday (: if not, I'm sorry and I still love you.

[suuuupernovaaa]

seze

seze [ˈsɛ.zɛ] n. blue flower

Anonymous Request: Reader confesses her feelings to Ao'nung and he rejects her pretty harshly, and Neteyam comforts her and eventually confesses to her and she realizes her feelings for Neteyam. When it comes time for them to mate before Eywa, Ao’nung regrets rejecting her, but it’s too late.

1,708 words

He looked me right in the eyes as he said it, with no shame, holding back nothing.

"I could never love someone like you."

He didn't yell it, he didn't even use a particularly harsh tone... he said it as if he was commenting that it looked like it might rain. It was a simple fact, and he seemed surprised that it wasn't something I'd considered.

I knew what he meant by 'someone like me'. Someone of little consequence. Someone with no particular or special skills. Someone on the outskirts of the clan, someone no one had ever really noticed.

Someone unimportant.

Though the words knocked the wind out of me, drained the blood from my face and made me feel light headed, all I could do was nod, turn, and walk slowly away.

It had taken weeks to work up the courage to tell Ao'nung how I felt. He had been so kind to me lately... I thought maybe, he felt the way I felt. Now I realized, that was foolish.

I left the beach for the protection of the treelined, and once I was out of sight, I sank to the ground, and let out a painful, low-pitched wail that I felt through my entire body.

The disappointment was hard, but the embarrassment was almost worse. Of course Ao'nung wouldn't be interested in someone like me; he would take a high-born mate, not a fisherman's daughter.

I cried myself to sleep, slumped against a tree, trying to accept my fate.

--

Neteyam noticed a change in Y/N right away. Though she mostly kept to herself, she was always cheerful and happy. He knew Kiri had a particular interest in Y/N, they had become sort of friends, and so she was around his family sometimes.

Something had happened to Y/N about three days ago, but Neteyam didn't know what. Though she was still around, she didn't speak, or smile, or engage hardly at all.

Neteyam asked Kiri what it was, but Kiri just shrugged and told him Y/N hadn't said anything to her.

He thought that was obtuse of Kiri. Hadn't he noticed the change in her friend? She was quiet before - not absolutely silent.

After another day of this, Neteyam could no longer hold his tongue, and when the opportunity presented itself and he found himself alone on the beach with Y/N, who was braiding a fishing net, he decided he had to speak up.

--

Neteyam sat next to me, lifting the net I was working on into his hands. It was small yet, but would be quite large when I was finished.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

I glanced over at him and nodded.

"Actually, I wanted to ask... if you're okay?"

My hands, once busy, settled into my lap, gripping the netting tightly. I was not okay, but I couldn't imagine why Neteyam would care. He had never shown any particular interest in me. In fact, no one had, save his sister, but even she hadn't noticed what was going on with me.

Ao'nung was right - I was not lovable.

A tear slipped from my eye, and I brushed it away, hoping Neteyam hadn't noticed.

"I'm fine," I replied.

Neteyam shook his head. "You are crying."

I turned away from him, pulling my knees to my chest. "It doesn't matter, Neteyam. Don't trouble yourself with me."

His warm, strong hand gripped my shoulder, and without thinking, I leaned over, pressing my cheek to his hand. The contact felt so good, and I tried to remember the last time someone had touched me like this... or at all.

"Tell me."

He pulled gently, and I turned to face him. The look on his face was so genuine, so earnest, and so full of concern. For a second, I wondered if he was teasing me. Maybe Ao'nung had told him what happened already, and Neteyam wanted to make fun of me.

That didn't make sense, though. Ao'nung and Neteyam weren't even close to being friends.

So maybe the concern was genuine.

The words spilled out of me then, like vomit, and I couldn't stop them. I told Neteyam about my years-long crush on Ao'nung, how I had pined for him, imagined a life with him, took his kindness to mean something it hadn't meant, and how when I'd told Ao'nung how I'd felt, he made it clear that I was too unimportant for someone like him to ever care about or notice.

I was crying by the end, fat tears rolling down my cheeks and splashing hot onto my lap, but it felt so good to finally tell someone that I didn't care, I couldn't feel embarrassed anymore. I had suffered enough embarrassment to last a lifetime over the past few days; I wanted to be done with that.

When I finished, I furiously wiped the tears from my eyes, and waited for Neteyam's response.

His expression was... angry. His brows furrowed, his mouth pursed, his eyes focused.

"I will kill that moron," he whispered.

I sighed and shook my head. "He doesn't have to love me."

"But he could at least be kind!"

I didn't reply, because I couldn't exactly argue with him.

Neteyam reached out unexpectedly, pulling me to him, wrapping me in a tight hug. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around him, scooting closer, our bodies pressed together.

It felt so comforting, so intimate, so nice to be treated like this and cared about, I would've started crying again if I'd had any tears left.

"Neteyam, thank you," I whispered.

He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. "You are important, Y/N. I have watched you. You are kind and thoughtful. You watch Tuk carefully to ensure she doesn't ever get hurt, you treat Kiri with thoughtfulness and protect her when others treat her like she's different, you even tolerate Lo'ak. I have never met anyone so gentle or caring. That someone could hurt you... it makes me want to kill him, Y/N. He had no right to speak to you that way. You are like... you are like a flower, with soft petals. You should be protected, given water and sun, not stomped on."

A flower. This is was nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, and Neteyam was staring into my eyes, so intently. How could someone like him, the son of Taruk Makto, have noticed and felt these things about me?

"Neteyam, I..." I searched my mind for a perfect reply, but could only come up with: "I see you, Neteyam."

"I see you, Y/N."

My lips spread wide in a smile - my first in many days - and Neteyam smiles in return.

--

After that day, Neteyam and I were scarcely ever apart. He became at first, a best friend, my closest confidant, and then naturally, it turned into something more.

There wasn't a moment when I realized it had happened. He just began holding my hand nearly all of the time, guiding me by the small of my back, touching his forehead to mine when we part and finally, one night, he kissed me.

It didn't even shock me. It felt natural, that Neteyam would kiss me. It felt really almost overdue. Neteyam should have been kissing me since the moment we met.

We were completely in step, in sync, together always. Neteyam was meant to be my mate, and I was meant to be his.

He didn't really ask me, formally, to be his mate. He just mentioned once, something about, "when we're mated..." and I agreed.

And the date was set... but we told almost no one, outside of his family and mine. It felt special, secret, just for us.

--

"Kiri says they're very happy," Tsireya told her mother while she chopped fruit. "I think it's nice, that Y/N has found someone. She's always seemed so lonely."

Ronal nodded. "That's good. Good for Y/N. She's a nice girl."

Ao'nung sat across from them, his jaw set in anger. Y/N had done him a kindness by telling no one about his harsh rejection, and he had since realized that.

It wasn't that he didn't like Y/N. He had always thought she was beautiful, and kind, and there was something interesting about her, a quality he hadn't seen in other women in the clan... but no one really knew her, or cared about her. Her parents weren't particularly important to the clan, and neither was she, and Ao'nung thought, as future Ole'eyktan, he should have someone better.

He had come to realize that he had been stupid. Better wasn't more well-known, more talented, more superficial... better was kind, and caring, and someone his mother thought was a 'nice girl'.

"They are to be mated before Ewya," Tsireya said with a blush. "They don't plan to make a ceremony of it, just the two of them."

Ronal smiled. "Beautiful."

Ao'nung sat, simmering in anger at the chance he had lost, thinking of how Neteyam had almost beat him senseless when he found out how Ao'nung had treated Y/N.

He knew now, he deserved it, and he'd missed his chance.

--

When Ao'nung had told me he could never love me, it had seemed like the end of my life. It made me feel stupid, and worthless, and ugly. I hadn't thought I'd ever recover.

Then, Neteyam breathed new life into me. He didn't have to, but he did, and he kept doing it, every single day since then.

We emerged from the water, Neteyam breathless, chest heaving, my mate before Ewya.

He pulled me into his arms once more, pressing a desperate kiss to my lips, holding my face in his hands, then wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I love you," he whispered over and over between kisses, and I thought I could cry with gratefulness and joy.

"I love you, Ma Neteyam," I replied. I pulled away, just for a moment, to smile at him. "Thank you."

He pushed the wet hair from my face. "My flower," he said with a soft smile, as he so often did.

The sting of rejection was long behind me, replaced by enough joy to last a lifetime.

[doctorbunny]

MILGRAM Hallucination Booklet Translation pt.1 (Yamanaka and DECO*27 Interview)

Context: This interview was from a booklet handed out at the MILGRAM Hallucination live show on the 21st January 2024 (if you want a copy you can buy it here) This translation was made possible by the generosity of @maxpawb sharing images of his booklet with me This translation is mostly my own, but @maristelina helped me with some sections. Now without further ado:

Q.01 Introduce Yourself. I'm Takuya Yamanaka. I'm the creator/planner/screenwriter for MILGRAM. I'm DECO*27. I work as the music producer for MILGRAM. I like Hatsune Miku.

