#do i care only about myself? pretty much except for rich

[psychoticwillgraham]

i’m supposed to be happy down here rn, but I’m not. I feel so homesick. not for my hometown, no. but for Rich and the boys at the shop. Rich especially needs me rn bc he just got outed and lost of all his business contacts so now he has absolutely no money coming in except for his disability payments. he didn’t even call me once during this ordeal. when I asked him why last night, he said that he didn’t wanna bother me bc I’m supposed to be on vacation and chilling and didn’t want me to worry about him. I can’t be mad bc I’d do the same thing honestly.

down here, everything seems so foreign to me. like I just stick out like a sore thumb. but nobody here knows me and I can truly be myself without judgement or preconceived notions ppl have about me. well, not really bc it’s dangerous for trans ppl down here. despite my life being shit back home, I miss it. I rlly do. and I’ve nearly drank about five different times and the rally (the big stressor) isn’t until Thursday. i’m terrified that I’ll relapse soon if I stay here, and if I do, mom and sis will scream and scream at me saying that I’ve disappointed grandma and am spitting on her memory by going back to the very thing that she fought so hard to help me beat back.

i’m just. Sad. and I feel empty inside. so very empty.

[ch3rryflav0ur]

Just give me the worst and I give you the worst part of me.

Sunghoon is tired of you, tired of seeing you waste your feelings on assholes and be a whore to every man around you who pays you any attention, to everyone…except your friend's little brother.

N/A: I didn't know what titleput on this shot(?) hahah, so I started listening to my Spotify playlist and heard this song and boom SO JUST GIVE ME WORST, I GIVE YOU THE WORST PART OF ME (I love this song 😭💗)

Minors dni: if you like it, please reblog it or let me know in the comments

Pairing: MeanSunghoon! x afab reader

tw: unprotected sex, deepthroat, hate sex,kinda non-con lmao, younger brother´s friend, taesan fron bnd is a dick, wonbin from riize is a dick too, anal sex, choking,

"You should said hi to that girl at least" I told him appearing from behind making Sunghoon got scared at my voice while his eyes were laid on that pretty blonde girl from his window.

"stop doing that" He replied looking at me somewhat annoyed as if I had caught him doing something really bad.

"doing what?" I replied teasing him, my hands touching his cheeks like I used to do when he was little but he only pushed my hands away, I snorted.

"Don't you have to go suck any cock?" He told me smiling to the side

"Grow up!" I replied, rolling my eyes at his sarcastic comment. "Don't be a whore"

"Then stop bothering me" he replied, pushing me away gently "or at least help me" before letting go he grabbed my wrist "I want that girl to pay attention to me, you owe me one for that time when I covered for you when you ran away at night with that loser, my sister didn't know you miss half of her birthday just because you want it some dick"

"Hey! I told you that was a misunderstanding, I went with him to get her birthday cake" I defend myself. Did I fuck with him? Yes but did I also buy her birthday cake? also true. "I know your neighbor, she is kinda dumb" I replied sitting on his bed, adjusting my skirt, watching him try to decipher my words while I lay down on his bed not caring that my skirt may rolled up a lil bit showing some tan skin, since today i'm seeing Taesan later, I put some more coconut lotion on my body

"well she is like you then" He joked.

"Do you want her to like you or hate you?" I sighed. "His ex was Park Jongseong, such a cute loverboy" I looked at him "not like you"

"is that your type? he asked me "boring rich kids?"

"not even close" I replied.

Sunghoon thought about Jay Park and his huge list of lovers, he knew him from afar, they shared common friends but he wasn't the kind of person he wanted around him, he didn't like people who was too much kindly with everyone, something seems off about him.

"I am very romantic" he said slowly looking at that blondie, yeah she was hot.

"sure" I said sarcastically sitting up straight, resting my hands on the corner of his bed about to get up and leave.

Sunghoon approached the bed nonchalant in front of me, leaning slowly as my body involuntarily moved back, I swallowed hard, my eyes looking at his nervously but I quickly looked down when I felt his big hands pull a lil bit down my skirt, covering my thights "just because I've never been nice to you doesn't mean I'm not" his hands stayed on my thighs for a short period of time, I was about to stand up but his hands returned this time to each side of the resting on the mattress. "You would be surprised how good I am with sweet girls" His voice was deeper and he emphasized the sixth word.

"ew" I pushed him.

(...)

"is she your girlfriend?" One of the boys ask Taesan as he keep talking about his last hook up, sunghoon wanted to shut his mouth honestly, he was boring trying to kill some time as he smoke his fourth cigar not paying attention to the conversation.

"I'd never have a girlfriend like her" he said curtly, thinking about it "I just like the way she can let me beat up the real thing raw, just say a few nice things and she already bended over my dick"

It was all laughter until that idiot show up some photos that he took of her topless, big titties showing up.

"Isn't that...?" Jake said asking Sunghoon. "Nah, not cool bro" Jake said to Taesan "she's my friend"

"I fuck her last year" wonbin said as he look at the pictures on Taesan's phone. "I kinda missed those huge boobs tho...wait, Is that why you came later today than the others?"

"yeah, sorry men but I couldn't let that pussy go" Taesan said tipsy and most of the guys laught at his lame joke. Sunghoon really tried not to look at the damn phone, he really tried.

"Sunghoon where are you g-?"Jake asked.

Everyone started talking out over the photos while Sunghoon chung up on that shot of vodka, now already drunk enought (or he though) full of emotions that ran all over his body...envy, anger, rage, contempt, disgust...and all these emotions transformed into something impulsive when he saw himself punching the boy in the face without thinking twice, blood on his knuckles as taesan's nose was bleeding and a lot of questions were going through his head.

He didn't know why he had done it exactly, or so he wanted to believe as he thought about that stupid girl.

What Sunghoon didn't realize was when Taesan stood up and hit him back.

fuck, that hurts.

"what the fuck is your problem?" the bleeding boy said.

(...)

"fuck off" sunghoon sight looking at her in front of his door.

"I need your laptop, your sister took mine by accident and...

"Not my problem" He responded by trying to close the door in my face. "Why are you still here if she's not here? I see you more often than my sister in my own house." he sighed

"it's not my fault that you got a black eye and now you're in a bad mood" I whispered while the door was still half open about to return to his sister's room, but then I heard the sound of the shower, inside my head I thought it would be a good idea to borrow his computer, it would take less than ten minutes to look up information about the latest details of my homework.

With some fear I entered Sunghoon's room and observed my target on top of his desk, very sporty chic room, everything seems very tidy and clean.

Like him.

His laptop was almost closed, I opened it a little to realize what he was seeing, apparently Sunghoon likes shopping online, a lot of Sneakers, chains and rings and...another tab was open next to it, curiosity was stronger and I clicked on the new one, my eyes widened as I read the following titles searched on a porn site: gangbang, hardcore anal, creampie, hentai, latinas, deepthroat... all of them had the word non con in front of them and most of the videos were starring foreign women being penetrated strongly almost as if they were being raped, I felt the blood rise to my cheeks as I heard the woman moaning, begging to stop. It was actually a dark fantasy I thought I shared alone, but apparently I'm not the only one.

"what the fuck are you doing?" He slammed the lid of the laptop shut, his hands still had drops of water on them and I turned my face to see him with wet hair, no shirt and a towel around his waist in front of me, I sat up straight and swallowed hard as I noticed his brow furrow, clearly annoyed at seeing me touching his things. "You're a fucking pain, you know?" His voice was thick, the only time I'd seen him angry was on New Years when he had a fight with Taesan for letting me drink so much, well and last week when he showed up at the front door with a bloody nose and a swollen eye, he wouldn't tell us what happened and his sister and I cleaned his wounds before his parents came.

"Everyone watch porn, it's normal-

"It's not that and you know it fucking well" His tone of voice was manly, I noticed how the drops of water were still sliding down his abdomen, Sunghoon deep down scared me a little bit, we never had much of a relationship, he doesn't make any effort to talk to me, to get to know me, he avoided me or even talking to me at university.

"I'm sorry ,I didn't mean to look" I tried to justify myself and he just let out a mocking laugh, running his hands through his hair.

"shut up" His hands grabbed my wrists violently causing me to lose my balance, falling to the ground on my knees, I complained out loud, he sat on his bed, legs spread out, his hands still gripping me, pulling me roughly closer. "If you're going to open your pretty mouth to apologize, you might as well use it to suck my dick" His other hand grabbed the part where the towel was attached to his waist "wanna hear how fucking stupid you sound gagging around my cook" He pulled the towel aside, revealing his cock in front of my face, I gulped as he touched himself while looking at me in that state. "it's not my fault that you got a black eye and now you're in a bad mood" He said imitating my tone of voice in a mocking way and I froze, his hand leave my wrist to grab my hair bringing my face closer to his throbbing cock, feeling him hitting me with it in a vulgar way, it was humiliating but at the same time I felt an unbearable heat underneath. My lips brushed the head and I must be out my mind cause I began to lick it, wrapping my plump lips around it slowly "is this how you suck Taesan off?" I didn't have time to respond when both off his hands pushed my head, making me gag against his dick, taking my breath away with his movements, grotesque sounds were heard, I closed my eyes squeezing them tightly noticing how tears were appearing at the edge of my eyes, I hit his thighs looking for some reaction, desperate for air, his hands pulled me away from his member and I took a deep breath.

"I can't Breath-" I tried to talk while holding onto his thighs, he just smiled, enjoying seeing me like that, with saliva dripping down my chin, messy hair and watering eyes.

He caressed my cheek, patting me, fucking my throat raw again, repetitive movements faster and faster, hearing how his breathing was thicker and his moans were loud, he was a vocal man. "I need to fuck you right now" He said through his teeth, letting go of me, I could grab my things and leave, but reality hit me when he throw me to his bed. "Take off your shirt, let me see those tits" I embarrassedly took off the black jersey I was wearing, revealing that I wasn't wearing a bra, his hands kneaded both, put them together, played with them in the most shameless way "Wonbin was right" he mumble while his fingers squeezed my nipples hard.

"It hur-" I bite my lips.

"Fuck, I can't wait to see them bouncing on my face" He said letting them adjust to their original form. His hands went straight to my underwear, desperate to tear off that piece of fabric, and in the blink of an eye my panties were on the floor, his arms spread my legs widely, revealing my cunt, dessert for him.

He brought his body closer almost automatically, my hands were shaking, maybe if I kicked him or punch him he stop. I tried to lift my leg a little higher, but his arm just held it tight. "Stay still"

He handled my body as he wanted, he took his member and positioned it entering with a thrust, I wanted to scream in pain but his hands covered my mouth, his movements were abrupt, with each thrust I felt my tits move to the rhythm of his penetrations, It hurt so much every time he was so deep inside me. "Stop It h-hurts" I tried to talk to him, he laughed and continued moving inside me while I felt one of his fingers trying to get into my ass "What are you doi- no no" I tried to pull his hand away but he was so much stronger.

"Keep complaining and you'll only make me cum faster" He said inches from my face, eyes killing me, I felt him insert his index finger from behind, it was a strange, unknown sensation, I was uncomfortably horny. "You fuck those idiots and you're still so tight" I know exactly who he was referring to but the size of his cock inside me had me completely blinded, so much so that I didn't feel a second finger being inserted into my ass, I complained loudly almost crying . "Since you checked my porn history I guess you know I love fucking dumb whores like you, right?" His thrusts were faster, he was aggressively abusing my pussy, his hand was still covering me while the other removed his fingers from my butt. In one movement he takes my hips and with an inhuman rhythm he puts me on top of him "Ride me like you mean it"

I moaned pathetically loudly as I felt the new position, it was deeper, I felt him even deeper, inside my guts almost, his hands were still glued to my hips waiting for some reaction. I moved my hips, letting my hands rest on his chest, bouncing against his crotch in an almost possessed way, his hands helping guiding me, he turned me around, my feet were now resting on his knees, I was tired. He held me with both arms, holding me tight, feeling his balls hitting my clitoris with each thrust, Sunghoon at this point looked like a bull with so much stamina built up, most of the guys I were with didn't last even half as long, instead there was Sunghoon fucking me like an animal in heat.

"Ah-hmh! harder!" I moaned feeling dirty as my back was against his chest, his hands grabbed my waist and pushed me to the bed, his body still attached to mine crushing me, unbridled force made my entire body tremble, his hands found their way to my neck and squeezing lightly I burst into tears while I came strongly, creaming his fat cock, I felt Sunghoon talking to me but honestly I was too busy thinking about nothing, mind blank and throbbing wet pussy around cock.

"I knew you like it hard" he whimper slowing down the pace of his thrusts, almost stopping. His fingers caressed my ass, opening it while he continued pushing his body against mine now painfully slowly, he grabbed my hands and made me keep my buttocks open, took his cock out of me, I felt empty. "now comes my favorite part" he licked his lips "keep them open babe or I will make you cry" he took his hard wet cock covered in my juices and brought it to the rim of my ass, it scared me "did they make you cum too?" he ask moaning as he put his tip in the hole, exerting pressure, feeling how my butt slowly sucked his mushroom tip,

"No-t-they dont!" I answered being honest, no guy had bothered to read my body in bed, what I liked or made me horny, everyone always messed with me, lasted at most fifteen minutes and then they started checking their phone while lying down my side showing me some lame stupid tiktoks. "Oh my God!" I squeezed the flesh of my ass, closed my legs squeezing my thighs, muffling a scream against the sheets. It burns. Eyes wide open as I can feel how my ass was stretched by his big cook, feeling him smirking behind me, enjoying my whimpers. He sank half of his length into me, my nails dug into my flesh as I heard him moan, his movements were slow for thirty seconds, then he didn't care about my sobs. "slow-d-down h-hoon!"

Sunghoon was blinded by the way your ass sucked his cock every time he rammed you against his duvet, waiting for you to take your face out of his pillow, but when he saw that you didn't, all he had to do was pull your hair to hear you moan like the whore everyone he knew said you were. "Do you also let everyone fuck your ass or have I been the privileged one?" you felt it so deep inside, pumping your insides, transforming pain into pure pleasure, one you never thought you would like.