Q.02 What reactions from the guards have been the most surprising so far? Yamanaka: There are a lot of guards that were born overseas, aren't there? Even though it's created with rather Japanese sensibilities, overseas audiences didn't seem to mind at all. Though the countries and sensibilities are different than what I anticipated, votes have become more multifaceted, it's very interesting, isn't it? DECO: To forgive or not forgive the prisoners what do you do, whether it goes as you expected or the result turns out to be quite the opposite, its fascinating. Maybe your nationality affects the kind of criteria you use to make judgements? I've been thinking about something like that.

Q.03 Is there anything you didn't imagine would happen at the start of the trial? Yamanaka: I didn't write it with a large overseas audience in mind, because from the start I wasn't worrying about popularity at all, I simply didn't think I'd be watching over so many guards. Milgram was developed as a more underground project, but it's popularity is a good surprise, isn't it. DECO: There were more people who got into MILGRAM without already caring about my music than I imagined, it was surprising. I feel like MILGRAM has spread further beyond than what I thought it would. I'm very grateful!

Q.04 So far, what's made you the happiest? Yamanaka: Everything. As a creator it brings me great joy to see a work that existed in my mind, take shape and be enjoyed by so many people. Other than that, because I also love the characters I've birthed, seeing all the guards talking about them and sharing their thoughts, both positive and negative, has to be the best feeling. DECO: It makes me happy to see lots of people analysing the meanings I put in my songs! The theories get pretty close to the truth too, I think... the power of all the guards is really cool.

Q.05 So far, what has been the most challenging? Yamanaka: Because I have to change the script in accordance with the audience's decisions, I can't create the entire story in advance. Furthermore, as of the second trial, there aren't only individual character storylines, the prisoner's verdicts begin to emerge and they influence each other. That is to say, I can't start writing until after everyone's results are out. Willingly subjecting myself to doing something this unreasonable, is what I feel is difficult for me. But because DECO*27 is also going through the same hell, we're holding on to some semblance of sanity. DECO: The story changes in accordance to all the guards' choices, and the music has to be written to match. I think this is harder for Yamanaka-P, who writes the script, than it is for me... But though its tough, I feel its really worthwhile, It makes me really happy to be able to communicate with everyone through my songs!

Q.06 Do you have any regrets like "I wish I had done it differently back then!"? Yamanaka: I've thought it over quite carefully, but there's nothing in particular. I think everyone involved in the project is giving it their all and its a really passionate environment. DECO: Nope! I've been able to put all the things I've thought of into my songs.

Q.07 Which prisoners are the easiest to write dialogue/music for? Yamanaka: If I had to pick one, it'd be Fuuta. He's the type of person that's pretty easy to write because his brain never shuts up. Other than him, Yuno and Shidou are relatively academic kids in theory, so they're easy to write because they're very clear when it comes to what they want to convey. [TL note just because its funny, the idiom Yamanaka uses is lit. "There is barking in the inside [of Fuuta's] head] DECO: It went smoothly for all of them!

Q.08 Which prisoners are the most fun to write dialogue/music for? Yamanaka: Muu's lines were the very fun to write~. I'm fascinated by her approach to life and can't help but envy how fun it must be to behave like that. Yuno and Amane are my runners up. I enjoy writing the kinds of characters who plainly state their ideas and speak eloquently. DECO: Mahiru! From the start writing about the relationships between men and women has been what you might call my forte, its enjoyable to make. I feel like this is also why I find Yuno easy to write for.

Q.09 Which prisoners are the hardest to write dialogue/music for? Yamanaka: Overwhelmingly, Haruka's dialogue takes me the longest to write. I have to use the parts of my brain that I wouldn't normally use to figure out how to not just directly convey what he wants to say. DECO: None of them!

Q.10 What's your favourite combination of characters? Yamanaka: Amane and Shidou. They're on completely different wavelengths about everything, and the best part is that there's no getting around it. My second pick might go to Yuno and Muu. They don't get along at all so their fights are never just superficial squabbling. DECO: I always like the interactions between Es and the prisoners. I'm liking how over the course of the voice drama interrogations, Es seems to be gradually coming to understand the prisoner's humanity. Especially Es + Mahiru!

Q.11 Do you want to be friends with any of the prisoners? Yamanaka: Shidou and Kazui. I like the idea of being friends with professional people. I think that people who choose to go into something specialized, its clear they have a kind of resolve and that's charming, isn't it? DECO: Yuno! I feel like she'd be easy to talk to. She seems like she's used to friends who maintain a good distance from each other. [note: while 'good' here can mean a fair amount of distance, in Japanese relationships the concept of boundaries is also built into the idea of distance, so in English you might talk about someone who is a close friend but still has good boundaries, but in Japanese this is someone who has the 'right amount'/ちょうどいい of distance from you, so this could mean Yuno doesn't have any close friends or that Yuno is just a good friend because she isn't going to turn up to your house unexpectedly and eat all the food in your fridge]

Q.12 Do you want to date any of the prisoners? Yamanaka: I love all of my characters a lot, but, well... how should I say it... I don't think I would date any of them. [TL note: I had to shift the wording to be more natural in English but the Japanese Q is more like 'which prisoner would you want to be your boy/girlfriend?' curse english for not having an exact equivalent to koibito, so Yamanaka's answer is more like 'I think would break up with all of them' its a nominal difference but my friend said to mention it bc its funny] DECO: I'm sorry.

Q.13 What's your favourite line/phrase? Yamanaka:

[Scene from Muu's first voice drama Crying B, TL taken from MILGRAMMER]

Es: Judging from your facial features, are you what they call “half-Japanese”? [lit. haafu/Half] Muu: Yeah… I’m biracial. [lit. daburu/Double]

It would have to be that wouldn't it? I got goosebumps when I wrote it it. DECO:

"It's not my fault"

I think that single phrase was able to represent Muu's character really well, if I do say so myself.

Q.14 Are there any prisoners that you think its good they're in MILGRAM? Yamanaka: All of them. Without these 10 people, this Milgram would be a complete failure. DECO: Without these 10 people, MILGRAM wouldn't exist!

Q.15 Is there anything the guards aren't aware of yet? Yamanaka: Of course, there may be some minor details, but I don't think there are any major points missing. The mysteries have already disseminated, I feel the full picture will be clearly revealed if the theories and wild speculations, which have been shared around the world, come together. As expected. DECO: There are! I hope you look forward to the gimmicks I wanted to put in my songs that will come out in the third trial!

Q.16 Is there anything you haven't been able to do up to now, but you want to try doing after this? Yamanaka: I want to do a stageplay. Every performance would be a different story set in Milgram. If anyone reading this is involved with stage productions, please contact me. [I can't find it now but I swear a while ago Yamanaka tweeted something similar like "I'm interested in doing stage adaptations of Caligula Effect or MILGRAM, if anyone is involved with stage production please contact me" I hope he does it, a MILGRAM stage play would be awesome] DECO: Fortunately, I'm already doing everything I want to do! Writing the trial 3 songs couldn't be more fun.

Q.17 Represent "MILGRAM" in one word. Yamanaka: 『人』 "People" DECO: 『噓』 "Lies" [This one is both simple and interesting so as a preview I'll share how akka and DMYM answered] akka: 『幻』 "Illusions" DMYM: 『信』 "Faith"

Q.18 Give a brief comment about the future of "MILGRAM". Yamanaka: There have already been plot developments that I personally wish I didn't have to write. The guards have all chosen a very intense path. It's frightening. I've also been ready to obey these choices since the start of MILGRAM, so I think we all should enjoy this story that can only be told once together. DECO: I've already started writing the prisoner's songs. It's hell. Please prepare yourselves. Q.19 A message for the guards. Yamanaka: Thank you for always looking after the prisoners. Milgram is a work that involves the participation of everyone, including yourself. The thoughts you had, the actions you took, the joy, and resentment you felt towards this prison, all this became a part of Milgram too. I would like you all to please live healthily in your realities alongside Milgram. DECO: Thank you for your hard work as guards. Although MILGRAM is full of troublemakers, we would be grateful if you could continue to watch over us for a long time to come. We will do our best to meet your expectations.