"N-no-o-only you!" I sobbed, noticing that hot sensation again, not being able to take it anymore, I released my hands from my butt to support myself better on the bed, my moans and the collision between his pelvis and my butt could be heard throughout his bedroom. "fuck me-fu-cking harder hoon!"

"who is better?" a thrust "me or that loser?" He asked me between moans

"you are so-so much better-than-them!" That fucking psycho smiles proud at himself as his movements did not stop at all, spanking me with each thrust, every time I felt the burning I squeezed something that I could not feel, he was edging me, making my butt move alone against him, seeming desperate for his cum.

And I was.

"keep bouncing that ass and I will give you my babies" He said between his teeth, although he very well knew that he was about to finish, he was full of it even in these moments. It didn't take long for him to slamming me down, given me a few last thrusts before he sank into me completely. I moaned his name so many times and in so many ways that later I would be embarrassed to see his face. The sensation was very overwhelming, heavy, thick, hot, slippery between my buttocks.

"fuck, look at you" Sunghoon said admiring me from above.

Ruined.

I was shaking between his sheets with heavy breathing trying to compose myself, after he came inside my ass I felt the bed lighten so I assumed he got out of bed, I tried to get up but I felt something wet between my legs, a towel.

"you bleed a little" he clean me with that wet towel feeling guilty, I avoided looking at him, letting him do something at least and then starting to get dressed.

"my skirt is stained" I complained in silence while I was dressing "I'm not going to go out like that, leave me some pants" I said, opening his closet, taking some black pants and locking myself in the bathroom.

I wiped my face thinking about how all this had happened, how I had just been fucked by Sunghoon. I tried to calm myself wiping off my make up with some water and hiding my body with his big clothes.

knock knock knock

I didn't response as if sunghoon obviously didn't know that I was in his bathroom keeping silent waiting for maybe he would leave.

wrong

"Why do you let these guys do whatever they want with you?" I heard him through the door. "You could do better, but you end up dating only assholes"

"What do you mean?" i asked back

"people talk, you know?" He replaid me "You look pretty sucking dick tho" He whispered "Use your pretty head and think" I grabbed the door handle opening it with the intention of starting a fight, the last thing I wanted at this moment was to have this type of conversation with him.

Sunghoon was leaning against the wall next to the door, he had also dressed up and looked annoyingly nice. "How can you trust someone like him?" he asked me again, looking into my eyes, trying to order his words, opening and closing his mouth wanting to say something.

"what are you talking abo-

"when you have me".

[scalamore]

I guess I’m just really curious about the first TL Rupert. So in the manwha (I haven’t fully read the novel, only so much I could translate to understand), every time Lari remembers her first life, she always says that Rupert never spoke to her and barely made eye contact even during her trial. He also wasn’t fully in front of her when she was sent to the guillotine, and I guess through out of body says he doesn’t even look happy about her dying.

So I guess my question is: why did Rupert prolong her death so much? Why did he just leave her? In prison for months after he killed her whole family (no one knew her origins except a select few that are already dead), did he feel bad, or maybe he saw her as pitiful because she was just an innocent victim in the situation, or maybe I’m just thinking too much into it?

OOh i love discussing TL1 Rupert. Because we don't have much information about him at all, and Rupert and Lari's POV are just so contradictory. What I mean is Lari initially thought he was a psycho tyrant murderer, but then later thinks he's just a misunderstood guy she scapegoated, while we find out in S4 of the manhwa, that Rupert totally think it's 100% possible for him to be a psycho tyrant murderer :'D Short answer: I agree with all your thoughts! ^^ Long answer: Anyways yes, in TL1 Rupert and Lari didn't know each other at all, were in completely different social circles, and only exchanged like 2 sentences of formal greetings at her debutante. The main idea being they didn't know each other at all, and whatever opinion Lari had of him was her own conclusions about his character (that ironically, turned out to be right on the dot).

What I found interesting, was how she described him during the trial: He was sitting/standing a bit aways, observing her with a stern expression. He didn't seem happy - rather, indifferent. He didn't seemed at all pleased that she was being condemned. He also had an unusual "crooked grin" when they made eye contact, but the interesting part is she describes his "gentle green eyes that didn't match his violent personality"

This manhwa panel when they cross paths again at some point, also shows his overwhelming indifference, when she begs and screams at him yet he continues walking past her:

Here, on the day of her execution Lari imagines after her death - she imagines him being pleased, sneering and laughing at her. Yet the manhwa shows his expression as something more akin to that crooked grin from the trial - as if he felt pity for her and was laughing a "what a poor thing" laugh rather than a "hahaha serves you right" laugh. Hmmm...

Based on these clues from Lari's POV from TL1, and knowing Rupert's current personality (which has been established he's the same person but making different choices), it paints a picture that he's still the same indifferent person as ever, who doesn't care about those not involved in his circle/the people he trusts. He's the type to strike first before he gets hurt, and this is the same: he knew about Lari's origins, and got rid of her before she could become an obstacle. This is further supported by the upcoming Ch 118 when S4 is released: the novel version gives us Rupert's POV on what he thought of when he read Lari's diary detailing him as a psycho tyrant murderer. His response is pretty much "yeah, I can see myself doing that". Her descriptions of him brutally murdering the Empress, Arnulf and Grand Duke? Yup, he agrees he would do that. Executing House Belois for not only treason, but for hiding Akan's princess? Even if she didn't have any drop of actual royal blood, he would get rid of them all? Yup.

Because that was TL2 Rupert's original plan as well.

Recall manhwa chapter 45: Rupert had a hit-list of those around his age he needed to be wary of, and to get rid of some day if they continue to be a threat. He deemed Riche as not important, but Lari and Lehan were particularly troublesome. It's mentioned quite a few times, and finally directly in the next season, that Rupert believes he would have surely been such a murderous tyrant in TL2 if he had not met Lari. He could not refute the fact that "TL1 Rupert" wasn't him, because they shared the same methods/plans/thought process, and the only difference is because he knew Lari and was influenced by her in this timeline.

SO, going back to your question anon:

After RupeLali reunite, Rupert gives us a bit more of his POV regarding TL1: He admits that yes, he knows his own cruelty better than anyone, and to protect his throne he'll do ANYTHING, like completely eliminating his enemies.... but... he thinks MAYBE he had SOME hesitation too? I can't find the exact passage, but I'm fairly sure TL1 Rupert also knew that Lari was ignorant about the whole thing, but still ended up killing her. But in any case, I agree with your thought process. I believe House Belois was captured and killed quickly in March, while she was allowed to live outside at the manor until it was burned down and she was arrested soon after, and then executed in August. A reasonable conclusion is because TL1 Rupert felt some hesitation in killing an innocent, ignorant Lari. She's done nothing to warrant death, except by simply existing. That's why the trial was rigged: She was sentenced not only to death for being associated with House Belois's treason (which they were caught before they actually implemented it so it would make sense why it would be so hard to believe) as well as random excuses like "failing to act like a noble".

Yup look at that guilty judge making stuff up about her to sentence her to the guillotine >:( Again, if we take TL2 Rupert's character and project it onto TL1 Rupert, it's assumed he still has the basic personality trait of "not being bothered to harass, bother, or hurt others, because he doesn't care about them at all. He is not violent unless he's hurt first and retaliates." This also suggests that he might have delayed judgement on Lari because she's innocent, and he's actively punishing her... which would leave a bad taste in his mouth. But after thinking and pondering, he eventually makes his decision: he's a very careful guy, and he will prioritize his life/safety over the potential that Lari can somehow strike back and steal the throne back from him. HIS LIFE GOAL is the throne. Even if she doesn't know her own origins, and no one else knows as House Belois is gone, just the fact she has the blood of Akan is a threat enough, and he will get rid of her. Readers might also ask: Why doesn't TL1 Rupert just marry Lari to obtain legitimacy of the throne?

Simple answer: He would rather be alone than marry someone he doesn't trust. Lari is a nobody to him, so therefore she is out of the question. If anything, her legitimate bloodline is a threat to him, so she should be eliminated.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. Hi! I’m looking for a fic I read on AO3, I don’t remember anything really more than that there was some kind of big entity in a town which noone but Wei Ying could see? The other character’s would be like ”nothing is wrong with this town :-)”. Thankful for help! Have a nice day and thank you for your work <3

#1, can u ask the requestor is Wei ying lived at the edge of the woods/forest ??

FOUND! Not What We May Be by brooklinegirl (E, 29k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Bedsharing, casefic, Hurt/Comfort) though its not only wwx who sees it. Great fic.

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2. Hello! I'm trying to find a fic where LWJ was cursed/blessed by his mom with a truth spell for LWJ's safety? It's not really the typical, your average "I speak the truth" one, but it's how LWJ can hear lies in the form of sounds that only he can hear! If i remember correctly, LXC knows about it and asked NMJ (blunt truths) and NHS (white lies) to help him control it. There's also scenes where he's stumped because WWX almost always speak the truth (thus making no lie detector sound for LWJ — which boggles him so much because no one always speak the whole truths even in CR — except the couple of times when he was speaking about his time in Lotus Pier). Thank you! (I'm pretty sure this is a fic by @i-like-plan-m but I can't remember the name rn 😅 - Mod C)

FOUND! in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 48k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad, WIP) this one perhaps?

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3. hi i’ve been looking for a fic that i read a while ago but can’t remember what it’s called. Basically WWX is hired by LWJ for company/sex and he’s kinda like a sugar baby and stays at his house a lot. LWJ is a rich lan and both end up having feelings for eachother but bc LWJ started basically as WWXs client of sorts there’s some confusion. I remember at one point WWX gets sick and lets LWJ come to his house which he usually wouldn’t do with past clients and LWJ helps him shower and there’s a line where he talks abt the intimacy of letting LWJ wash his crotch (pretty sure he lives w wen qing) Then i think LWJ takes WWX to like new york or something on a work trip

these were the only things i could remember lol @st3wartladle​

FOUND? The Sugar Daddy AU Series by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 106k, wangxian, modern, sugar daddy, sex work, dom/sub, aftercare, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, bondage, boundary setting, relationship negotiation) specifically the first part A Sure Thing

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4. Hi! For the fic finder, two fics I enjoyed but apparently failed to bookmark, and now cannot find back...

A) Complete, medium length: Lan Zhan steps into the path of Wen Zhuliu coming for Wei Ying, loses his golden core. Afterwards, he tells no one but goes into seclusion. WWX is fine, and eventually comes to visit in Gusu. LWJ is reclusive as he is not a cultivator anymore (so he grows old faster than WWX), but they still build a connection. No solution for the golden core, just dealing with the new facts of life for LWJ, and building back some hope.

B) Similar in vibes, also complete: WWX travels to an alternative universe, where JC died and WWX is somehow the Jiang Sect Leader. He meets LWJ at a conference. The new universes' WWX was not friends with LWJ. LWJ's leg was still broken after the Wen Indoctrination and never healed, so LWJ is wheelchair bound (pushed by Jingyi). WWX builds up a friendship with LWJ but I think in the end he goes back to his own universe. This one sounds like that one fic where the theme was something like 'be careful what you wish for', iirc WWX wanted to see either his parents or JYL alive 🤔 ~Mod L

Any help would be much appreciated! As well as any other dimension travel recs anyone has. Thanks again for this wonderful blog! @vasterthanempires

I found 4A myself! It was love some littler things by shipyrds

4B remains elusive, although the comments so far seem to refer to the same fic. still looking for it!

4A)

FOUND! love some littler things by shipyrds (G, 17k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, LWJ Loses His Golden Core, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Disability)

4B I have read but also cannot recall! Additional details, it was an alternate dimension talisman WWX created, and when he leaves any changes he might have cause are erased but somehow wheelchair!LZ starts an actual friendship with local!WWX? not sure if it was a bonus chapter or an endnote but I recall I was happy that it was a hair ending for both sets...

4B)

FOUND? empty as the sky by incendir (T, 23k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, CSSR & WWX, be careful what you wish for)

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5. Howdy fine folks of the internet! I'm looking for a Twitter thread fic that disappeared from my bookmarks during some twitter turmoil, if any of yall can help. It was a modern au where wwx got kicked out of the Jiang home and stayed in a shed on school property while using the school showers and eating leftovers from the cafeteria overnight, until lqr, lxc, and nmj catch him. It had some really great depictions of panic attacks and I want back. Thanks

FOUND! Where is home? by SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 16k, wangxian, modern, high school au, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced homophobia, coming out, not Jiang family friendly, supportive LQR, good sibling LXC, fluff, angst w happy ending, WIP)

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6. Hi, I'm looking for a fic where lan xichen had harsh realization of his wrong doing by supporting jin guangyao. (If this is actually an Itmf let me know and I will move it - Mod C)

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7. Hi, I've been trying to find this wangxian fic so badly. Like canon divergence lan xichen notices that wei ying likes lan zhan during cloud reases arc and starts convincing his teachers to change their style for him and his ADHD Genius and teach him about his own self worth so as to steal him away from Jiang sect. Like Jiang chan has an argument where Wei Ying finally stands up to him and it's so good. Think its ABO, dont remember. Please help

FOUND? might be 💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) although it's FoxWWX and DragonLans not A/B/O

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8. Hello <3 I'm looking for a modern AU fic where Lan Wangji contracts Mo Xuanyu as a companion for the night but mistakes him for Wei Wuxian in the hotel they would meet up. So they spend the whole night together and the chemistry is off the charts until Mo Xuanyu sends him a message later (or in the morning after, I can't exactly remember) saying that he never showed up. Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian about the misunderstanding and Wei Ying, who was thrilled with his attention, gets pretty hurt and they end things pretty tense. I remember that it's the anniversary of the passing of his mother or her anniversary, and Lan Wangji didn't want to spend it alone. After he explains that to Wei Ying, they try giving their date another chance. That's all I remember for sure that happens, I hope these details are enough!

FOUND! Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)  

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9. I need help on finding a fic. It's about how wei wuxian created his own sect from a past syndicate movements, he transformed it into a merchant/shops/silk road or something similar. He never went with the jiangs or any sects. When he was still on the streets he got betrayed by an "esteemed" cultivator because of false accusations (vendor told the cultivator that he caught wei wuxian stealing from him, but in actuality wei wuxian was at the wrong place at the wrong time), it was another kid that stole a toy from a merchant, if I'm not wrong. He was also a part of an illegal underground fights where he "won the bet" against the strongest fighter. He's also claimed by wen qing to be the killer of a murder because the only one who knows around needles is herself, and she met wei wuxian and taught him the arts of needles. There's also a wei wuxian - xue yang connection by said syndicate because the chang sect was a part of it.

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10. hi! i was wondering if you could help me find this one fanfic that i can't for the love of me remember at all!!!

the details are a bit hazy, but basically burial mounds era something happens that fucks up wei wuxian mentally and physically and he starts dreaming about things in the future,,,, meanwhile the whole jianghu is plunged into chaos with disasters and that one specific bird thing.

i think there was one time wei wuxian did a "no shit serlock!" joke but then said "oh wait, wrong timeline."

FOUND? To Ride A Stygian Tiger by Madyamisam (M, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Angst with a happy ending, BAMF WWX, Dark LWJ, Slow burn, Family Feels, Misunderstandings)

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11. hwoooooo! :D back at it again with the asks, thank you so much for your services to the community!

im looking for a time travel fic for my bff!

it's in Lwj's pov in which he dreams about an older version of him, who tells him to treat wei ying kindly, and how the future lwj's world is completely frozen as a result of his sacrifice in order to safe a different timeline.

Future Lwj gets a happy ending in the last chapter!

FOUND? 💖 Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed T, 29k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, fluff, nostalgia, mild angst w/ happy ending)

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12. hi! i'm looking for a fic where there was quarantine and wangxian went to stay at the family house (it was so big like a mansion or an apartment i don't really remember).

remember a scene where jingyi was having a panic attack (?) and wei ying came to calm him down. they were at the balcony. i think they were adopting jingyi.

i don't know if it is finished or deleted.

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13. hello!! i hope y’all are doing well ☺️ the fic I’m looking for was definitely on ao3 but idk if it got deleted or I just can’t find it again but here’s what I remember

1) Wei wuxian died taking the arrows to save jin zixuan’s life. Initially people celebrated until the (sentient) burial mounds retaliated and destroyed most of the jin sect and people started panicking and trying to bring back wwx (jin zixuan, jin ling, and Jiang yanli all live)

2) parts of Wei wuxian’s diary was scattered amongst the cultivation world and Jin ling buys the pages and develops a sort of parasocial relationship w his dead uncle who he idolizes based on the image he creates of him thru wwx’s writing

3) i think one of the latest updates (it wasn’t finished when I read it) is wwx coming back as Mo xuanyu and running into jin ling and jiang cheng who recognize him.

Im pretty sure the wens are alive as well (not 100% tho). If this rings any bells please let me know - I’ve seriously looked for this for a solid couple of weeks and I loved it a lot 😭 thank you!! 💓

FOUND? To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 18k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds)

FOUND? I shall pay for all your sorrows by MidnightLightHowlite (G, 3k, JZX & WWX, XuanLi, angst with bitter ending)

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14. A fanfic where Wei Wuxian is found by Lan Qiren as he saves him from something and then faints. It’s a modern AU, Lan Qiren takes him to the hospital and later they learn that he has fits and he becomes a teacher at the school. Lan Zhan and he marries later on and adopts Wen Yuan from an orphanage run by Wen Qing and Wen Ning. @hebbbb

FOUND? Against Entropy by Duochanfan (M, 40k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, of an underaged character, Amnesia, Drama, Romance, Family Feels, Hurt WWX, Older JC, Homelessness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective LXC, Supportive LXC, Protective NMJ, Supportive LQR)

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15. Hi I want to ask is there a wangxian fanfiction where lan zhan is a prince and wei wuxian is a huli jing and becomes his consort by forced marriage but instead wei ying is against this loveless marriage and so everytime they sleep it's always hate s£× until he gets preg and gives birth to a yuan and tries his best to give him love until he dies protecting a yuan from a wen attack and that day he realises wangji actually loved him dies and gets reincarnated and tries to fix things @random-online-reader

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16. Hi there! I am looking for a fic that takes place during the war against the wens and mo xuanyu does the self sacrifice to summon wwx who is thought to project himself as his original form, but (SPOILERS) he is immortal and lwj is the reincarnation of his lover. Baoshan Sanren also makes an appearance after the last stand against wen ruohan

FOUND? Old Foreshadows by protos_metazu_ison (M, 15k, WangXian, YLLZ WWX, BAMF WWX, War, Universe Alteration, Sunshot Campaign, Rated For Violence, Timeline What Timeline)

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17. Hello, can you help me find a fic?

Generally, all I remember was that WWX went back to the past (Studying at GusuLan Arc) after dying during the Burial Mound Siege. He was so traumatized over it that he has decided he does not want anything to do with the cultivation world anymore. His personality changed (from cheerful to downright depressed, from lively to soulless) so much that everyone began to notice and wondered what was up.

However, I remember a scene which pushed him to flee Gusu. He was walking and listening as NHS talked and talked trying to get him back to his old personality. They met NMJ on the way. WWX on pilot mode said that he (NMJ) has heart demons and without ado removed the resentful energy lingering inside NMJ. This shocked the Nie brothers, the Twin jades and JC (the latter two having just arrived and witnessed WWX manipulating resentful energy).

WWX obviously panicked, packed his belongings and flees from GusuLan because he thought they would kill him again due to his manipulation of resentful energy.

Please help me find this fic. I've been searching the web for weeks. Sadly, my browser history was disabled at that time and I don't remember the title. @heratheslytherinqueen

FOUND? Possible Works 2 - Numb by Hauntcats (M, 6k, wangxian, angst w happy ending, unhappy WWX, time travel fix-it)

FOUND? Without end by barisan (M, 70k, wangxian, major character death, time travel, suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, depressed WWX, protective LWJ, good uncle LQR, bad parents JFM & YZY, not YZY & JFM & Jiang friendly, implied/referenced child abuse & self harm, BAMF WWX, WIP)

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18. So there was this fic in which wei wuxian modified nei huaisang's fan or something like that so it can be used as a weapon while in CR and also at some point nmj wrote a letter thanking him and asking him what he would like as payment but wwx replied that it was a gift for a friend

I don't think this was a major plot point of the story though. Thanks

FOUND? Eyes Wide Shut by Netrixie (T, 65k, LXC/NMJ, wangxian, canon divergence, no sunshot, everyone lives au, enemies to friends to lovers, identity porn, mistaken identity, misunderstanding, slow burn) when I read that I immediately thought of this fic just bc it sounds so similar, but it's lxc that gives nhs the fan, and nmj gets mad at lxc for it. and also it's nielan. maybe this is what you're looking for?

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19. Hi again! I'm in need of help for finding a fic that I forgot to bookmark AGAIN🥹

How i remember it, It's how WWX died and get "resurrected" as a ghost thing by another character (could be Hua Cheng, could be Luo Binghe idk they definitely wore robes with the color red and black lol). So WWX started chatting with his "savior" and they told him that he can grow powerful by eating other demons in the BM(?) But as he grew powerful, he also shapeshifted as a white tiger for a while because he needs to hunt to maintain his human form, and by doing so he needs a lot of demon meat so he needs to catch food with his tiger form a lot (I'm kinda confusing myself if WWX started as a tiger from beginning or not, but it definitely involves him as a ghost/tiger!)

Other details that I kinda remember: 1) he re-introduced himself to the cultivation world as "Wei Wuqian" or something similar, he thought it was funny 2) nearby people who lived around the place WWX would hunt depicted him as a guardian/god and would gift him some spicy meat as prayers 3) said people would defend him when cultivators were trying to hunt this weirdly nice, babysitting as a secondary job, only likes his meat spicy tiger kitty that they call "evil spirit, dangerous and needs to be gone" 4) I think he has white hair but can change to black, it could be somewhat glowing hair but I'm not sure about this detail 5) LWJ definitely tried the "give big kitty spice and he'll play nice" trick he got from the village people to see if it was a malevolent ghost or not 6) tiger!WWX had been written eating a corpse in the fic at least once

FOUND? Wuqian, the Local God of Yiling by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (M, 77k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character death, canon divergence, angst w/ happy ending, god WWX, Chinese mythology & folklore, pining, temporary character death, WIP)

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20. Hi, I'm looking for the the story I've read before. I think it's about Wuxian are cursed to feel pain each time Jiang Wanyin close to him at Cloud recesses. It's kinda Jiang Wanyin bashing. I think Wei Wuxian took the cursed meant for Lan Wangji.

FOUND? I’ll Take the Path of Thorns by Admiranda (G, 6k, wangxian, cloud recesses study era, curses, not JC friendly, clever WWX, baby wangxian)

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[theantarwitch]

About Comfort Zone and why is wrong used - Long Rant

Lately I been seeing a ton of people talking about the Comfort Zone, about how we can only grow if we step out it and all that, but mostly everyone forget to mention a little detail: The majority of the people have no Comfort Zone.

Let's back to the roots and copy and paste what wikipedia say about it: A comfort zone is a familiar psychological state where people are at ease and (perceive they are) in control of their environment, experiencing low levels of anxiety and stress. Bardwick defines the term as "a behavioral state where a person operates in an anxiety-neutral position." Brené Brown describes it as "Where our uncertainty, scarcity and vulnerability are minimized—where we believe we'll have access to enough love, food, talent, time, admiration. Where we feel we have some control.

So, the basic "rules" of the Comfort Zone says:

A) People must at ease and in basic control of their environment.

B) People are experiencing low levels of anxiety and stress.

C) The uncertainty, scarcity and vulnerability are minimized.

D) With well access to the basic needs (food, water, shelter, health care, hygiene, money, love, education, clothes, sleep, security... Pretty much the 3 basic levels of the Maslow's hierarchy of needs)

So, if you "fail" in some of the 4 basic "rules" of the Comfort Zone, you pretty much didn't have Comfort Zone.

Let's breal up that thing a little...

If you are not at ease (disconfort, anger, pain, sadness, uneasy, worried, etc), you are lacking Comfort Zone.

If you are not control of your environment (toxic/ traumatic house, abusive relationship, under manipulation, migration, homeless, disabled, etc), you are lacking Comfort Zone.

If you are experiencing high levels of anxiety and stress (pathologically high, unhealthy levels of it, panic attacks, floating anxiety, depression, PTSD, mostly all the mental illnesses), you are lacking Comfort Zone.

If you are uncertain, in scarcity and vulnerability (be part of a minority, experience racism, bullying, LGTBQIA+phobia, fatphobia, etc) and lacking some of the basic human needs, you are lacking Comfort Zone.

And if you are experiencing ALL OF THAT, you have NO Comfort Zone.

Now, let's have in mind the kind of world we are living currently... Many of us didn't have not even the basic level of the damn Maslow's pyramid and we have a "bingo" of a lack of all the 4 basic rules.. and the huge majority at least lack one of them... Why keep pushing about the Comfort Zone?

As a start, the main objetive of the Comfort Zone is self growth, things that are over the two basic layers of the damn pyramid. You NEED to have you BASIC NEEDS satisfied to focus in self growth. I'm not saying that you CAN'T pursue self growth if you are lacking them, but trully, your energy and mind have more urgent things to attend...

Example, myself. I lack of money and health care, I struggle with afford food and basic bills, I'm disabled and VERY neurodivergent, I suffer of Chronic Clinical Depression and Chronic Pain (with no meds and treatment because lol money) and I have problems to sleep, besides another huge chunck of issues. Do I try to grow as a person? OF COURSE! But I will not put myself on risk, for it. I need to grow in a way that I will not collapse because I haven't my basic needs covered. I DON'T HAVE COMFORT ZONE, so my growth must adapt to the little I can afford myself to do. I can't step over my Comfort Zone because I DIDN'T HAVE ONE TO START.

I repeat, you can't leave your Comfort Zone if you don't have it.

So, for the love of Maslow, people, stop to suggest to everyone to "step out the Comfort Zone" when, except some lucky ones (eat the rich), mostly of the normal people is struggling with not become homeless.

It feels invasive, like pushing us, and make us think that we are not growing enough and getting mentally better because we don't go out our "Comfort Zone". Feels like if you are drowing and some say "haha now try to swim with a shark and touch it, you will grow with that experience"... I'M DROWNING, I CAN'T BREATHE, I CAN'T EVEN OPEN MY EYES UNDER WATER, HOW I WILL TOUCH A SHARK?

Next time, be gently, be empathic. Self growth is great, but do it in a safe gentle way, that there are enough suddenly events in real life that will kick you out of your Comfort Zone by force, or even break your Comfort Zone, sometimes to the point that you will not have anything left.

Stop pushing, stop to add struggles when you are struggling every second of your life. Prioritize. You will have until the last second of your life to grow as a person, focus in your safety. Focus in create your Comfort Zone, in making it bigger, stronger. I want to see you happy, healthy and safe. I love you.

Edit: Someone also explain it amazingly here

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Since people are talking about “castles in the air” again for Dracula Daily - it means, basically, your ideal futures. Your dreams of what your life could be if everything went how you wanted. It seems to have been a fairly common phrase in the 19th century - it’s used in Little Women - and there’s no romantic connotation to it (except for the fact that in this case, in Dracula, both of the women are hoping soon to be married). A bit like today we have “what would you do if you won the lottery?”, expect more expansive because it’s not just about money.

Here’s a bit from the chapter of Little Women entitled (natch!) “Castles in the Air” to illustrate:

“Wouldn't it be fun if all the castles in the air which we make could come true, and we could live in them?" said Jo, after a little pause.