[A link to part 2 will be posted here when its ready]

(Japanese transcript under the cut)

Q.01 自己紹介を。 山中拓也です。 ミルグラムでは企画・原作・脚本をしています。 DECO*27です。 MILGRAMのサウンドプロデューサーを務めています。 初音ミクが好きです。

Q.02 これまでの看守たちからの反応で驚いたことは？ Yamanaka: 海外にもたくさんの看守が生まれるていったことですね。とっても日本的な感性で創っているので、海外ウケとかきにしていませんでした。やはり国が違うと感性も違うものだと思うので、より多面的な投票がされて、とても面白いですね。 DECO: 囚人が赦すor 赦さないのどっちになるか、と自分で予想していたりもしたのですが、結構それが逆の結果になっていることがあって興味深ったです。もしかして国民性で判断基準が違ってくるのかな？とか考えたりしました。

Q.03 審判開始時点では思い描いていなかったことはあるか？ Yamanaka: 海外ウケ気にしたことないと書きましたが、そもそもウケ自体あまり気にしていなかったので、シンプルにこんなにたくさんの看守の方に見守っていただけるコンテンツになるとは思っていませんでした。もっと、アンダーグラウンドで展開するつもりだったんですが、嬉しい悲鳴ですね。 DECO: 想像以上にDECO*27を知らない方にもMILGRAMを観てもらえたことに驚きました。自分の思っていた以上にMILGRAMが広がったなと感じています。ありがとうございます！

Q.04 これまでで一番嬉しかったことは？ Yamanaka: 全部です。自分の脳内にしかなかった作品が、形になり、たくさんの人に楽しんでもらえること自体がクリエイターとしては大きな喜ぶです。あとはやはり僕は自分が産んだ登場人物のことが大好きなので、プラスでもマイナスでも看守の皆様が彼らについて語って、想いをぶつけてくれいることが最高に嬉しいです。 DECO: たくさんの方に自分が音楽に込めた意味考察してもらえた嬉しいです！かなり正解に近い考察もあって、看守の皆さんのパワーすごいな…と思っていま��。

Q.05 これまでで一番大変だったことは？ Yamanaka: ユーザーの選択によって、シナリオを変更をするので、あらかじめ制作することができないということです。しかも二審からは個人のストーリーラインだけでなく、他の囚人の結果による影響も出てくる。ということは全員の結果出てからじゃないと制作できないということです。そんな無茶を勝手に自分でやりはじめて、勝手に自分で大変な思いをしています。同じ地獄をDECO27も味わっているので、なんとか正気を保っています。 DECO: 看守の皆さんの選択に応じてストーリー変化し、それに合うように音楽を書くことです。これは僕よりもシナリオを書く山中Pのほうが大変だろうな…と思いますが…大変ではありますがとてもやりがいをかんじていますし、曲を通じて皆さんとコミュニケーションが取れていることが嬉しいです！

Q.06　「今思えばやっておけばよかった！」のような後悔はあるか？ Yamanaka: よくよく考えてみたんですが、特に無いです。制作に関わる全員がベストを尽くしてくれているとてもアツい現場だと思います。 DECO: ないです！思いついたことはすべて楽曲で出力できています。

Q.07 シナリオや音楽の制作がスムーズな囚人は？ Yamanaka: 一人あげるとすればフータでしょうか。頭の中でわんわん言ってるので、かなり書きやすいタイプです。あとはユノや、シドウあたりの比較的理論的で偏差値高めな子たちは何が伝えたいかが明確なので書きやすいです。 DECO: みんなすんなりでした！

Q.08 シナリオや音楽の制作が一番楽しい囚人は？ Yamanaka: セリフを書いていて一番楽しいのはムウですかねぇ~。こんなふうにふるまえたち人生楽しいだろうという憧れすあります。次点でユノやアマネでしょうか。思想がはっきりしてて、弁の立つタイプは書くのが楽しいです。 DECO: マヒルです！自分が元々男女間の関係性を描くのが得意ということもあって、楽しく制作しています。そういった意味ではユノも書きやすいなと感じます。

Q.09 シナリオや音楽の制作に苦労する囚人は？ Yamanaka: 圧倒的にセリフを書くのに時間がかかるのはハルカです。彼が伝えたいことを、伝わらないようにする調整に普段は使わない脳を使います。 DECO: いないです！

Q.10 お気に入りの組み合わせはあるか？ Yamanaka: アマネとシドウ。すべての要素が噛み合わなさすぎて、どうしようもないところが良いです。次点でユノとムウかもです。表面的なケンカにならないだけでかなり気が合わないので。 DECO: エス対囚人の絡みは須く好きです。ボイスドラマの尋問によって段々とエスが囚人の人間性を掴んでいく様が気に入っています。特にエス＋マヒル！

Q.11 囚人を友達にするなら誰か？ Yamanaka: シドウとカズイ。友達にいてほしい職業の人たちです。なにかのスペシャリストを選択する人たちというのは、何��しらの覚悟が決まっている人だと思うのでそれだけで魅力的ですね。 DECO: ユノです！話していて気楽そうだなと感じます。お互い良い距離感を保てる友達になれそう。

Q.12 囚人を恋人にするなら誰か？ Yamanaka: 僕は登場人物のことを全員最高に愛してますが、まぁ、なんというか、全員やめとこうと思います。 DECO: ごめんなさい。

Q.13 お気に入りのセルフやフレーズは？ Yamanaka: 「その顔立ち、ハーフというやつか？」「うん...…ダブル」ですね。書いてて鳥肌でした。 DECO: 「悪くないもん」 1フレーズでムウのキャラクターを上手に表現できたなと我ながら思っています。

Q.14 ミルグラムにいてくれてよかった、と思う囚人は？ Yamanaka: 全員です。この10人でなければ、このミルグラムになっていないので。 DECO: MILGRAMはこの10人がいなければ成立しません！

Q.15 看守たちにまだ感づかれていないことはあるか？ Yamanaka: もちろん、些末な部分はあるかと思いますが、大きいところだとないんじゃないですかねぇ。既に問題はバラまいたし、世界中に発信された考察や妄想を組み合わせたらきっちり全貌が明らかになる気がします。さすがです。 DECO: あります！第三審で僕が楽曲を通じてやりたかったギミックが出てくるので楽しみにしていてください！

Q.16 今できていないが、今後やってみたいことはあるか？ Yamanaka: 舞台がやりたいです。毎公演、コンセプトの異なるミルグラムで行われる舞台。舞台制作に関わる方が、読んでおられましたら是非山中まで。 DECO: 有り難いことに、やりたいことは全部やれています！第三審の曲を書くのが楽しくてしょうがないです。

Q.17 「ミルグラム」を一文字で表せ。 Yamanaka: 『人』 DECO: 『噓』

Q.18 今後の「ミルグラム」について一言。 Yamanaka: 既に僕が個人的には書かないでいたかった展開が確定しています。看守の皆さんなかなか強烈な道筋を選びました。恐ろしい。自分もその選択に従う覚悟をしてミルグラムをスタートしているので、一度きりの物語を皆さんと一緒に楽しもうと思います。 DECO: 既に楽曲を書き始めている囚人もいます。地獄です。覚悟しててください。

Q.19 看守たちへメッセージを。 Yamanaka: いつも囚人たちのことを世話してくださってありがとうございます。ミルグラムとは、参加する皆さん自身を含めてミルグラムという作品です。この監獄に対して感じた思い、起こした行動、喜び、 憤り 、それらすべてが作品の一部になります。是非ミルグラムと共にある皆さんの現実を健やかに生きてくださいませ。 DECO: いつも看守としてのお勤めご苦労さまです。曲者ばかりのMILGRAMですが、これからも末永く見守っていただけると幸いです。期待に応えられるよう、尽力してまいります。

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hi! Could i request one for Joel Miller with a younger reader? Using the prompt "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit." Where he's the one fighting to be together and she's the one doubting herself because she feels too immature and inexperienced for such man.

I'm so sorry if that's too specific, you can just ignore what i said and use only the prompt🫣😅 thank you 💖

Hello, my love. Thank you very much for this message. I hope my scribbles cheer you up. It's nothing special.❤️ i'm sorry for all mistakes

warnings : age gap (reader in her 20s, Joel in his 30s), Sarah mentioned, insecurity, but mostly fluff

prompts list here

The last guests had left and all that was left was a mountain of dishes to wash and leftovers from the barbecue in the fridge. The house was finally quiet. 

Sarah, yawning widely, said a quiet "Goodnight" and dragged herself to her room, and you remained on the battlefield.

"I'm exhausted..." Joel groaned as he entered the kitchen, but looking at you he smiled sweetly "But you still look stunning..." he approached you and after a moment his strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you to him. His lips brushed yours a few times. "Ready to go to bed? I think I still have the strength for a little cuddles, if you're interested."

"Mhmm..."

Joel immediately sensed that something was wrong. You couldn't hide it, and he was sensitive to every change. Although your hands rested on his broad chest and you moved as he gently rocked you in his arms, your thoughts were somewhere far away.

"Is everything okay, sweetie?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine." You replied a little unconvinced.

He brushed a strand of your hair away, grabbed your chin and lifted it so you were looking at him. His dark, gentle eyes were staring at you intently.

"What's bothering you, baby? You can tell me."