"I've made such quantities it would be hard to choose which I'd have," said Laurie, lying flat, and throwing cones at the squirrel who had betrayed him.

"You'd have to take your favorite one. What is it?" asked Meg.

"If I tell mine, will you tell yours?"

"Yes, if the girls will too."

"We will. Now, Laurie."

"After I'd seen as much of the world as I want to, I'd like to settle in Germany, and have just as much music as I choose. I'm to be a famous musician myself, and all creation is to rush to hear me; and I'm never to be bothered about money or business, but just enjoy myself, and live for what I like. That's my favorite castle. What's yours, Meg?”

Margaret seemed to find it a little hard to tell hers, and waved a brake before her face, as if to disperse imaginary gnats, while she said slowly, "I should like a lovely house, full of all sorts of luxurious things,—nice food, pretty clothes, handsome furniture, pleasant people, and heaps of money. I am to be mistress of it, and manage it as I like, with plenty of servants, so I never need work a bit. How I should enjoy it! for I wouldn't be idle, but do good, and make every one love me dearly."

“Wouldn't you have a master for your castle in the air?" asked Laurie slyly.

"I said 'pleasant people,' you know;" and Meg carefully tied up her shoe as she spoke, so that no one saw her face.

"Why don't you say you'd have a splendid, wise, good husband, and some angelic little children? You know your castle wouldn't be perfect without," said blunt Jo, who had no tender fancies yet, and rather scorned romance, except in books.

“You'd have nothing but horses, inkstands, and novels in yours," answered Meg petulantly.

"Wouldn't I, though? I'd have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I'd write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie's music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle,—something heroic or wonderful, that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous: that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream."

"Mine is to stay at home safe with father and mother, and help take care of the family," said Beth contentedly.

"Don't you wish for anything else?" asked Laurie.

"Since I had my little piano, I am perfectly satisfied. I only wish we may all keep well and be together; nothing else."

"I have ever so many wishes; but the pet one is to be an artist, and go to Rome, and do fine pictures, and be the best artist in the whole world," was Amy's modest desire.

[coraniaid]

Oooh there are so many good prompts, it's hard to choose! I'm gonna go with Fuffy + 13. “You make me feel safe.” :)

Sorry this took so long! To be honest, I'm still not 100% happy with it, but one of the things I was trying to do with these prompts was let myself write quick and short stand-alones without worrying too much about editing them afterwards and it's already been over three weeks. Hopefully it works okay as it is.

This is an almost canon-compliant S7, except that Faith got broken out of prison and came to Sunnydale a few months earlier than she did in canon.

Faith remembers the first night she ever came to Buffy’s house.

She’d only been in Sunnydale for a couple of days.  Hadn’t had a decent meal since getting off the coach.  Or for a couple of weeks before getting on the coach, come to think of it.  And, yeah, maybe Buffy’s invitation had seemed a little stiff, a little bit unenthusiastic - maybe she'd got the sense, even then, that Buffy didn't exactly want her around - but she’d still figured it was worth it. Where was the harm in checking out how the other Slayer lived, with a free meal along the way?

She’d already known Buffy had things easier than she did, but she hadn’t really been ready for just how much she had. For just how rich her life was.  She remembers looking around the living room before they ate, thinking how big it was – how full of furniture and art and books and framed photos of Buffy and her family – how much smaller and emptier it made the shitty little motel she was sleeping in feel.  She remembers sitting opposite Buffy at a huge table, trying to play it cool, while Buffy’s mom kept bringing in bowl after bowl of food from out of the kitchen.  She remembers the way Joyce had asked Faith questions while she ate, had seemed interested in her answers in a way Faith doesn’t think most people ever were. In a way nobody had treated Faith before Diana. And she remembers the way Buffy’s kid sister had looked at her while they all ate: like she was the coolest person she’d ever met, maybe the coolest person alive.  A superhero, or something.  

(From what Faith’s been told, this part didn’t happen.  Dawn wasn’t really there. Faith’s not too clear on exactly where she was.  But that’s how she remembers it.)

The part with Buffy’s mom had been real though.  She’s pretty sure of that.  She remembers as well that, weeks later, Joyce had worried about Faith spending the holidays alone and gotten Buffy to invite her over for Christmas.  Joyce had always looked out for her.  Always cared about her.  Now Joyce is dead, and practically the last memory of her Faith has is of holding a knife to her throat and promising to kill her.  Just one more evil fucked-up thing she’s done that she’s never going to be able to make right.   

Truth is that she’d been kind of awestruck back then, and not just by the house.  Not just by Buffy’s family.  By all of it.  By Buffy’s whole life.  She’d even let.herself think that maybe she had a place here.  Somewhere safe.  Somewhere she belonged, with someone who might …  well, whatever.  She always had been a little slow.  Buffy had made it clear where they really stood soon enough.  That there were parts of her life Faith would be tolerated in, if not exactly welcomed, and other parts that were pretty much permanently off limits. 

Four years later, the place doesn’t seem quite so big.

These days the Summers’ house has to hold a lot more people than just three. Not just Buffy and her sister, but Willow, Xander and Anya too, plus an ever-growing small army of Potential Slayers.  And Faith herself, of course.  Somehow she’d made it here after all.  It isn’t quite what she’d expected.  And not just because it's an awful lot more crowded.  

That’s why, when it happens, Faith’s not totally surprised to find Buffy waiting outside the room she’d managed to snag for herself when she first arrived here in the fall.  The other Slayer looks at her a little nervously, like she’s about to break some bad news.  Still, at least Faith knows it can’t be too terrible.  She’s just got back from a late night patrol, and everyone who should be alive in here still is. For now.

“Willow and I have been talking, and … um,” Buffy hesitates. "Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?"

What Buffy manages not to say – as if everyone in the house didn’t know – is that Red and Kennedy have been getting real serious lately, and not exactly shy about expressing their affections either.  They weren't exactly keeping their hands to themselves. So unless Buffy had gotten a lot more relaxed about some things in the last three years – which Faith kind of doubts, whatever that Spike guy says – she could hardly keep sharing her old room with Willow the way she’s been doing since Faith arrived.

Faith rather likes Kennedy, all things considered.  She’s got a bit of an attitude on her, sure, and she goes out of her way to get in Buffy’s face a lot more often than she should, but then, Faith would have to be awfully hypocritical to get mad at somebody else for doing any of that.  Besides, you need an attitude if you’re going to make it as a Slayer.  Need some sort of edge.  You need a bit of backbone and self-confidence, just as much as you need the actual superpowers, if you’re planning to live for long.  So Kennedy’s all right, as far as Faith’s concerned.   

That’s why she reminds herself not to be too mad at the Potential for costing her a comfortable bed at training tomorrow morning.  Tells herself she won’t spend too much time thinking up more painful drills tonight.  Or at least that she won’t actually make Kennedy do many of them.

"No problem, B," she says now with a casual shrug. "I guess I'll see if there's a spare cot in the basement."

Oddly, that doesn’t seem to be the answer Buffy was hoping for.  She frowns, like Faith’s just said something wrong.  

(That’s a look that Faith’s had plenty of time to get used to in her years in Sunnydale.)

"No," Buffy tries again.  "I meant, maybe I could sleep with you.”  

The other Slayer’s eyes widen slightly a second after she says that, which Faith figures means it takes her that long to properly hear what she actually said.

“In the same room, I mean!” the other Slayer clarifies quickly.  “That we should share.  But not … you know.”

Yeah, Faith knows.  She might be slow, but Buffy’s been pretty clear about that.  And it’s not like Faith’s ever been exactly subtle about making the offer..

(“What are friends for?” she remembers asking Buffy once, out on patrol, a few nights before everything went bad.  On one of the last good nights, before Faith had managed to ruin things forever.  And Buffy had just looked at her, the way she always did back then, prim and proper and faintly disapproving, and told her that she thought “that stuff” ruined friendships.  

So they both knew where they stood, even back then.  At least she’d never been desperate enough to beg.)

“Unless ... that's not weird, is it?” Buffy asks her. “ You wouldn’t mind?  You can find somewhere else if you want, or I can, only I–"

Watching Buffy nervously babble, a faint blush still visible on her cheeks, Faith could almost kid herself that no time at all had passed since she first arrived in Sunnydale.  That there’s going to be some big test at school that the older Slayer’s all stressed out about.  That she doesn’t work there, that she isn’t suddenly old enough to own a house and have a job and be raising her kid sister all by herself.  That as late as it is, they could still sneak out to the Bronze after this, just the two of them, and that this time, maybe …

“It’s your house,” Faith says with another shrug, not sure if she wants to think about how she feels about sharing a room with Buffy, even now.  “As long as you don’t snore, we’re five by five.”

The familiar way Buffy reacts that – like she’s affronted, but not actually angry – makes Faith think she must’ve managed to hit the right tone this time.

“I don’t snore,” Buffy says firmly.  “Anything Dawn says to suggest otherwise is a total lie.”

"That’s okay, B," Faith makes herself grin, trying to hang on to the familiar feeling while she can. "I've shared a cell with girls who do a lot worse than snore."

“Surprised you ain’t sharing a room with Dawn, actually,” she admits, a little bit later, once they’re both inside.  “Or one of the Potentials.”

Somebody who isn’t her, she means.  Somebody that Buffy might actually like.  Somebody she can trust.

“Well, Dawn’s the one who snores,” Buffy says.  “And she needs some space of her own.  For homework, and for … I just don’t want to take that away from her.”

Faith’s not sure what to say to that. Even before she was Called, she never had the sort of childhood Buffy or her sister had.  Never got to be just a girl, the way that they both did.  To have the sort of easy life kids have in crappy teen dramas.  Not that she’s the only one missing out; she guesses a lot of other girls don’t ever get the chance either. A fair few of the Potentials sleeping under this very roof didn't, for a start. 

But watching the way Buffy fights to give Dawn the chance to have that sort of childhood – to protect her from the world, as long as she can –  makes Faith feel … well, she isn’t sure.  Proud, maybe, but sort of sad at the same time. Because nobody ever fought for that on her behalf. Because there's nobody left to fight for it for Buffy. 

She doesn’t know how to explain any of that though.  Guesses Buffy would think she would be being presumptive if she tried.  So she doesn’t say a word.

“And the other girls … they don’t get it,” Buffy says.  “They look at me like I’m something I’m not.  Like I’m like Ri– some kind of army guy.  A general.  Like I’m trying to be special; to put myself above them.  They don’t understand what it means to be like us.”

Truth is Faith isn’t sure what it means to be like them.  If she knew how to be like Buffy, maybe things a few years ago could’ve worked out differently.  She’d convinced herself, for a bit, back in prison, that that’s all she’d ever wanted.  To have been like Buffy: so much like her that she didn’t have to think about being herself anymore.  To have been so good at pretending to be her better half  that she became her.

Then Red had helped bust her out of prison, she’d found herself back in Sunnydale  – because Buffy needed her, so what kind of choice did she have?  – and she’d had to admit to herself that that wasn’t all she’d wanted.  It never had been.

They’re both in bed – on opposite sides of the room, so far apart they couldn’t touch even if they’d wanted to – before the other Slayer speaks again. Buffy had grabbed the bed closest to the window, so to a Slayer’s eyes she’s easy enough to see with the moonlight shining through the curtains. Faith though … well, she's in the dark, isn’t she? That part feels familiar too.

“Is it weird?” Buffy asks her.  “Being back here?”

Faith’s glad, suddenly, that Buffy can’t see her in the darkness.  Can’t see the sudden guilty look on her face; that she doesn’t have to pretend not to be surprised that her thoughts were so obvious. 

“Beats prison, I guess,” she says.

There’s a short silence from the other side of the room.

“Right.  I meant to ask.  Was it …” Buffy doesn’t finish the question.  That’s good.  It means Faith doesn’t have to lie to her.

Prison had sucked.  Of course it had.  Probably would have been a lot worse if Faith hadn’t had her strength and her healing and all the other side-benefits of being a Slayer.  Or maybe not.  Maybe if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have had that same itch, every night.  The need to fight, to hunt down demons and monsters, the conviction that she belonged out there, fighting vampires.  The false conviction that the world needed her out there, fighting the good fight.   

Because it was false.  The world had been just fine without her.  Because there was only ever supposed to be one of them, and it was never meant to be her. She didn’t have anything good left to offer anyone anyway.  She’d belonged in prison.  Buffy had said as much.  And if Buffy said it, it had to be true, no matter how much it hurt.  That was pretty much the one thing Faith had learned since she got here.  That Buffy was the good Slayer, and that she was … the other one.

“The other week,” Buffy says slowly, “Anya told me that …”

Faith feels herself tensing up a little.  She doesn’t really get Anya.  She’s a little odd, even for Sunnydale.  She doesn’t remember her from back in the day either.  Some of the things she says don’t really make any sense, but she figures that’s none of her business.  Hell, apparently the girl was all set to marry Xander Harris.  Why should anything she say make any kind of sense?  But if she's been bitching about Faith behind her back, if she said something that upset Buffy, then maybe–

“Nevermind,” Buffy says, cutting that thought off.  “It’s not important.”

Faith feels herself relaxing slightly, a bit of tension draining out of her.  Neither of them speaks for a few more minutes.

"I'm glad you're back, anyway," Buffy says sleepily, just as Faith’s about to nod off herself. "You being here again … it's good. You make me feel safe."

Even at her most pathetic moments behind bars, Faith doesn't think she'd ever let herself imagine Buffy saying that to her.

"Uh, B," she says slowly.  “You might wanna rethink that idea.  Last I checked, most people in this house are a lot safer to be around than I am.  I mean, there’s a reason Dawn leaves the room whenever I come in, and it’s not just because I keep helping myself to that cereal she likes.” 

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little, the whole cold shoulder treatment.  Especially since, the way Willow explained it, Dawn’s the one person Faith remembers from her visit to Sunnydale who she didn’t really do anything to.  Sure, she remembers saying things to her, waving a knife in her face, but that wasn’t her.  It didn’t really happen.

But she gets it.  Of course she does.  It might not be real, but it may as well be.  They both remember it all the same.  And it’s nothing she wouldn’t have done, given the chance.  She’d done a lot worse, hadn’t she?  To people Dawn cared about.  To her mom.  To Buffy.

“Dawn really liked you,” Buffy says quietly.  “She was really hurt when .. you know.  But she’ll get over it eventually. She'll forgive you.”

Faith frowns at that.  Swallows in the dark.

“Maybe she shouldn’t,” she says.  “Maybe I don’t deserve that.  The things I did … to Joyce, to you … maybe nobody should forgive me.  Maybe there’s some things you just can’t ever make right.”

(She remembers the last meeting with Buffy, years earlier.  Back in LA.  In Angel’s place.  Remembers the look on her face.  The tremble of barely suppressed fury in her voice.  “Apologize to me,” Buffy had warned her then, “And I will beat you to death.”  Maybe it would’ve been easier for them both that way.)

“You’re not planning to do anything like that again though, right?” Buffy says, fighting back a yawn, comfortable now in a way Faith doesn’t remember her sounding for years.  For forever, maybe.  “I mean, the First isn’t about to talk you into teaming up to take over the world or anything, right?”

"No," Faith says immediately, awake in a way she wasn’t a minute ago.  "God no, Buffy.  Of course I'd never--"

"So I'm right," Buffy says smugly, and without even turning to look Faith can imagine the satisfied look on her face perfectly.  “This is the safest place I can be right now.”

Faith breathes out, slowly.

“Yeah, I guess,” she says. 

Some things haven’t changed, Faith figures.  However little she likes the thought of being a leader, Buffy sure does love being in control.  Faith can’t say she minds too much though.  Not really.  Deep down, she’s always kind of liked it.

Later, when the other Slayer's fallen asleep, Faith just lays in bed, thinking. Trying to get used to the quiet sounds Buffy makes, lying on the other side of the room. (She doesn't snore, exactly. They're not bad sounds.)

That first year in Sunnydale ... looking back, she'd been so angry, pretty much all the time.  At least, as soon as she’d figured out that Buffy wasn’t ever going to accept her into her life the way she wanted.  She’d wanted so badly to be seen, the way that she could see Buffy.  For the other Slayer to recognize something of herself in Faith, something Faith wasn’t sure she had. Because they were the Chosen Two, the only people in the world like each other, but maybe that wasn’t quite enough.

Because Buffy’s wrong.  She is special.  Not because she’s the Slayer, not because she's some kind of General, not because she saved the world a whole bunch of times – although that helps, sure – but because of everything else. Because of the things about her that Faith’s never been able to understand, never been able to imitate: the things that make her different from the person Faith is.  The things that make her better than Faith is, better than she could ever be.  Because she’s Buffy; and because Faith’s not.

Sometimes it feels as though, ever since she arrived in Sunnydale, maybe even before that, Faith’s been nothing but a pale reflection of the older Slayer.  A bad imitation; a cheap and nasty knock-off.  Sometimes it feels like the only thing Faith’s ever really wanted is for the other Slayer to look at her the way she looks at Buffy.  Like she’s the fulcrum on which the whole world rests; the only bright light in a dark and clouded sky. 

Thing is, she's never going to be that for Buffy.  She gets that now.  She's not ever going to be Angel, or Spike, or even that farmhand boytoy Buffy had hooked up with in college.  No amount of wishing or anger or dreaming is ever going to change that.  It’s just not the way the world will ever work.  But maybe that's okay.  With everything she’s done, she doesn’t deserve any of that anyway.  If there was any justice in the world – if Willow hadn’t come to LA last fall, told her that Buffy needed her – she’d still be rotting in a prison cell.  When all this is over, maybe that’s exactly where she’ll end up.

Maybe.  For now, at least, she gets to be needed.  She gets to help.  She gets to be part of Buffy’s life after all, even if it’s not in the way she would’ve wanted.  She gets to be with Buffy -- on patrol, training the Potentials, and sometimes, when she's lucky, in quiet moments alone like this -- without anybody fighting her or calling the cops on her or trying to drag her back to prison.  She gets to listen to her now, breathing quietly as she sleeps.  And that's enough.  Of course it is.  That has to be enough.  It's more than she deserves.

This First Evil demon thing wants to go after the Slayer line?  It wants to hurt Buffy?  Well, let it try.  It'll have to come through her first.  Plenty of chicks in prison had figured out the hard way that Faith was tougher than she looked.  And she's got something to fight for now.  She's found somewhere that she belongs.  If Buffy wants her to play watchdog again, then that’s something she can do.

Faith falls asleep watching Buffy, committing the sight of her face bathed in moonlight to memory.   Because she knows that, however things go from here, this was one of the good nights.  This is a moment she isn’t going to want to forget.

And when Faith sleeps, she dreams.  She dreams of coming around to Buffy’s house again, the way she had that first night, and doing things all over.   She dreams of Homecoming, and Christmas dinners, and dancing side by side at the Bronze.  She dreams of being brave enough to say how she feels instead of muttering an awkward “nothing” to an already closing door.  Faith dreams of Buffy Summers and second chances, with a smile on her face that she can’t know mirrors the smile of the Slayer sleeping across from her.

For now, in this moment, maybe that’s enough.

[bloodyarn]

𝕆ℂ 𝕄𝔼𝕄𝔼

tagged by @anderwelt [ You are absolutely crazy but I love a challenge so lesgo !!! ]

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꒰ 𝗕𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ꒱ 

Full name: Babette Adeline Ziromzu Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual + Biromantic Pronouns: She/her

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꒰ 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 

Birthplace: Baldur's Gate Job: Seamstress Phobias: Everything with more than four legs. She is the token example of someone who hates bugs. Spiders and moths are her arch nemesis.  Guilty pleasures: Gossiping and sweet baked goods. Combine both and you make her day.

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꒰ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐒 ꒱

Alignment: Lawful good.

Sins:

Aimless: Babette never really learned to do her own thing besides following orders or occasionally working on own little projects in the past. The first thing she wanted to do after the Nautiloid accident is to go home because she was shit scared of what to do else. Imagine a house cat suddenly dropped off in the wild and having to figure things out. She only knows how to be a seamstress, thus her goal was and is reaching the city. Blue-eyed: Oftentimes, she refuses to believe one would have only ill intentions. She gives chances way too often and wouldn't it be for her companions, this most likely would have cost her her head in the past.  Impressionable: You can talk her into almost anything. Refusing commands only led to bad outcomes in her childhood. One example would be when the party arrives at the Gate and meets their first Steel Watcher, Babette was pretty much convinced it was a great idea and a wonderful change to have these machines walking around the city. Even after destroying the facility, she was sure Gortash had good intentions in making the city safer. She is a bit slow . . .

Virtues:

Forgiving: The kind of good part of being blue-eyed is that she does not hold a grudge for too long. She can very much be explossive if someone did her wrong but the girl is not one to not accept an apology. Compassionate: Compassion was a huge deal in her childhood. Her sisters had to stick together, a friendship of seven that was even bound by blood. Caring for others and helping them out comes naturally.  Polite: Babette comes from a rich family. Politeness is her bread and butter. She even worked at the shopfront for a long time before turning into a hexblood and has exceptional negotiation skills.

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꒰ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 ꒱

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

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꒰ 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 ꒱

This is a hard one since I did not create Babette with shipping intent. The following answers are my gut feeling and what I imagine could be cute. The ships are in nor specific order, just babbling about it. Why I definitely ship her with non canon muses from BG3, I will only name canon characters here.

OTP:

✮ Gale :  You can tell me what you want but they would click in my opinion. Not knowing how to handle his whole Mystra problem at first, he would still have an open ear that listens to his problems unconditionally. Funnily enough, Babsi would remind Gale to take things easy after every fight because of the orb, not entirely understanding how it works but still trying to be of help. It would probably often end up in conversations like ❝Hey, it's alright, I can lift this myself.❞ ❝Oh, but the ORB Gale. Better safe than sorry. I help you.❞. What only fuels this whole ship is that Gale is the token husband her mother always told her children about. He is smart, kind, polite, influential. This definitely plays a big role in her preferences too. Godhood would be sad and hard. I don't think Babette would try and talk him out of it. He often sounds reasonable, and if the best outcome is becoming god, in his opinion, she will nod like ❝Oh you have a point, that makes sense.❞. Yes, it would break something inside her but who is she to object? He is the smart guy. ⚔︎ Wyll : She is a hopeless romantic. Wyll would have the easiest fucking game. The woman never learned how to dance - perfect opportunity to bond. And oh dear lord would she bond. She could also relate to a degree with his family problems, ending up feeling a huge amount of empathy for Wyll and invested in helping him where she can. What many people (somehow) judge him for is that he is so untruthful in the beginning. Not a big deal for her. That girl won't call him out, she understands very well. Hells, when babette joins, she is disguised as a tiefling herself for the first few long rests, fearing to be treated differently if people found out about her pact and her hexblood ancestry. I feel strongly about them.

Acceptable Ships:

🗡 Astarion : Obviously a  good contenter. Girl is easily manipulable which makes her a perfect target in act 1 but I think the whole plot between them can turn out awfully sweet when the journey goes on. Babette canonically also volunteers to being a bloodbank after Tav found out about him being a vampire spawn for the group's sake lmao. Not because she finds the idea hot, just so Astarion doesn't have to be hungry. ⛓ Karlach :  Babette can easily fall victim to the big lady's confidence and the charm that lies behind it. Since touch is a huge thing for her in a relationship, romantic or not, she would be more than eager to try and figure out how to handle the infernal engine and the whole Avernus spiel. There is also just a huge itch that is being scratced about big strong woman and petite small one. Imagine the huuugsss *melts* *like litererally because Karlach, ya know ya know?* Note: Ships don't only have to be companions. I just picked them to keep it clean and consistent. I am a huge sucker for clashing personalities. Gortash for example could be interesting, since she is awfully easy to manipulate. Volo is more of a crackship but still awfully fun to think about! Apparently Rolan made it into the roster too [thanks Bean ig uwu']. If you want me to write some more about it feel free to boop me :)

OT3: Babette does not really enjoy the idea of polygamy so I will leave this blank :x

Brotp:

ฅ Minsc: Bimbo and himbo. These two share one single braincell and would be seen talking and theorizing about the most mundane shit. She would always call him first when there is a big bug in her tent and I believe he would be elated to help on this mighty quest. They are both not the brightest in the most charming way possible. Babette would be around his tent a whole lot just to hear about battles and stories.

Notp: Wulbren Bongle >:( We hate Wulbren Bongle in this household.

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꒰ 𝗕𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 ꒱

Let me just ctrl + v the backstory here :3c

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𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓[ ✂ ] [CW: Child labor]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝘆𝐨𝘂𝐧𝐠𝐞𝘀𝘁 𝐨𝐟 𝘀𝐞𝘃𝐞𝐧 𝘀𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝘀. Babette was born into a strict family. Playing outside like her peers, getting dirty in puddles on the street after summer rains, nothing that she could afford. It was her own mother, who treated their children like workers, teaching them knitting, crocheting, sewing only to prepare them to ’help out the family’. Both of her parents endured a childhood in poverty. It was their way of keeping the family’s life standards above average, no matter the cost.

The girl had trouble, picking up the family’s craft. Never terrible but never perfect either. A wrong stitch here, a forgotten button on a vest, keep your gods damned head together ! Why couldn’t she be as good as her sisters ? Why does mother threaten to send her off, send her to an orphanage, if kind enough ?

No matter how long Babette practiced, time only rewarded her with more bloody pokes in her hands. Clumsy. Slow. Lazy.

A hag got wind from the girl’s troubles and bitter thoughts. Babette’s fears enlightened, amused the fey. Sweet-talking her way into the child’s heart, feigning compassion, offering solutions, quick ones. One of their circle was killed recently. A replacement was needed. If the young lady would agree to a pact, she would gain impeccable skills in her craft. Everyone would be enticed by her future works, the needle like a brush to the artist. Only a small touch of her own body, a hair, a droplet of blood in her work, would do the trick. In return, the seamstress would comply to turn into a hag, one of the arch fey’s kin, in time.

And the desperation cried louder than the girl’s common sense. The need for admiration, for praise, was too much to bear living without it any longer.

Babette left the forest with a crown.

A token of her pact.

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐀𝘁 𝐟𝐢𝗿𝘀𝘁, 𝘁𝐡𝐢𝘀 𝐛𝐚𝗿𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝘄𝐢𝘁𝐡 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝗿𝐜𝐡𝐟𝐞𝘆 𝘄𝐚𝘀𝐧'𝘁 𝐛𝐚𝐝; 𝐧𝐨𝘁 𝐚𝘁 𝐚𝐥𝐥. The pact altered the girl's appearance; hair & skin now holding a soft lavender tone, pale and almost sickly. The eldercross around her head now one with her body. Hers, just like the fey blood pumping through her veins. After the first shock settled when returning to her family, it didn't take long for her parents to see the potential of their youngest child. Only by attaching something from Babette, sewing in a hair between fabric, the craft would carry a mesmerizing touch. Clearly, anything would sell now. Obviously, the nestling was a pot of gold.

Did she really have the privilege to argue about it now ? About that exploit, which only got worse because of decisions, made with her own intentions ?

Her work for her family continued, happy to help, happy to be needed at least. It was . . . strangely nice.

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝘄𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝘁 𝗿𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝗿 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝘄𝘀, 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝘄𝐡𝘆𝘀, 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝘄𝐡𝐞𝗿𝐞𝘀. Stranded, far away from her hometown, she found herself at shore. The devastating pulsing inside her head, the twirling of her vision, the nausea. Everything was scary. Not only that, but finding herself anywhere else instead of home made her anxious. Her appearance could easily be identified as a hag in the making, her reason why she disguised herself as long as needed.

Following a group of tiefling refugees on their way to the Emerald Grove, Babette blended in marvelously. From there, the hexblood would have to find a way to Baldur's Gate. The thought about . . . returning . . . seemed strange. An awkward stir and turn. It inflicts worry and second thoughts. Maybe This was a sign. Maybe it was just foolish.