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, clearly embarrassed that his attention was focused on you. That's how Joel was. 

When you were together - you were the center of his world. This charming, caring and protective guy had stolen your heart that night when he freed you from a persistent admirer in the pub and you had been together ever since. 

It would have been easy to love Joel Miller, if not for all the thoughts in your head.

"That's stupid." You finally replied. "I don't want to talk about it. We can go upstairs and cuddle some more if you feel like it."

"You know I always want to take you to my bed, but we're talking now, and this is important." He saw you roll your eyes and laughed. "Come on, honey, tell me. I can see that something's been bothering you for a while now, maybe it's a good idea to work it out, huh?" 

You bit your lip as you considered his words. Joel never judged you, he was always ready to listen to you, he was such a great listener. You took a deep breath.

"Sometimes I wonder if I even fit in here?" you mumbled.

"Where?"

"Here, to you, to your life... Joel, doesn't it bother you that I'm so much younger than you?"

He frowned and looked at you carefully, trying to understand what you meant. Yes, there was an age difference between you, but he'd never thought about it more.

"I saw your driver's license. You didn't fake it, did you?" he asked, and you nudged him in the shoulder.

"Of course not!" you groaned "Sometimes though, when your friends are around, or when I'm hanging out with mine, I feel like I'm not good enough for you, you know... You work, you have a beautiful daughter, and me? I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life."

"You work too."

"It's a shitty job!"

"Sarah adores you."

"And I love her."

"And I love you. If it weren't for Sarah, I'd be at the same stage as you at that age. It's good that you're trying to find your way and you know perfectly well that I'll support you in everything. You're my girl, right?"

You nodded. "I'm sorry, sometimes I doubt myself so much..."

"That's why you have me." Joel quickly pecked your lips "And I've got your back, right? Baby..." you looked into his eyes full of love and care "You're the one that matters to me. I don't care what anyone might say. If you want me, with all my baggage..."

"You know I don't want anyone else." you interrupted him quickly "But recently... Ann was so insistent that you stay with us when you dropped me off at her birthday party. You must have been embarrassed."

"You know I stayed for you, and frankly, I don't regret it one bit. I love spending time with you, and we don't get much of it."

"Thank you." You whispered, already calmed down a bit.

His warm hand stroked your cheek. In some strange way, he always knew what to do or say to calm your fears.

You wanted to kiss him. To press your lips against his and kiss him until you both ran out of oxygen.

"Wait a minute."

Suddenly, Joel let go of you and left the kitchen, disappearing into the dark hallway. You heard the slam of the garage door and for a moment you wondered what it all meant, but soon he was back again.

"I wanted to give it to you in a while." I said, holding a box in my hands. "Our anniversary is in a month, but I've been keeping this hidden in the garage for a while now..."

Your heart started beating like crazy.

"The fact that a girl like you even looked at me, fuck, is like a golden ticket. You're everything I needed and more." Joel opened a small box and your eyes were met with a beautiful silver pendant with a shiny heart "It's nothing. I just thought of you when I saw it and..."

He didn't have a chance to finish, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Joel instinctively pressed you to him, deepening the kiss and purring quietly with satisfaction.

"So you like it?" he muttered, your fingers slipping into his hair pleasantly massaging his scalp.

"A lot." you replied "And I like you even more. I love you so much."

"Not as much as I love you, babe." he replied "Come upstairs. I think I'd like to see you in that pendant."

"You can put it on here." you noticed, but Joel shook his head and looked at you in that one specific way "Ohhh!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean." he laughed and pulled you towards the stairs.

Joel just wanted you for who you were, even if you doubted yourself at times. He knew that from the start - you were perfect for him. And you loved him madly. You loved Sarah too, he didn't need anything more. 

Except maybe to give you that other box he hid in the garage and ask you that all-important question.

[theabigailthorn]

Hey I’ve been a fan for a little while now, and I just wanted to say that you’ve been an inspiration for me, a younger transfemme. But I do wanna also ask: what’s it like being a trans woman with her life together? I’m 19 (as of sending), been on hrt for almost 5 months, and have been trans for a year and change. But I’m scared. So, I guess, I wanted to ask: does being trans ever become the norm, my baseline? What’s it like after 2-3 years? And does it get any less confusing or scary?

I think there are a few things going on here.

I don't have my life together as much as it might seem; I just don't show you all the ways it's not. I don't talk publicly about the auditions I don't get, or the things I try and fail at, or the insecurities in my own head that hold me back sometimes, or the handful of decisions I've made that were bad calls and which still keep me up occasionally. I've talked about trauma and mental illness in the past, but I only ever discuss stuff I'm comfortably over - when I'm overwhelmed or in the middle of a crisis I don't post about it. I don't set out to deceive you by presenting myself that way, I just keep my most private stuff private. Everybody has failures and regrets and insecurities: "it's a sign of having lived," as my friend Phoebe told me today. But you see a curated version of me that appears not only more together than the real person, but more together than any real person.

Also, if you're 19 a lot of your life hasn't been in your control until pretty recently and a lot of it still might not be. I'd say it's okay to not feel like you have it all together. You just transitioned, which I think is one of the hardest things a human being can do: you can give yourself credit for that even if you feel like you're not settled into it yet. Congratulations!

As for it becoming the baseline, I mean yeah? Kinda? At least for me. Sometimes I forget. I had a moment today in the gym where I saw a man and I was like "Oh yeah, I used to be one of them, sortof? Weird!" The first year is the hardest, or so they say. I wouldn't say I get less confused or scared now, just scared and confused in different ways. I worry less about getting attacked in the street than I did in my first year, for example. (I'm lucky and privileged in that regard.) But I worry a lot more about other people. I struggle a lot with survivor's guilt, which is something only people who survive get! Anyone who's had a drink with me in the last six months has heard me beat myself up because the night of The Prince premiere in New York was the night of Brianna Taylor's vigil in the UK. That wasn't a deliberate decision - the premiere was booked and paid for months before she was even killed - but I've become a lot more sensitive to those sorts of feelings precisely because I spend less time worrying about myself. I'm more aware now of what my transness means for other people. Like, I made an ironic joke when I came out that I'd become The Transgender Princess of TERF Island, and it's kindof haunted me since - I didn't set out to become "a famous trans person" but it's happened a little bit and it's going to happen a lot more next year. That comes with serious responsibilities and a few mild drawbacks, as well as perks, obviously. So I guess that's a longwinded way of saying I might be a weird person to ask this question because, at least for right now, my transness, my whole self, doesn't just belong to me.

Oh also, some great advice I got from my friends: Paris: "Only change the things that bother you on your good days," and Mattie: "Don't believe anything you think about your life after 9pm."

[yooneunhay]

Essence of the Feathered Heart

【ＣＨＡＰＴＥＲ　ＯＮＥ】

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; (eventually) ot8ateez x hybridbird!reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; human!seonghwa (ft; human!hongjoong, foxhybrid!wooyoung) x hybridbird!reader

A/N ♥ hello reader !! this is my first time ever writing a fanfic or really a story so please dont be too harsh ^^,

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𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐯

it was early morning, maybe about 7am, when i was walking back to my little cabin in the forest. i had only been living here for about 2 years with no one having had found out. i was an outcast to my family. my whole family was born with beautiful black shiny wings while i was born with white ones. my grandpa was the only one who accepted me but it was probably because he also was born with white wings. he use to tell me how beautiful my wings were and how i should "never change who i am for anyone".

i think it was just his old age talking and him having regrets of how he lived his life and not wanting the same for me. he passed away 2 years ago which is why i now live here at this cabin. without my grandpa to protect me from my family they kicked me out, banished me if you will. for obvious reason i never got along with the rest of my family. when i was younger i would often run away to this cabin to be away from my family. i thought no one could find this cabin since it was so far into the forest, i thought that until i heard the cracking of the leaves outside the cabin. all of my senses are immediately filled, i close my eyes and crouch down so i'm not in view of the windows, trying my hardest to hear every little sound i could.

bang!

if i didn't hear the bullet break through the window then i still would've felt it pierce through my right wing. it hurt, a lot, but it didn't falter my ablilty to fly thankfully. immediately i was up in the air trying to escape from the cabin. i still didn't know what was going on but i knew i had to get out but as i was almost out the door, the wind created by my wings as i tried to fly out the door causing dust to fly everywhere, occasionally losing balance from pain and knocking vases, side tables, and some chairs over, i noticed i started not be able to feel my right wing.

"what? what's going on? ugh it hurts so much.." i thought to myself.

my vision starts to go blurry and i can't feel my wings anymore and i'm starting to lose feeling in the rest of my body and then..black. i felt my body hit the dirt just outside the cabin. i most likely wasn't even 10 feet from the steps leading up to the porch when i hit the ground the air getting knocked out of me. i could somewhat make out the voices around me.