Whatever the future brings, it is inevitable anyway.She should stop thinking and start following her instincts.

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I am not tagging anyone but feel free to do it too! It was awfully fun and I most likely will link this somewhere in my pinned. ♥

[heartshapedhackjob]

I will make this post and then be done with this childish behavior. I feel as though every other person on earth is having a good time except for me. They say that these should be the best years of my life but I feel chained to these feelings about my body and my abuse and my worries about the future of my loved ones. My mother called me while I was writing this post and I answered and hung up without speaking. I've done that three times this week. I don't know how to have a conversation with her. I don't know how to live in a body that's suffered this much abuse and I know I'm not the ONLY person who has ever been abused but if you had as many vague health issues as I do if you could not leave home for longer than an hour or two because you are too scared to use a public bathroom. If you had to hear everyone talk about your abuser and his recovery on a constant fucking daily basis. you would feel this way too. Friends tell me about their sexual escapades and it makes me sick with bitterness and envy because it will never be that easy for me again. Sex is the scariest thing in the world to me. I told others yesterday that I would give up sex for food which is so rich coming from an anorexic. everyone tells me my emotions are too much and they all have a different diagnosis for me borderline histrionic schizophrenic etc but I feel like nobody cares about why I feel this way to begin with it's easier for them that way to act like it can be wrapped up and fixed with a pretty little bow. I am obsessed with how my body looks. Getting skinnier consumes most of my waking thoughts. I have so much I should feel happy about. I keep telling myself when xyz happens then I will get sober, feel better, get my shit together , it will all be okay then and then that day comes and those thoughts drift away like fog. I don't talk to anyone in real life outside of my immediate family and significant other. I'm going to quit my job probably or get fired. My new therapist told me I'm histrionic which is probably why I'm making this post; I probably have clinical depression too. I'm drinking again. Alcohol feels like my only higher power. I'm not allowed to grieve about it all

[dyns33]

Unknown love

Another Lord Byron x Reader. I had two versions of this story, I don’t know yet if I’ll post the second one. 

Lord Byron could have said no to his dear aunt.

He would often say no to his dear aunt when she asked him nonsense or boring things, mocking her only to be better forgiven with smiles and poems a few days later.

So when she told him about marriage, he laughed. He had scoffed.

But unfortunately, he also had to listen to her carefully when she explained to him that the family's finances were in a terrible state. They were spending way too much to keep up appearances and pay for the upkeep of the mansions, and soon they would be broke, up to their necks in debt, and unable to go on living as they wanted.

It was not suitable for a family like theirs.

Lord Byron did not care what other people thought, but he loved his daily life, he loved his comfort, his freedom, and even if his writings brought him a little money, the parties and other pleasures he offered himself made everything disappear even faster than it had happened.

A good arranged marriage was therefore the ideal solution.

He was very clear with his aunt. She might find a rich heiress, but in exchange he insisted that his loving future wife would not prevent him from continuing to follow his habits.

In short, he would offer his title and a mansion to the young girl, who could live on the estate, in another building, as a Lady, and he would stay in his house, as if he were absolutely unmarried.

His aunt thought that was a wonderful idea, since he could be extremely unpleasant when he wanted to.

After several months of searching, she found Y/N Y/L/N. 

According to her, the girl was perfect. Pretty, discreet, well brought up and educated. If he ever wanted to talk to her, he wouldn't be bored. He wasn't sure she shared his love of partying and debauchery, but after a quick chat with her father and the young girl, she had seemed smart enough to say that her husband would be free to do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't force her to do things she didn't like.

Lord Byron signed the marriage contract, showed up at the church, read his vows and quickly kissed his new bride before returning to his business. The little time he spent with Y/N was not unpleasant, but he didn't really try to get to know her well.

It had no interest for her, really. A waste of time, and the risk of hearing a lot of criticism about the fact that he was neither a good husband nor a good man. Even if his new wife's opinion didn't matter, it was never pleasant to be insulted. His life therefore continued normally.

There were many times when he had to talk a bit with Y/N, at dinner parties they were invited to, or during important celebrations where she insisted on being by his side.

Again, Lord Byron had nothing against her. She really was as beautiful and intelligent as his aunt had said she was, and he sometimes found it sad that she ended up marrying him, but it was too late to have any regrets.

      "I have a favor to ask of you, but I'm afraid you will mock me."

      "If you want a new dress, jewelry, or another silly gift, that's fine with me."

      "No, none of that." she said shyly, lowering her eyes. "I... I had the pleasure of reading some of your writings and I... I was tempted to write myself. I would like you to read me."

This made him laugh. It was stronger than him, he couldn't help laughing, which seemed to upset his dear wife, who avoided him for the rest of the evening.

He didn't think about it afterwards, too busy preparing his new poems and having fun.

Until a new author appeared in the newspapers, then publishing some works. An anonymous author, whose identity no one knew, except perhaps the publisher who refused to give any information. An author whose writings were prodigious.

Lord Byron fell in love with these writings, and very logically, he considered that he could only love the mind that had produced them, even if he knew nothing about this person.

For months on end, he not only began to write for his unknown love, but he talked about their works to everyone and he harassed the publisher, who always refused to give him a name, even when he offered him many money, kneeling down on front of him.

One evening when he was talking about this with his friends, his wife came back.

      "I don't want to disturb you, but I was wondering if you would have some time to read this poem I wrote for you."

      "It's adorable my dear, but no. Not because I don't have time, but I'm afraid that nothing can touch me since I discovered the writings of this mysterious author. I'm afraid to be terribly critical of you in an unfair way."

      "But maybe you'll like it. Maybe... Maybe I write as well as this author."

This made him laugh again, and this time it made Y/N cry, who went back to her house.

Byron didn't think of it, like the last time.

Except that the day when the new writing of his love was to be published, there was nothing. 

Everyone thought there might have been a problem. The author could have had an accident, a family problem. They might have needed more time to finish writing. They might have had no idea, or been unhappy with what they had done.

But the days passed and there was no news. The publisher made no announcement, saying it was awaiting word on whether it could give a release date. Then he announced sadly that there would be no date, because there would be no more publication.

This was terrible news, which plunged Lord Byron into deep torment and endless depression.

Nothing had any flavor or importance anymore. He couldn't write and the few parties he organized didn't amuse him at all.

The truth came out during one of them though, as the drunken publisher that he had invited stared at him, slumped on the couch, too miserable to move.

      "You are pathetic."

      "Thank you, I know. You are no better yourself. Could you at least tell me why my love no longer writes ? If it is a personal reason, a death, an illness, I could understand. I think I I need to understand, to mourn. I really loved them."

      "You don't like her at all, otherwise she wouldn't have stopped writing !" growled the editor, emptying his glass. "She was wonderful, and you ruined everything. I'm sure her poem was perfect, but I didn't have the time to read it, she burned it ! She burned everything ! You can be proud of yourself. Men of your kind shouldn't marry such amazing women, they destroy them."

It may have been the alcohol that made the publisher say absurd things, but Lord Byron then had the terrible doubt that the author was Y/N, his dear wife, and he immediately visited her to find out for sure.

She didn't seem surprised to see him, when he never came. She was really very smart. She immediately guessed the reason for his presence.

      "I know that you know, so talk then leave. Or don't talk and leave, please."

      "I don't know what to tell you, to be honest. I didn't know... I'm an idiot. I apologize to you, I'm begging you to forgive me. Do you hate me ?"

      "If I hate anyone, it's myself. It was obvious that you weren't interested in me and I was stupid to think that would change. I never dreamed of being published, you know ? I don't care what other people think. I wanted... I just wanted your opinion. It made me so happy to hear that you liked my writings. They were for you, only for you. But when you laughed, when you refused to even imagine that I could be a good writer... It hurt me, and I couldn't do that anymore. I decided to keep myself to myself, I will not write anymore."

      "No !" he cried, falling in front of her. "I cannot live without your writings, knowing that it is my fault that the world is deprived of such wonders !"

      "All good things come to an end. But you're a writer yourself, so you can go on."

      "I don't have your talent, clearly not ! And why should good things come to an end ? It's absurd."

      "To savour them, and have beautiful memories."

      "No. No, I refuse."

      "And yet, Lord Byron, so it is. I loved you, I was happy to be your bride, I thought we would understand each other. I was wrong and now it's over. Goodbye."

Despite his tears, pleas and lamentations, Y/N went to her bedroom, leaving him alone on the living room carpet, from where he refused to move for three days. Then, tired and hungry, he finally agreed to go back to his own house, where he stayed in bed, not writing, not reading, and giving no party.

Everyone was very worried. This was not normal, for even when he was desperate or ill, Lord Byron threw at least one party a week.

To learn that his love, his divine love, was his wife, who had loved him, who had written for him, and who had lost the flame because of him, had been a real shock for the poor man.

He didn't think he could be himself again, after such a revelation. Once again, nothing was important anymore, absolutely nothing and he let himself waste away for days.

Then, as he brought her his meal, his butler placed a manuscript on his bed.

      "I don't feel like reading." muttered Lord Byron without moving.

      "Forgive me. Your wife insisted, but I can..."

      "Y/N ?! This is from Y/N ?!"

In an instant, Lord Byron was full of color, springing from his bed to pick up the manuscript and read it by the fireplace, careful not to burn the pages. In addition to the poem she had offered him to read, there were all of Y/N's writings, those she had published, and new ones, which she had never shown to anyone else.

Heart pounding, not caring about the night, the rain, his pyjamas, his bare feet, Lord Byron ran across the land that separated their two houses. Without thinking, he climbed the stairs, opened the door to his wife's bedroom, and sat down by the bed, taking her hands as she slept.

      "You have to publish all of this."

      "My god, George, what time is it ?" she asked turning her head in her pillow.

      "Too soon, or too late, I don't know. What I do know is that I love you, I love your writing and you need to publish it."

      "Right now, I have to sleep."

      "You don't understand."

      "I understand. I completely understand, I wrote all this." Y/N said looking him in the eyes. "Now, Lord Byron, go to sleep."

      "I can't ! Not after this. I need more ! The world needs more !"

      "Not now. Sleep. I know you can, for me."

Too exhausted to get up and go home, Lord Byron stared at his wife's bed for a long time, where he had never slept. Sighing, Y/N took his hand to help im up, laying him down next to her.

But he still couldn't sleep, watching her. This annoyed her a little, and when she asked him why he still wasn't sleeping, he replied that she really didn't understand.

      "Maybe not. What is wonderful for you is normal for me. And vice versa, I guess. Or almost. I cried while reading your writings, but they never prevented me from sleeping. Close your eyes."

This time he obeyed. That night was the start of something new, the couple finally settled under the same roof after a year of marriage, sharing the same bed, and starting to write together.

[cinnamoodles]

heyy can I get a 🍓[strawberry dream] from the hp fandom: golden trio/lightning era (no poly stuff please)

I am a straight female Slytherin. I'm kinda mean but like to my really close friends and it can be considered banter (by them anyway) I am like really nice to strangers. I love drawing I take my sketchbook with me everywhere.

I am 167.5 cm (5'6 approx) tall xx

Trauma Dumping is a guilty pleasure of mine. I often make bad decisions like choosing friends but I have a usually positive influence on people around me and often tend to change them for the better.

I excel in maths and english and currently am working on getting a degree in maths and or computer science.

I am an infp-t. I'm introverted around almost everyone except like my really really really close friends. my super close friends are usually the negative influence type but I still love them because they understand me the best xx

I'm a pretty well behaved student but my friends most definitely aren't. My friends got told off like all the time in school whereas the teacher never had to give me any warnings.

I am loyal to my friends. I will fight for them. One example of that is both me and my (now ex) bff liked the same person and I gave them up for her xx

I get along with more males than females despite being a female myself.

I'm kind of an idiot sometimes and end up giving stuff up for people that would never do that to me. In fact my bff that I gave up my crush for actually sided with someone else. One thing you outta know about me is that I digress a lot so like you can ignore this paragraph lmao.

I feel bad for people easily and believe everyone deserves a second chance even b*tchy people (excuse my French)

I love art and music and am really good at drawing portraits if I do say so myself. I've been doing music since I was 6.

As for my appearance, I have a sandy/tan skin colour. I have naturally curly dark brunette (almost black but not really) hair.

My clothing style varies. For formal occasions I wear vintage ish clothes. I wear checked dresses with puffy sleeves and white collars (really specific because it's one of my fave dresses and I own one). I wear "cute" outfits like skirts and sweatshirts. I also wear jeans (apple bottom high waisted jeans own my heart) and I wear cargo pants with cropped tops far too often.

I wrote a lot absvsccsav

Sorry if that's too much xx

thanks for checking out the cozy cafe event !

i ship you with…

cedric diggory !

— the both of you are definitely enemies to friends to lovers coded, probably only becoming enemies because of something your friends pulled on his friends.

— you’re very loyal and caring, which he respects, and how you’re always willing to give people a second chance, no matter what they’ve done.

— i get the vibes that you’re better at supporting other people then standing up for yourself, so he’s your personal bodyguard (even if that isn’t true).

— he would listen to your rambles with literal STARS in his eyes and whenever you apologize for trauma dumping, he has to take a minute and be like ‘why are you apologizing? go on, keep talking’.

— MATCHING OUTFITS OH MY GOD they’ll be so cute because you dress so pretty and formal and he’s such a rich prep boy so your dress styles go along great.

— you trying to teach him art is so funny because he has no idea what he’s doing (its canon he told me) and he just wants to impress you so much.

— the banter is great because he’s a pretty flirty person, but he BLUSHES every time you make fun of him and his friends totally rag on him for being so whipped.

anyway, i hope you liked your 🍓 — [ strawberry dream ] and please apply again! this was super fun to do!

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

I’m a straight woman who thinks jimin may be gay/bi but totally independent of jikook or any ship. I don’t think any other members are queer actually but I also don’t follow them as closely as jimin. My oT7 real life army friends are also of this thinking but they are very not online and don’t even know about the jikook taekook stuff lol.

The way I see it, those PJMs who react aggressively to any jimin being queer talks are just overcorrecting for the jikooker stuff that they see is hurting jimin. Idk just my opinion.

I truly don’t care what jimin is I just love his gentleness and strength and kindness and wonderfulness and these qualities you rarely see in cis men, especially ones that rich and famous. He’s so special 🥺

I do ship him with wi hajoon and Charles melton in my head tho 😶‍🌫️

I got into BTS in mid 2017, and only started thinking there was something between jikook in late 2018- early 2019. But even before that, I already thought Jimin wasn't straight.

People who think more than two BTS members are queer are SO DELUSIONAL I CANT STRESS IT ENOUGHHHH. Sometimes I think even two is kind of a reach but it's still a sensible statistic. I actually don't think many idols are queer.

Even for Jungkook, the only reason shippers have to think he's gay is ships 😭 there's not much he does outside of skinship and other BTS related stuff that could be used as proof he's queer. I mean, in the real world. In the world of a kpop fan, wearing a crop top is peak queerness. They're an easy public.

Imagine if Jimin was the one watching and liking tiktoks of a girl showing her thong, or dming female dancers on Instagram, copying her choreography, or constantly interact with a girl group member the way Jungkook did with chaewon. The video inside his apartment, as well. And that's only talking about the recent stuff, because if we go way back there's years of actual evidence of Jungkook having close relationships with women that his same fans would use to shit on Jimin. Even jikookers would think Jimin liking a girl showing her thong was a red flag as to how he's straight. They believe Jimin saying wow during a hwasa performance was peak heterosexuality and bring it up every 3 business days. Makes you wonder why they don't do the same with Jungkook seemingly showing interest on women.

Yeah, a lot of pjms react to strongly because they can't look past the ship or because they don't want others to use "gay" as an insult towards Jimin. But that's not helping any matters.. being called gay never was and will never be an insult, no matter who or why they say it.

I don't care what he is, either. I just have a feeling and that's it. I've had the same feeling about other people all my life and I've always ended up being right lol.

Just a funny anecdote; I think Ashley Benson was my craziest case of impeccable gaydar. I watched the first season of pretty little liars when it came out. I was 14, and while watching the show and the interviews and all, I kept thinking Ashley wasn't straight. A million years ago by, and she ends up dating Cara Delevingne. It was crazy just because of how young I was, and I knew nothing of Ashley except for the show.

In 2019, I was watching an interview of the queer eye cast without knowing anything about them (because that's how I go about when I'm getting into something -trying to get to know it by myself), and while watching I couldn't stop thinking "this one's not gay, he's bi" about Antoni. A few weeks later, I found out Antoni had come out as bisexual.

But you won't see me talking about that stuff because I don't really go around telling people "I think this one's gay", I don't care like that; it's just thoughts that cross my mind, a feeling, a hunch or whatever. If I end up being wrong, it's not a big deal since I was never going to put my hand on the fire for any of it. I'm not scared of being wrong. That and... I know that Jimin is a real person. There's more to him than his sexuality, and it's not the reason I started liking him in the first place.

Yes, he's totally secretly dating wi hajoon and dated charles for like a month in the past. We all saw charles putting his arm on Jimin's back and that can mean only one thing in Korea.

[theycallme-thejackal]

Lenny carrying midge

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T

He furrows his brow as he watches her.

He's been doing this for weeks. Hiding in the shadows at her gigs, watching her be sensational as usual, and then slipping out of the club without her noticing.

She's funny - so funny - but there's something off about her tonight. She's a little breathless, her timing is just a hair slower than usual, and she's not moving around as much. She's still getting great laughs, but he can see the slightest trace of sweat around her hairline like she's working too hard.

He migrates around the edge of the club toward the stage, trying to get a better look at her, and just as he gets about fifteen feet away, she stops mid-joke.

He dashes forward just as she begins to collapse.

He gets there in the nick of time, catching her so she doesn't hit the ground in front of the stage. Around him people gasp and chatter at the sight before them, but he's only paying attention to her.

"Midge...Midge!" He jostles her a little in his arms, and her eyes flutter open.

Her usually bright blue eyes look more than a little dazed, and she asks, "What happened?"

"You passed out," he answers. "You've been working yourself too hard."

"Oh," she breathes as though the thought had never even occurred to her. “What - what are you doing here?”

“Apparently stopping you from losing a couple teeth,” he answers.

She comes to a little more and looks around, apparently noticing the crowd watching them. “You, uh...you can put me down,” she says, squirming a little. He does carefully, but her legs shake when she gets to the floor, and her knees almost buckle, so he scoops her back up. “Lenny!”

“You finally get me to carry you, and you complain about it?” He teases as he heads for the backstage area. “Besides, I’d guess the last time this floor was cleaned was around three years ago. I was cleaned just this morning.”

Midge rolls her eyes but laughs quietly as he brings her into the dressing room, setting her down on the couch. “Quite the reunion,” she quips as he gets her a glass of water from the sink. Their fingers brush as he hands it to her. She looks up at him in consideration as she sips. “Lucky you happened to be at this gig,” she comments.

“Yeah,” he replies stiffly. “Lucky.”

She’s still looking at him, and she cocks her head. “Except this isn’t the first time you’ve been to my show in the last few weeks,” she says. “Or the second or third.”

He sighs and then shakes his head. “No, it’s not,” he admits.

“You’re a very bad hider,” she tells him. “It’s the laugh.”

He shrugs, taking the chair at the vanity. “Can’t help it. You’re funny,” he reasons.

“And you have a very dumb laugh.”

He laughs - dumbly - and nods. “Yes, I do,” he agrees, covering his mouth with his fingers. “So...wanna tell me what this is all about?”

“I’ve been working,” she answers, looking at her glass. “That’s what you wanted me to do, right?

“Yeah, but maybe you could’ve eaten? Slept?” He offers. “When I told you to work, I didn’t mean to death.”

She huffs in annoyance. “You told me I would break your heart,” she says. “So either I had to work or risk hurting someone I care about.”

Lenny leans his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to meet her gaze. This woman...this incredible woman is so incredibly frustrating. The way she can get so hyper focused is baffling to him. “Midge, you’ve got a ton of people who care about you - who need you. You’re no good to any of us if you’re in a fucking coma.”

“When I do things, I do them one hundred percent,” she argues. “I wasn’t going to half-ass this.”

“I’m not saying half-ass, Midge! I’m saying that if you don’t start taking care of yourself, you’re gonna burn out before anyone gets the chance to see how amazing you are.”

“Take care of myself?” She asks. “That’s pretty rich coming from you.”

He sets his jaw. She really is a dog with a bone. “This isn’t about me - ”

“Because I’m not allowed to care about you?” She challenges with an arched brow. “Because you’re the only one allowed to give unwarranted advice? I didn’t ask for your help, Lenny. I didn’t ask for you to give me a wake up call.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to let you stay on this path until you plotz?”

“No.” She replies primly, and the self-satisfied smirk on her lips lets him know he’s been trapped into having the conversation he’s been avoiding for as long as he’s been in love with her.

“I’m fine, Midge,” he tells her.

“Taken any naps on the sidewalk lately?”

“There’s this delightful little dumpster off Union Square,” he quips, and she rolls her eyes, clearly not finding his self-deprecation charming.

She puts her glass down and crosses her arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “This relationship goes both ways. Regardless of where we end up, I get to care about you,” she tells him stubbornly.

“I never said you couldn’t,” he replies.

“Just that we can’t talk about it.” Midge stands then on more sure footing.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Home,” she spits, grabbing her coat and pulling it on. “I’m tired, and this conversation isn’t going anywhere, so I’m leaving.”

“Midge, come on. You almost passed out ten minutes ago.”

She grabs her purse off the vanity. “And I don’t think arguing with the last man who was inside me is helping.” She turns to go, but Lenny takes her hand gently but still firmly enough to stop her. At first she just stands there, looking at the door, but then she turns slowly, looking at their joined hands, and he watches her anger deflate. “Lenny...”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Midge,” he promises as her fingers wrap around his hand. “I just want you to be okay.”

She nods slowly. “And I want you to be okay,” she whispers, and he watches her blink back tears when she finds his gaze. “I need you to be okay,” she corrects a short moment later.

Lenny stands then, pulling her into his arms and hugging her. She rests her head against his chest and hugs him around the waist. “I promise I’ll be okay,” he whispers into her hair. If he’d said this yesterday, it would have been a lie, but seeing how much she cares for him, seeing how stubborn she is about it, he knows he’s damn well going to try.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers, and he feels dampness through his shirt from her tears.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of her shampoo filling his senses. “Let’s get you home,” he murmurs.

She nods but doesn’t let go. He doesn’t either.

[liskantope]

I'm getting pretty irritated at how Freddie deBoer is discussing and handling the issue of large proportions of his comments sections revolving around vaguely anti-LGBTQ views. I'm sympathetic to him in having to deal with the general dilemma of attracting an audience whose views on certain culture war topics tilt in a direction that he finds offensive, or that he doesn't want to have on the face of his blog. (Scott Alexander also had to struggle with this, at least in the earlier Slate Star Codex years.) But I find myself shaking my head at the way FdB is scolding and disciplining his audience about this and right now am inclined to say that it's the wrong approach and that a good bit of FdB's framing is unfair here.

First of all, there's a stigma in general against talking too much about culture war stuff, one which I've internalized myself and struggled with, and in the end I'm not sure the stigma makes sense. Certain topics become culture-warlike in the first place precisely because people care a whole lot about them, because they stoke strong emotions, so why should we be shamed for continuing to care and be emotional about them? I'm tempted to posit that the stigma is a subtly misplaced aversion to getting bogged down in toxic discourse where debaters because of their emotions too often in practice argue in a really low-quality and unconstructive way.

Secondly, FdB himself blogs a ton about culture war stuff! He just avoids certain issues and prefers others. One of the main issues that he's passionate about now is the recent boom in youth mental-illness-happy, diagnosis-happy culture (or at least, that's what he might call it). In his earlier months ranting about this on his blog, a number of commentators chose to take note of some very obvious parallels between what he was pointing out and what appears to be happening with a boom in young people identifying as transgender (note: by "very obvious parallels", I don't mean "absolute parallels" or "without room to rebut by pointing out very salient differences"). Many of the commentators, by being pretty passionately on the side of those issues that is most analogous to FdB's side of the mental illness cultural issue, chose to devolve the comments threads into long discussions about it. FdB decried it as creating an unfriendly environment for trans readers, made vague blanket statements about supporting trans and other LGBTQ rights, ducked addressing the parallels others noted between the opposing views and FdB's views on mental illness stuff, and forbade the topic of transgender youth culture from being discussed going forward.

Commenters mostly stuck to this rule. The comments section of the recent post about drag culture seems to be an unfortunate flagrant exception (you have to dig into the comments a bit, but not terribly far). So I do get why FdB is upset.

But... his characterization of commenters ranting about gender culture war issues -- that they have an unhealthy obsession and would turn any debate about any topic at all however dry into an excuse to rant about gender stuff -- seems way off base to me in multiple ways. First of all, he's angry because commenters started talking about gender stuff in the comments section to a post about the normalization of drag culture which discussed the recent trend of taking kids to drag shows. There is not exactly far for them to reach to get to their favorite topic! And I've never seen them reach from, say, tax cuts for the rich to trans issues (as FdB likes to claim they would when mocking them).

Secondly, I think it's pretty mean to insinuate that they (and conservatives in general, which he lumps them in with, even though my impression is that many of them aren't particularly conservative) are obsessed with gender to the point of it being a mental health problem. His general way of framing it takes only one side's behavior into consideration. You would think that the segment of youth culture in favor of focusing on gender-as-whatever-you-feel-it-to-mean and tons of gender identity labels and so forth is passionate about this in a "proportionate" (to use Freddie's term) way. Has he seen Tumblr? Has he considered the trans activist segment of the current "woke" social movement and its push to incorporate it into our culture? That's a dumb question, of course: he just wrote a post on it, or the part of it having to do with drag shows becoming normalized/sanitized/corporatized -- that is a part of basically said movement promoting trans activism (again, it wasn't exactly a far reach for commenters to jump within it). There is a major subset of the "woke" culture warriors who are visibly passionate about gender issues to the point that the more extreme ones seem obsessive, and there is a major subset of the "anti-woke" culture warriors who are visibly passionate against what they feel are harmful changes the other side is trying to impose to the point that the more extreme ones seem obsessive. (For example, Hasbro bothered to decide and announce that Mr. Potato Head is gender nonbinary, and conservative outlets took the trouble to sneer and whine about it. To me, this is a clear instance of both sides being obsessive. I'm not saying equally in the right -- I'm much more on Hasbro's side here -- just obsessive. I would have to argue that Hasbro has closer to the right idea rather than just point at the Fox News side and say, "Look how freaked out they're getting over a stupid potato toy, lol!".) It's pretty narrow-sighted to point to one side appearing obsessed without realizing that a culture war, or any war really, is about actions and roughly equal reactions happening on both sides.

(Also, more minor point: if you look at individuals in these comments section back-and-forths, rather than considering the comments section as a whole, I find it easy to empathize with them as each simply writing a few long comments thoroughly expounding a point of view, then naturally wanting to respond a couple of times once someone has pushed back on it. Which is... all pretty normal behavior for someone who cares enough and has thought enough about a topic to feel like commenting on it under a blog post and responding to pushback. It doesn't, on the individual level, come across to me as an unrelenting obsession, at least not with most of the commenters?)

I get that FdB wants to be an ally of LGBTQ people and doesn't want his comments sections to turn into a place that might feel hostile to many or most of them. I'd like to feel that my attitude would be similar if I ran a blog like his. I don't know exactly how someone in this position should deal with this, given that a lot of the controversial-among-progressives views he does espouse have, as I've said, pretty obvious parallels to certain other views that run counter to today's LGBTQ-activist model of gender and society. Naturally a lot of his audience is going to make those connections either way (and even some LGBTQ members of his audience might also be unorthodox in their views on some of their community's activist rhetoric and gender views, I'd tend to imagine some would be!).