"2 people. men. but..i can't see them" i thought to myself.

i tried to cover my body with my wings to provide me some sort of protection from these 2 men but as hard as i tried they wouldn't move.

"hunters? no they would've killed me already." i couldn't think anything else to myself as i soon lost conscious.

-----

𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

"Seonghwaaa, do you have to gooo?" i heard my fox hybird ,Wooyoung, cry to me as i put my shoes on.

"you want that new toy don't you?" i said back to him as he continued to pout at me.

"yes but can't Hongjoong get it? i wanted to keep playing with you.."

as Wooyoung continued to pout to me about not wanting me to leave, Hongjoong came up behind him putting the top of his head.

"come on Woo, let Seonghwa have some time alone. dinner is ready, i'll put some in the microwave for when you get home Hwa." i nodded to him,

"i'll be back soon Woo don't worry, we can keep playing games once i'm back."

i stood up from putting my shoes on, petting the top of his head behind his ears where he liked it. he purred a little. i waved to Wooyoung and Hongjoong saying i'd be quick. walking to the store was quiet, the sun was starting to set but it was still pretty bright outside. i walked up to the adoption center where they also sold lots of hybrids stuff, clothes for hybrids that have tail holes, hats with ear holes, some shirts with holes for wings, toys for teething or just to play with. i walked into the adoption center going to the section with toys looking for the one my fox hybrid wanted badly enough to ask me to go out and get it right then and there. as i was browsing through the toy section i could hear the front doors to the adoption center open. i didn't bother looking over, since i assumed it was just another customer coming in, but it was the blur of white that caught my eye. i looked over and saw two men basically dragging in this bird hybrid who was thrashing around clearly trying their hardest to get out of their restraints and the hold of the two men. the wings on this bird hybrid were so beautiful, breath taking, a gorgeous white color. i noticed the hint of red on the bird hybirds restrained wings.

"blood. they must've been captured as a unregistered hybrid." i thought to myself.

i felt bad. it must hurt. i watched as the two men dragged away the pretty winged hybrid. i noticed the muzzle the men had put on the hybrid. i didn't know what it would be for considering how the hybrid seemed to not have any sharp teeth. "maybe they just bite.." i said under my breath. the hybrids head turned once i said that, our eyes meeting. they looked so lost and almost defeated when we made eye contact. that was before they continued thrasing around and then they were pulled to the adoption side, behind a wall, to the orange code part of the center i'm assuming.

"orange codes, aggressive hybrids that are put into confinement, usually strapped to a bed of some sort depending on the hybrid, until they have calm down." i thought to myself as the lady at the front desk checked out the toy i was buying.

i left the adoption center, walking home, but i couldn't get that hybrid out of my head. once i reached home i gave Wooyoung the toy he wanted and gentelly patted his head has he started to play with it.

"what's wrong?"

i looked up from my daze to see Hongjoong looking up at me from his laptop at the table.

"nothing..just thinking." i responded.

it's not like i was lying to him or anything but there was a weird gut feeling in my stomach as i spoke to him. "oh come on, don't give me that. there's clearly something bothering you." i breathed in as i gathered my thoughts to tell him.

"i saw this beautiful bird hybrid at the adoption center when i went to get Woo his toy..i just can't stop thinking about them. how much pain they must being going through right now."

Hongjoong knew where this kind of conversation would lead, i knew it too. Hongjoong sighed as he got up from the table where he was working on his laptop and sat next to me on the couch.

"is this your way of asking me if we can adopted the hybrid?"

i stayed silent. in a way, even if i didn't want to admit it, i was asking him if we could take in another hybrid. we already had three though..even though our apartment was fairly big, having four hybrids would be a lot to take care of. i knew that and yet, that one hybrid wouldn't leave my mind.

------

hii tysm for reading this far !! i know this chapter wasn't much plot but it was a lot to write so i hope you're happy with it anyway ^^ if anyone wants to be on my tagged list pls comment for it !!

[callofdudes]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Autistic Reader headcanons.

A/N: I myself am not autistic but I do know a fair bit about it. So I figured I'd write headcanons before writing a fic just to dip my toes in and see if I can get it right.

I know that autism can present a bit differently for some things across different people. Please feel free to let me know if something in this list is not correct. ❤️

Ghost would be lying if he said he didn't give you extra special treatment apart from his other teammates. And it's well justified. Simon knows not to compare you to a child but he also knows that you need things the others don't.

Simon has picked up on subtle signs throughout the months working with you. How sometimes when things didn't go according to plan on base it would leave you more stressed out than it should have. Sometimes if your food wasn't what you had expected it to be, he'd notice how you'd react.

He eventually consulted your file before making any decisions. That's how he'd found out you are autistic.

Simon knew someone who was autistic, so he made sure to keep his eye close on you.

He noticed each little shift. How you would stim with your clothing or your hair, too embarrassed to carry a fidget toy around base. But that didn't matter to Simon. He made sure to take care of everything. He bought some fidget toys small enough to fit in his jacket and when in meetings or just sitting around, he'd pull a toy like magic from his pocket and hand it over.

You'd been incredibly grateful the first few times, and then it just became routine that Simon would carry around the toys for you and have one on hand whenever you needed.

He also noticed which ones you liked, and didn't like. Some you would hand back because they didn't feel right on your fingers. Others clicked and slid in a way you didn't quite like, and he kept a tab of that. He compared fidget toys you did like to similar ones and was very precise every time he got you a new one.

He made sure that in every environment he was nearby. How you'd react to the lights, different sounds. How you'd react when it got to loud and crowded or too quiet. What noises bugged you and what calmed you.

When on missions, Simon made sure to talk you through each step. He thought his voice would help you to face the unexpected. Telling you where to go and exactly what to do, ready to face any situation.

"Take a deep breath y/n, you're doing great. Two Shadows on your left, you can take them out from where you are without being spotted"

Your level of empathy and emotional awareness was also something he had to take into account. You could sensitive to anger. You could feel a great deal of empathy and almost take on the burden of It being your fault even if you had nothing to do with it. Because of this, Simon made sure that you were aware his anger was never on you.

"Simon? Did I do something wrong? You looked really upset when you looked at me earlier and I just thought that maybe-"

Simon places his hand on your shoulder. "No no, just had a rough morning. You did absolutely nothing wrong. Got it?"

Simon has also become much more aware of how he teases you. You were emotionally aware to the point that you very clearly understood Simon would joke about being hurt, or would make fun of you and it was all jokes. He understood that you understood how his emotions worked as well.

But there was the occasional time where Simon would pretend to be hurt by your words and you'd have genuine regret. It doesn't happen as often as he would have thought, but when it does, he's right there to reassure you he is completely fine.

Simon actually gets more upset than you do when people call you a child wrapped up in an adults body with a nice little bow on top. Of course you have your traits but Simon has seen your hobbies and interests. You're no super genius but you are more than a child. You just have a different trajectory point on life's train tracks. And Simon makes sure to remind anyone he doesn't think is being respectful of you as a person.

Nightmares can affect you more harshly because of your emotional investment with things and the people around you.

The first time Simon saw you become overstimulated he was a little scared he'll be honest. He panicked a little bit. But now he knows exactly what to do. At first he tried to comfort you, allowing you to be swallowed up in his embrace, he crushed you tightly in his arms and smoothed his hands over your muscles. It would sometimes take a while for you to come down from your high, but he was there for every moment.

When he becomes a bit better at knowing how to handle a situation when you get over stimulated the process is smoother. Simon will notice how you can completely shut down. Sometimes it's near a meltdown with tears flowing everywhere. And other times you just disconnect. You don't move, don't speak, completely distant. Simon approaches you gently and picks you up in his arms.

"This ok?" He whispers near your ear as to not startle you. You cling to him tightly, burying your head in his neck. "Alright, come on, you've had a long day."

He rubs your back and brings you to your room. If you're away from base he just finds a separate room that is quiet. Anywhere he can go to separate the noise and bustling energy from you. If you're in your room he'll lay you down and just get you to relax.

Tears flow down your cheeks, hands still clasping the material of Simon's hoodie. Simon gently rubs your collar and down over your shoulders. He presses on different parts of your arms until you relax. "Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath." Simon breathes in deeply, prompting you to mimick. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and fetches your heavier blanket from the end of the bed. "See? You're ok."

He grabs your fidget from your desk and place it in your hand, or sometimes he'll lean over you and allow you to play with his sweater.

He talks softly and calmly, he does know kinder and softer words of reassurance help.

Sometimes all you want to do is hug Simon under the warmth of your weighted blanket, his arms wrapped around you like mountains compressing you from all angles.

And sometimes Simon will shut the door, lay you on your back and lay the weighted blanket just above the bend in the bottom of your spine. If you want a fidget toy he'll get you one to distract your hands while he runs soothing motions along your muscles, feeling them relax and contract. He plays white Noise in the background for you, or he'll give you his phone so you can watch soap cutting videos or other visually satisfying things.

"How are you doing?" He whispers near your ear, thumbs rubbing over your stomach and up around your back to cup your shoulder blades. "Look at it." You flip the phone to show a satisfying paint video. "Oh, that's a cool one isn't it?" You nod and go back to watching it.

Wherever Simon got so good at doing massages, you would not change it for the world. You've expressed before how nice they feel and how they calm you down. And Simon continues to do them.

Simon always makes sure that when you're over stimulated you have something to do with your hands. Again, if you want to play with his hoodie he'll stay with you so you can. If you want to run your hands through his hair, he's become comfortable enough to allow it.

"What are you doing up there?" He asks with a smile. You hum, combing your fingers through the short hair of his nape and up into the longer locks. "Soft." You express the feeling over your fingertips. "Yeah? I did shower." "I like your hair."

The occasional times you go nonverbal and are unsure how to express your needs, Simon will pull out a few toys and just crawl up next to you. He holds out his hoodie strings and comb his fingers through your hair.

He lays next to you, holding up one of the fidget toys. You gently take it and allow your fingers to move over it. Simon stays, fingers moving to drift through your scalp. You abandon the toy quicker than he expected and reach for his hoodie. "Oh you want this?" He smiles and moves closer so you can play with the strings of his hoodie.

Simon knows that you are incredibly passionate about what makes you happy. He often bugs you that you never shut up, but he knows you love it. One time when you both couldn't sleep early on the morning, Simon made you both tea and sat silently while you went on for nearly four hours about the lore of your favorite game/movie/TV show. He'd add little key points and poke out certain details, which would lead you down a detailed side rant before coming back to wrap everything up. The conversations would ring you dry of information. Simon would be lying if he said he didn't like it when you info dumped on him.

It was one of your ways you expressed your love. Sharing these things that made you so incredibly happy and Simon wanted to be a part of that.

Simon is still learning, and honestly he's very happy to learn. Sometimes he gets things right and sometimes he doesn't. But he is always here to make sure you get the care and provision you need. Whether it's taking a step back or a step in.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for breaking up with my boyfriend suddenly and lying about why?

I (21M) broke up with my boyfriend (18M) a few days ago. It was a painful decision that I already somewhat regret.

We met in uni and have been dating for about 3 months, and our relationship had been going extremely well, but I started to worry about our age gap. I was concerned about it when we first started flirting, but when he confessed to me I was so happy he felt the same way that I forgot about my worries for a little.

I'm VERY chronically online so I'm familiar with age gap discourse, and 18 and 21 seems to be a very grey area. The more I thought about our age gap, the more I looked into peoples' opinions on it online, and these opinions often didn't seem very positive. It made me super nervous about how people might view our relationship and also made me worry that I might be doing something predatory despite my intentions being pure. People in particular seemed to have issues when the girl was older (which I think is fucking weird, but anyway!) I'm a guy, but I'm FTM, only out to my boyfriend, and everyone around me knows me as a girl, so this was pretty worrying.

Our relationship wasn't a public thing - we're both private people and we wanted to date for a few months before going around parading it. But my boyfriend was getting more eager to show us off, which I was happy about before, but all my doomscrolling online had made me worry.

The breaking point for me was a youtuber from my country saying in a video that he found 18 and 21 creepy. Prior to that I'd tried to reassure myself with the idea that while people from like, the USA, might find the age gap weird, people from my own country (England) wouldn't care. But that video destroyed that safety blanket.

I became disgusted with myself and started to see myself as a bad person. I was also worried that when our relationship became more public, people would hate me. I've never had many friends, university is the happiest I've been by a mile in regards to my social life - I didn't want to lose that. Plus, I live at university and can't really move out right now, so I didn't want to be trapped with people who thought I was a creep.

So, after a particularly bad breakdown, I broke up with my boyfriend. I told him that I was struggling to juggle the relationship with my studies and was starting to become tired, and felt it was best for the both of us to end things. It was a believable reason because in general I have very little energy, so he completely bought it - but he was devastated. He kept apologising for not seeing the signs and kept saying he thought things were going so well, and he was right, because they were! I felt awful.

I feel really guilty about what I did, but I was in a state of panic. I don't know whether I did it more to 'cleanse' myself or for the sake of my reputation, I don't even know if the age gap is wrong, I don't even know if people would have reacted badly! I was just scared, but now I feel like a shitty person for what I did. I don't know if the reasoning behind my actions can justify completely blindsiding and lying to my ex like that. I thought I loved him, but maybe I don't if I was willing to do that!

So, tell me honestly, AITA?

[playstation-dreamcast]

This came to me in a dream. Anyway:

Now Loading...

Choose Your Character: Albert Wesker

Summary: For the sake of the mission, Albert Wesker is willing to do just about anything within reason to gain the trust of his S.T.A.R.S members. Apparently, building a snowman with his favorite new rookie is within reason.

Tags: Fluff, S.T.A.R.S Wesker, Nicotine use, Crack treated so serious none of my beta readers thought it was crack, Noncanon compliant RPD, Gender Neutral Reader.

Word count: 3k

It all started with that stupid fucking snowman.

A childish game he played to indulge his subordinate and gain their trust late one night after the S.T.A.R.S office had closed. He knew better even then, that it was an absolute waste of time. But, he complied, because it was you who asked.

Okay, maybe it didn't start with The Snowman. Maybe it started with the cigarette you shared. Sitting on the snow covered sidewalk, passing the smoke between the two of you while you talked. It came so easy to him, just talking with you. It was never that easy with anyone else.

He could still smell the smoke when he closed his eyes. He could see the snow caught in your lashes, and the fog of your breath. He could still feel how tight his chest got, and the roller coaster feeling of his stomach dropping when he finally had to admit to himself that he was sweet on you. And that he couldn’t keep lying to himself about it.

And you had no idea. You smiled like it was any other night. 

"Hey, can I bum a cigarette off you?" You asked him that at least twice a week since you started working as a member of S.T.A.R.S. It got to the point that he started to plan for it. Sadly, he was late to work this morning and didn't have time to buy another pack.

"Sure," he said, simply handing you the one he had just lit. You took it gratefully and smiled.

"Thanks Captain, you save me once again," you teased as you sat down next to him, taking a drag off the smoke. "You gonna light one?"

"That was my last one," he confessed with a shrug; chin resting in his hand, elbow resting on his knee. He thought about leaving, it wasn’t like he had anything left to do here. But he stayed anyway. He’d regret it later.

"What? Then why'd you give it to me dude?"  you scoffed.

He looked at you out of the corners of narrowed eyes. "Don't call me 'dude,'" he, half-heartedly at best, reprimanded as you rolled your eyes, "and because you asked for it. As your captain it's my job to take care of you." He didn't mean for it to come out like that, but he wasn't going to backtrack now and make it weird.

"Ah yes, taking care of me by giving me cancer. Truly, so selfless of you." You giggled as you handed him the smoke. 

He took it without thinking, easily taking a puff off it. "If I was worried about that, I'd have to fight a losing war with half the team- myself included." He took another drag to prove his point, "I like to think I pick my battles more wisely than that."

You hummed as you nodded, taking the cigarette back and putting it to your lips. You huddled closer to your captain, watching the snow fall and seeking his warmth in the cold. "It's pretty out." You smiled.

"It's nothing we don't see every winter." He took the smoke back.

You playfully pushed him, "Oh sorry Oscar didn't realize you fell out of your can."

"I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm calling you a grouch, Wesker." He nodded in acknowledgement of your clarification, and didn't try to argue. Just took a particularly long drag and handed the cigarette back to you. 

You took your turn with it and continued. "You gotta be able to still see the beauty in the small things, and the wonder in the world. Or else you just become old and bitter, and nobody wants that." He didn't have the heart to tell you he was already there. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, watching as new snow covered the old. It had become a ritual between the two of you – one Wesker had grown quite fond of. Every night when the two of you closed the S.T.A.R.S office together, you took the time to share a smoke break before going your separate ways for the night.

Wekser looked forward to them more than he cared to admit. At first it was just another thing he did to ensure all members of S.T.A.R.S trusted him. Fifteen minutes at the end of a shift was a small price to pay for the confidence of his team, and as long as they had confidence in him they wouldn’t doubt him. 

He wasn’t quite sure when he started looking forward to your quiet conversations, just like he wasn’t really sure when he started buying two packs of cigarettes to accommodate them. Or how he wasn’t sure when he started looking for little excuses throughout the day to touch you, to talk to you, to have your attention. At some point you had wormed your way into his mind and made your home there. He would have resented you for it if he could find it in him to do so.

He almost jumped when you finally broke the silence. "You know, when I was a kid, my dad would always let me stay home for the first snow of the season- didn't matter if school was canceled or not."

Wekser took the cigarette from your hand. "Sounds like irresponsible parenting to me, keeping a child from their education." He finally killed the smoke, flicking it off into the abyss.

"Maybe!" you admitted, "but, those days were important to me. We'd always go out and make a giant snowman – as big as we could – and try to keep him alive for the season." You smiled at your warm childhood memories. "It was fun."

"I've never built a snowman before." Wesker confessed. He wasn't sure why he did, it's not like you were asking. It just fell out of him. You had a way of pulling things out of him without even trying, something he should have been more wary about than he was- all things considered. 

You looked at him shocked. "What?! No way! Not even when you were a little kid?"

He looked back at you and shook his head, "The boys home where I grew up had no time for such frivolous things. As long as the power was on, we were in school. And on the rare occasions it was knocked out, well. We had other priorities." It felt so natural, being so open with you. Maybe it was because you were always so open with him. Or maybe you were one of the few people that treated him like a person with vulnerabilities. It used to scare him, on some deeper level. It still did in a lot of ways.

Lately though, he's just grateful to have someone other than Birkin to talk to. "Captain, that's one of the saddest things I've ever heard. That's like, a super villain's backstory."

He finally turned his head to you. "What? Not being able to build a snowman?" He scoffed. You were blowing this out of proportion.

"Being a child and not being allowed to play," you clarified. Oh. He had never thought of it that way. It's not that you were wrong, he wasn’t allowed to play as a child – not really. It's just… he never really took the time to think about his childhood. He didn't like the feeling it gave him.

So he shrugged again, brushing off the memories before they had a chance to linger. "The past is the past. There's no use dwelling on it."

"Fuck that, come on!" You grabbed his hand and pulled him off the steps. He didn't even have time to fully comprehend just what was happening before you pulled him to the patch of grass the RPD called a lawn. "We're building a snowman.”

He huffed out a sorry excuse for a laugh and rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious Rookie,” He said as he watched you gather the starting snowball.

“As serious as a heart attack, Captain,” you said, handing him the growing ball, “And I’m not a rookie anymore, I’ve been with S.T.A.R.S for six months now!”

He fought a small smile back at your insistence that you were – in fact – a highly trained soldier after a mere six months. “That’s still rookie status, dear.” The pet name came out so easily he hardly registered it, but you clearly did. He could tell by how you froze, your eyes widening ever so slightly. He needed a distraction. He held up the snowball, “And what do you want me to do with this?”

You relaxed as you remembered the task at hand. “Roll it around in the snow, I’m working on the base, so you work on the middle.” 

He made no move to hide his annoyance. “This is ridiculous, I want you to know this.”

“Then go home,” you shrugged. “No one’s keeping you here by force, no ones putting a gun to your head. If you don’t wanna help, you're free to go.” You acted so unbothered when you said it, focusing on growing the snowman's base. It hit a nerve in his heart he didn’t even know he had. You made it so blatantly clear that you didn’t need him there. Suddenly, the only thing he could think about was proving to you that you did need him there. 

He started wordlessly working on the middle of the snowman, trying to focus on the smile on your face and not on how ridiculous he surely looked. “That should be good,” you said, pointing to the ball he was working on. “Go ahead and put it on the base.” 

He took a second to look at the base you’d made, and the progress he made on the middle part, then got right back to adding snow. “No.”

“No, what do you mean no?” you scoffed, trying to sound offended but failing to hide your giggle.

He easily hid his smile. “It’s still too small. It would look awkward on the base, and even more so once we add the head. It needs more snow.”

“Weren’t you the one calling this all a waste of time?” you teased as you started the head.

Without missing a beat he looked at you, “It is. I stand by that. But if you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right.” Finally, he was satisfied with the ball of snow he’d been put in charge of, and carefully placed it on the base. 

You giggled softly, “That’s such a dad thing to say.”

“It’s just how things should be done.” He shrugged, “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth putting the effort into doing it right.”

“So you admit this is worth doing?”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

“But ya kinda did,” you pointed out. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. And you’re trying to build this snowman right, so therefore – it’s worth doing.”

Wesker took the time to think of his next words carefully. He couldn’t just say outright it was worth doing because it made you happy. Because these small moments of connection built a trust between you. One he would inevitably betray one day. 

There was that horrible tight feeling in his chest again. The one he only got when he thought about how he would have to hurt you in the future. He pressed forward, “Somethings, as frivolous as they are, can be worth doing for the greater impact they have.” You nodded sagely at his words, as if you understood perfectly. Which, was genuinely shocking because even he wasn’t entirely sure what the fuck he just said. 

Finally, you put the head on the snowman. “Well! What do you think?” You smiled, making passionate jazz hands at the snowy creation the two of you had made.

He cocked his head to the side. “Something’s missing.”

You nodded. “Yeah, we’re missing a face.”

“What do you normally use for a face?”

You shrugged, “Traditionally, kids used coal and a carrot for the face. Sticks for the arms, maybe a scarf, you get it. You’ve seen Frosty the Snowman.”

He hadn’t, but that was a battle for a different day. “Seems like a waste of a carrot. And we don’t have any coal.”

You nodded again. “Yeah, sadly. Guess our little guy will just have to remain faceless.”

No, that wasn’t good enough. Not for Wesker. If he was going to make anything, it was going to be perfect. He’d accept nothing less. He quickly looked around, searching for a suitable substitute for coal. He quickly spotted what the RPD once called a garden that was now mostly filled with snow covered rocks and made his way there. You picked up on his thought process and went to go pull sticks off of a nearby tree for the arms. 

“Hey, I found a pine cone!” You called to him as you returned.

“Excellent, we’ll use it for the nose.” He replied as you reconvened at the snowman. The two of you argued briefly about the facial expression – you insisting the snowman should be happy and him arguing it should be miserable because who wouldn’t be miserable stuck out in the snow? You countered with a snowman wouldn’t, because he’s literally made of snow and probably can’t feel cold. You won the argument. This time. 

You assembled the final touches together, then stepped back to look at your handiwork. He smiled smugly, placing his hand on your lower back to hold you closer. “Not bad for a rookie.” He said, looking at you.

You smiled back at him. “Not at all,” you said as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was the closest the two of you had ever been to each other at that point. And the closest Wesker had been to anyone in a long time. It should have felt wrong, the way it tended to when he made contact with others. Instead, it felt comfortable. Natural. Like you were always meant to be right there on his shoulder.

He looked down at you resting on him. At your snow bitten cheeks and soft, content smile. You weren’t scared, or even nervous. You weren't going out of your way to impress him, or try to demean him for an ego boost. You weren’t looking at him with unrealistic expectations he’d still manage to reach, only to remain unsatisfied with him. You were just there. Content, and smiling in his arms, happy to be with him.

You looked ethereal in the soft moonlight, the streetlights of the city encasing you in a halo. He was suddenly overtaken with the overwhelming desire to kiss you. To take you home and hold you forever. And met with the blood cooling realization that he was more than just attached to you. He was… infatuated with you. He refused to use the L word for this.

He couldn’t do that to himself. He moved away from you, a sudden movement that caught your attention. His heart sank looking at your wide questioning eyes. “Thank you, for the experience Soldier.”

You smirked, noting that he didn’t call you rookie. “Thank you for indulging me Captain.”

He nodded and patted your shoulder. “It’s late. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” you confirmed. The two of you lingered for a second longer, the cold silence loud with everything the two of you wanted to say. He slowly slid his hand off your shoulder, and the two of you went your separate ways.

He spiraled for a good two hours when he got home. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. How natural it was to talk to you, how nice you felt in his arms, how breathtaking you looked even covered in snow. He dreamt of you that night, and when he woke up he could still feel the warmth of your lips pressed against his. He had to take a cold shower to get his head together. 

He had never felt like this before. His entire life he was too focused on other things for crushes. On being the best student, on graduating early and getting his doctorate, on researching the virus, on surviving. He’d had lovers, sure. But he never felt anything for them, aside from sometimes lust. He never felt tight in his chest, he never dreamed of them, never in a hundred years would have entertained the thought of building a fucking snowman with them. 

What the hell did you do to him? 

He spent the next eight months obsessing over you. Meticulously observing you like he would any other specimen. He found out how you managed your workflow, the gun you preferred to use at target practice, who you got along with at the RPD and who you only tolerated, how you took your coffee in the morning. 

He noticed all the small details. He noticed the way you chewed on your lower lip when concentrating, what kind of jokes made you laugh the loudest, the way your eyes crinkled when you were genuinely smiling. He noticed that you didn’t brush his hand away when he rested it on you, unlike how you did when Brad did the same thing. How you also went out of your way to be around him, and that you were always the first to act when he gave an order. 

He knew he shouldn’t do this to himself. He knew that he should have taken a massive step back and kept your relationship strictly professional. No more late night smoke breaks, or easy conversations in the break room. If he really wanted to do himself a favor he should have found a reason to fire you, or at least have you removed from the S.T.A.R.S team. 

He never tried to do any of that, because for the first time in his life he was scared he wouldn’t be able to do something. And where did that get him?

Here. Staring at the sinking ship that was Umbrella, and knowing he needed to get off before he was dragged down with it. He needed to send the S.T.A.R.S team to the Spencer Mansion to get the combat data he needed so he could do just that. The issue was, that meant the team was probably going to die. A sacrifice he thought he was willing to make. And he was, before you happened. Now the thought of sending you into that made his jaw clench. As brilliant as he was, he couldn’t think of a way to keep you out of the situation. 

Send you home? That would never work, Bravo team was in danger. You would never just sit idly at home while your team was in trouble – an annoyingly admirable trait of yours. Order you to keep watch at the office? Nope, that wouldn’t work either. That would be the first place Umbrella went when they realized he had gone rogue. So where did that leave him? 

Sending you into the mansion. But, maybe you didn’t have to die. You were just as capable as any other member of the team- if not more. As long as he could keep you alive until it was time for the mansion to go up in smoke, he knew he could get you out of there- and come out looking like the hero in the process. 

He didn’t have time to come up with a definitive plan, this was going to have to do. As unorganized as it was, he was confident it would work. It had to work.

He didn’t know what he’d do if it didn’t.

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

Bellamy Blake - Arkadia

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ bellamy was always known to be aggressive, thinking more with his heart than his head, causing his decisions to be rash and impulsive, thus leading to the massacre of the Grounder army. ever since then, he's been different, but you don't give up on him. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: sfw, angst, fluff at the end, mentions of death

"They're back! Open the gate!" I shout from my guard post, now descending the ladder and catching up with the rover carrying my friends.

Despite everyone's disapproval, it had only been a few hours since Pike gave the order to slaughter the Grounder army sent to help us. I disagreed with his choices but I also didn't dare try and stop him.

Bellamy became one of Pike's pawns, I feared for his wellbeing. He isn't the same Bellamy who rescued his people from Mount Weather or the Bellamy who stuck up for me when we first landed. It had sucked seeing him go in this direction.

Bellamy was lost, and he needed Pike, he needed a reason to be angry, he needed a reason to forgive himself for pulling the lever with Clarke. And I'd be there for him, just like he was there for me.

Walking up to the vehicle I spotted Bellamy handing his gun to Miller, the aura around everyone seemed gloomy and regret-filled- everyone except Pike; who took pride in what he did.

"Drinks on me!" I heard Pike yell, a wide smile present on his face. Everyone cheered, Bellamy included; the guilt seeming to pass in seconds.

"Hey Bell," I greeted with a mini smile, grabbing his attention away from Pike.

My smile was returned by the boy in front of me, "Hey, you held down the fort alright?"

I giggled, memories from hours ago returning to me. Bellamy had asked me to keep everyone in place for him. Not that my authority would count or that people would listen to me, but I liked how he trusted me.

"Yeah, everyone bowed down to me. You should've seen it," Bellamy laughed despite the shitty joke, it was something he'd always do. I could never tell if it was out of politeness or shitty humor but to save my own ego id like to think it was because he found me hilarious.

He had a distinctive, infectious laugh you could hear across a crowded room ten years later and know it was him, a laugh that could evaporate tension within seconds. His eyes would crinkle and his brown orbs illuminated with stars, something you'd only notice if you stared deep enough.

I only snapped out of my thoughts when I realized I was staring like a creep.

"Bell, uh, you okay though?" I raised an eyebrow, worry evident in my tone.

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow, almost as if he took offense by my question.

"I'm fine,"

"You don't look fine,"

"What would you know about how I feel," Bellamy's words were harsh, coming from a place full of raw emotions left unhealed.

"Because, bell! You're covered in blood that isn't even yours! You just massacred an army of Grounders sent to help us!"I argued, my hands talking along with me, trying to express the intensity.

Bellamy scoffed at me, shaking his head in disbelief at my words, "I did this for my people, I protected us," His finger pointed towards me, "You should be more grateful,"

I couldn't believe the words spewing from his mouth, I told myself I'd be there for him, to support him through these agonizing times but I didn't even recognize him at that moment. It was like I was talking to a completely different person.

I understand being lost, I understand needing all this to make sense, or at least I thought I did.

I uttered, "I don't even recognize you anymore," The anger diminished from my body, being replaced by a sense of an overwhelming feeling of sorrow.

"Yeah, well, I can say the same for you," His voice wavered, "The girl I knew would've been on my side,"

It felt like my world was breaking into a million pieces just from a few words.

Bellamy turned around and headed for the bar leaving me by the rover with my tears, too shocked to do anything other than cry.

I stood and waited, waited for him to turn around, waited for him to apologize, say he didn't mean any of it and that he wasn't okay.

But he never did.

He didn't say anything that entire day, he instead spent it drinking and partying with Pike and their cult.

I like to think of it as a cult, it gives me reassurance that this is just temporary and that he will soon accept the fact he can't change the past. But one can only hope.

Slipping into my jeans I prepared myself for today, I knew it was going to be a long one. I had been paired up with Bellamy to go on a hunt, to take a rover, and to check all the traps we'd set up.

Grabbing my backpack I tossed stuff in that we might need. A Mount Weather medkit, my mini iPod, rope, rations, and a flask. My iPod was my favorite thing, maybe it would make the ride less awkward as well.

Leaving the room I shared with Raven I saw Bellamy leaving his room at the same time. We made quick eye contact before continuing our way to the vehicles. Bellamy got there much quicker due to his bigger strides, seemingly trying to avoid conversation with me.

Well... there goes that.

Opening the passenger side door I placed my bag near the bottom of the seat and climbed it, dusting off my hands after shutting the door. Taking a peek into the side view mirror I saw Bellamy placing two rifles into the back of the car, his brows furrowed.

A few minutes passed before Bellamy got into the driver's seat, his scent filling the car in a good way. He made no move to look or speak to me, simply starting the car and pulling out, beginning our drive.

We made it passed the gate when I decided to hook up my iPod to the AUX cord, gaining Bellamy's attention.

it didn't take long for the rover to be full of sound, the song currently playing was our favorite.

I hummed along to the tune of 'Apocalypse' by Cigarettes After Sex. Bellamy started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and bobbing his head a few times as well. Only now did I realize how well the lyrics represented our friendship.

It took us until the end of the song to get to the first trap, pausing my iPod I grabbed my bag and hopped out, putting it on and closing the door, once again dusting off my hands. These cars really need to be washed.

Walking to the front of the vehicle I was met with Bellamy pulling out a map.

"Well be on foot from here," He said, eyes focused on the map showing where the animal traps were.

"So he speaks," I teased, walking to the back to pull out the rifles.

"Let's just get this over with," Bellamy reached for a rifle, which I gave. I decided not to reply and just leave it at that, not wanting to anger him further.

After about a 3-minute walk we made it to the first trap, which had caught a... stick. I giggled at this and Bellamy sent me a weird look before resetting the trap and taking the map out once again.

"Lighten up, bell," I said, following his lead.

Bellamy sighed, clearing the path from some straying branches. "I'll lighten up when I know my people have food," His voice showed no sign of emotion, a signal I could pester more.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why'd you come along? You could've rejected Pike's offer," He snapped back, avoiding the question.

"I came along for you, Bellamy, I care about you,"

Bellamy stopped walking and turned around to face me, glaring into my eyes. "Why aren't you scared of me?" He stepped closer to me, now looking down at me, "I'm scary, a murderer,"

His words had no effect on me.

"Scary? My god, you're divine,"

We were mere inches away now, and his glare seemed to shift to one of longing like he'd been waiting to hear someone say those words.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat when he abruptly hugged me tightly as if I could float away at any moment, his gun dropping to the dirt below.

I wrapped my arms around him, softly rubbing his back as he began crying into my shoulder. It was a rare time he cried, at least in front of me.

"It'll be okay," I soothed, "I'm not going anywhere,"

We stood like that for a while, in each other's embrace, soaking in the moment.

Bellamy was the first to pull away, wiping his cheeks and finally looking at me. At that moment I saw the stars I'd grown to love in his eyes, I knew he needed me just as much as I needed him. I knew I loved him, loved him more than a friend, I wanted to be there for him at his lowest and at his best, I wanted to be someone he could depend on, and be vulnerable with.

"I love you, bell," It was like my mouth had a mind of its own, the words found their way out unrestrained.

A big smile appeared on his face, "You and me, forever, okay?"

"Alright," I nodded, a goofy grin mirroring on my face as well.

The Bellamy I'd grown to love was back.

My Bellamy.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[fairydares]

loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.