One thing that occurs to me he could do is ban all comments that he deems unnecessarily aggressive, hostile, sarcastic, sneering towards LGBTQ issues, etc. -- in other words, gross, mean comments. When banning discussion of trans issues, for instance, he cited a commenter calling women's prisons an "all-you-can-rape buffet" for trans women. This comment is really gross, and in a way that's completely unnecessary to the discussion. So ban those comments and the commenters who make them. In other words, follow Scott Alexander's original maxim that SSC comments should satisfy at least two of the qualities of being true, necessary, and kind. The "all-you-can-rape buffet" comment, even if true in the mind of the commenter, very clearly was neither necessary nor kind. Sure there will always be some subjectivity in what "kind" entails, so it's not a perfect system. And ironically, Scott did eventually have to override this criterion for admitting comments and just start banning people who turned every single discussion into an excuse to propagandize neoreaction (remember when that was a thing?). So I don't know.

What I do feel fairly sure about is that FdB is not ultimately doing his cause favors by avoiding addressing what much of his audience sees as parallels between some of his views and the views he's banning on in his comments section. FdB just characterized his views on all LGBTQ issues and the current standard progressive ones as having no daylight between them. Yet, for instance, when asked about teenagers being put on gender-related medical treatments, he says things like he has to be agnostic because he doesn't know enough about that type of medicine, reversibility, etc. Which, fine, I'm basically agnostic too, for similar reasons. But he can't with a sweep of his hand declare himself completely in line with today's progressive Left on gender stuff (while being extremely critical of that same subculture on other, not entirely unrelated, things) and keep being vague when pressed on what he actually thinks about the gender stuff, without coming across as disingenuous. His occasional repeated proclamations of "I'm completely supportive of all transgender and queer activist issues [with a few extremely vague embellishments and minor qualifications]" in place of engaging in a discussion about why, say, his views on the social contagion aspect of the youth's mental illness culture do not imply an analogous criticism of the subculture focused on gender identity, honestly makes it appear that he is hiding something about his true views. In fact, it looks a lot like FdB doesn't feel like dealing with the backlash that would come his way if he fully exposed what his true views are.

Or to put it another way, I would like to see FdB actually address the reasons why young people over-diagnosing themselves with mental illnesses is distinct in a salient way from the boom among young people in identifying as transgender. Presumably he thinks such a rebuttal to the alleged parallels exists, so why does he appear to be strenuously ducking the question? I'm genuinely curious as to how he really makes these distinctions. And who knows, maybe whatever arguments he could put forth would nudge some of his more devoted readers into being more pro-trans-rights!

Instead, it really sort of comes across that ironically, the man who recently wrote "Be Independent -- No, Not Like That!", who happily embraces one side of the political spectrum while strenuously criticizing much of the rhetoric/narrative that comes out of the associated tribe and even celebrates his intellectual right to do this, is also someone who shuts down his commenters from strenuously criticizing a different strain of the rhetoric/narrative that comes from that tribe because, you see, he disagrees with and is offended by that other form of criticism. ("Be critical of today's progressive culture even if you're otherwise progressive yourself -- no, not like that!")

Uncharitable, I know, and looking at it another way I want to see FdB as just someone who likes the LGBTQ community and is simply concerned about not alienating it. Gaah.

[webbywatcheshorror]

Webby Reviews Horror: The Night They Knocked (2019)

The Night They Knocked is about a group of friends who are spending one last weekend together at a remote summer home in the woods before they graduate college and part ways, but their plans are disrupted by a knock on the door.

 This movie is an hour and a halfish and I gotta say I only enjoyed a few minutes of it. I can’t recall exactly why this one had been on my watchlist, but I’m willing to bet Whatculture Horror had something to do with it. 

Review under the cut, and as always, SPOILERS AHEAD!

Let me preface this with some honesty: I am only reviewing this so that I don’t only limit myself to covering movies I enjoyed. It didn’t leave much of a lasting impression when I watched it the first time, and the second viewing only really highlighted things about it that annoyed me. So let’s dive in.

The opening of this movie is pretty promising, if longer than it needed to be. The establishing shot of the house in the wood takes several seconds that I suppose are intended to raise tension and discomfort, but it. Just doesn’t. And listen. I grew up in a house in the woods. I can promise you that hearing a knock at the door without first having heard the sound of a vehicle is intensely alarming- but the nameless First Kill doesn’t seem at all perturbed.

There are several shots in this opening sequence that seem to serve no purpose beyond padding the runtime and showing that First Kill is alone and can expect no rescue from neighbors, as there aren’t any. These shots persist throughout the movie with very few actually seeming to add anything to it- more on that later.

I did like the fact that the off screen brutality took place during full daylight- the sounds of First Kill’s scream and assumed murder playing over the image of a cheery, sunshine-filled home is a delightful and underutilized dichotomy in the horror genre imo. Daylight is supposed to be one of the safe havens, right up there with covering yourself completely with a blanket. I really do wish the rest of the movie had followed suit and kept the timing, but it doesn’t. In fact most of the ending sequence is near pitch black and I couldn’t see shit.

As the opening credits play, a car radio gives us some plot updates as we are introduced to some of our main characters driving out to join the rest of the cast. We are supposed to believe that these people are best friends, and have been for years, but never once do I get that vibe at all. Maybe it’s just the bad dialogue, maybe it’s the less than stellar acting, but you could have told me these were four people who were forced to spend time together as a punishment of some sort and I would have bought that explanation.

There is a lot of interpersonal drama we suffer through for the entire first half of the movie. There are six friends who are all paired off, plus the brother of one of the guys; I could not find myself caring about any of them except possibly one of the couples and the ex-convict brother. It’s never explicitly stated, but I get the distinct feeling that these are all rich kids who are used to a cushy, privileged life. Maybe it’s because at their final hurrah party, these college kids get wasted on wine and weed only. Maybe it’s just the unrealistic way these characters behave/are written.

Things really don’t start popping off until somewhere around minute 43, and until then we are treated to unending and perplexing drama, more lingering shots on the environment, and a few short scenes from the POV of the intruders complete with unsettling heavy breathing and sinister whispering.

I keep complaining about the drama because in the end, almost none of it becomes at all relevant or is even ever brought up again. For example, one girl cheated on her boyfriend and might be pregnant- she never tells him. I had expected her to let it slip and then it causes him to let her die in a moment of weakness, but no. It goes nowhere and really only served to make me like her less.

These ‘friends’ are all so incredibly quick to get hostile with one another. They’re instantly suspicious of offhand comments and seem to jump at the chance to misinterpret each other. I feel like if they’d framed the group as a bunch of people who were friends in name only, but actually ready to sell each other to Satan for one corn chip, it would have worked so much better and been far more believable than what we got.

Anyway, shit goes turnways with a pretty decent scene of one of the girls upstairs crying in the bathroom before getting grabbed by an unseen intruder behind the shower curtain- a nice way to introduce the concept that they’re not alone in the house, and we get our first taste of the violence to come since First Kill’s demise. Sadly, we get little more than nibbles for the rest of the movie.

In short order, two of the friends (and the ones with the least amount of Assholery in their personalities) are taken out by a man in clown facepaint and wielding a metal bat. Their quick deaths aren’t all that disappointing, as they weren’t really very focused on to begin with. Clownboy taunts the friends who are left alive, locked inside the house with no way to call for help, while his friend Pretty Dress leaves his bloody handprints on the backdoor.

Clownboy is immediately more interesting to me than the entire rest of the cast, even including the ex-con brother, and honestly I’m disappointed it took so long for him to show up. He’s unhinged and clearly enjoying himself while he inflicts physical and emotional damage on the group. I really liked the energy he brought to the movie and feel like he could have redeemed it, had he been given more screentime.

The remaining deaths are quick and largely unseen, and we find that there’s more than just Clownboy and Pretty Dress- there’s an entire circus of these clowns just itching for some ultraviolence. We never find out what their motivations are, but as one of the characters muses, ‘They don’t need a reason’. I do wish we’d gotten this from the painted mouth of Clownboy, but the closest we get is him chanting ‘I love it’ while slowly strangling one of the group before being bonked to death by his own bat.

The ending is left open, but it’s very likely that neither of the two surviving protagonists make it out alive given just how many clowns they’re surrounded by. As endings go, it’s pretty dull, but honestly I’m not sure how else they could have ended the film. 

This movie makes me want to do a complete rewrite of the story, with more emphasis placed on the psychological aspects of being trapped in a house by menacing strangers. I’d also at least use some of the interpersonal issues and hostility of the friend group to heighten the tension and pit them against one another; I’d also use those long, lingering environment shots to hint at the terror to come. I am not, however, a scriptwriter, so maybe someone will remake this movie in about six years and have some similar ideas.

The Night They Knocked ultimately left me disappointed and a little bored, to be quite honest. I didn’t really feel sympathy for the characters, the deaths were lackluster, and it felt like a lot of it was only there to keep it from being a short film. It did have some enjoyable parts and an intriguing villain, so it wasn’t a total waste of time.

Giving this one 4 out of 10 ghosts, as I did at least like the opening and overall concept, but I can’t really recommend it, except for maybe the scene where Clownboy shoves an eight ball down a girl’s throat so she asphyxiates to death. I’d have given it a higher score if there had been at least one knock knock joke, but alas. Clownboy just isn’t a funny guy.

[baltimorebullets]

spent the first ten tracks eyes watering like haha you’re not going to make me cry today tyler and then i get to like “like him” and hahahahaha. oh boy. as always i am so deeply and fundamentally unwell. don’t read unless you want to idk

so, like, even before i had any lefty conception of The Necessity Of The Nuclear Family Is A Myth Propagated By Big Het, i was firmly in the camp that The Tragedy of the Fatherless was greatly exaggerated, like, look how yours fucked you up, why would i ever want—

okay deeper than that. when my mom was registering me for kindergarden she was complaining about the amount of paperwork that goes into childrearing and i said, “i guess i’m not having kids then” and she had paused and said “it’s more complicated than that” except it never got more complicated than that. i spent my entire childhood as an albatross around my family’s neck and having to pay for it. and from there it’s like— i don’t know if it was a poverty thing, don’t look rich people, or a self-selecting traumatized kids can only deal with other traumatized kids (or normal kids can’t deal with traumatized kids, or traumatized kids can’t deal with normal kids—), but it wasn’t just my house that was fucked up, for everyone i knew, parenting was synonymous with neglect and fear and anger and violence. so the math was simple. i was grateful that my father wasn’t around, that he knew this gig wasn’t for him, that i didn’t have to pay for it, and that, for at the curses having a uterus brings upon me, parenthood is not a choice or possibility that exists outside of me.

another angle of childhood insight into parenting: once again, me, my mom, get it together (beastie boys). The N Word came up. my mom asked what i thought about it. i said it had nothing to do with me. that whole scene. culture, was probably the word i was looking for. it’s very tempting to whitewash, haha, the antiblackness from how i felt back then; the sanitized version is that i felt that, if my father was scottish or polish or lithuanian or any other thing that would have kept me pale, then i wouldn’t have to Deal With It. it being any number of alienations from my peers and what was expected from me and what looked back at me in the mirror.

all of this is very intellectualized. i just felt guilty, disgusting, evil, repulsive, you know, the usual mindset for something like goblin (2011) to be in any way soothing.

but then. haha i’m SICK of GROWING UP WITH YOU TYLER it was cute when we were JUST GETTING GAY.

so obviously being an antinatalist doja cat isn’t, like, a good look past the age of 13. or, it was also bad then, but that’s growing up. dealing with shit. whatever.

so fresh out of college i took a job working with The Youths even though i very badly wanted nothing to do with children ever. which is where i learned that happy children that people care about, like, exist. so i tried very hard to be another halfway decent person in these kids lives, and found it wasn’t particularly difficult, and that i couldn’t imagine treating any of them how i was treated, not even the annoying ones, and cried in my car about it all pretty frequently. so maybe it was less that i hate kids, and more that i’m terrified of how vulnerable they are, and i don’t fully trust myself around them. because of the evil. you know.

and like. okay. rewind again. “i killed you” is actually where i started to lose the battle against the 😭. god. i mean, first off, i cannot even explain how much i hated dealing with my hair as a kid. just so much literal pain. while watching the buffalo bills lose. god in heaven. but to take it to the metaphorical— jesus christ. well. i mean we can keep talking about hair. the fact that wash-and-go is kind of my only option; that the fact it’s never been straightened isn’t a win again eurocentric beauty standards but inability, and i don’t know how to find The Dominicans Who Would Get Me Right, and also i don’t want to anymore, but also everything else is a wall too high for me to climb, mostly because it’s embarrassing. humiliating. et cetera. i can recognize objectively that a lot of the shame i carry around isn’t necessarily my fault, but not being black enough, for real, i didn’t choose to kill that part of me, but—

so there’s an amiri baraka quote i heard sampled in a song the other day—

But the minute you put yourself away from people, no matter how backward and corny you might think they are [EDITOR’S NOTE: i am], then you are isolated, standing there by yourself, and you will get killed.

You will get killed, and it’s not about being killed. Liberation is not about being killed, we ain’t interested in no suicide. We want to live. We want to live a new life.

INTERLUDE: BLACK IN BUFFALO

so baraka is like. lmao. not my favorite black thinker. but he taught at UB. and so did lucille clifton, whose won’t you celebrate with me is often on my mind. as a matter of fact, she was born there. and however extremely racist the region is, it’s also annoying when Outsiders like. round down. and ignore its whole function of like The Post Priced Out Of The Downstate Tri-State Area.

but really i want to talk about westside gunna who reminded of a story my mom once told me, about how her friend once ventured to westside buffalo, except her boyfriend had her hide in his car, on account of her being white. and i was just like. damn. and then you had that man’s kid. crazy stuff.

END

anyway. so i’m supposed to love myself or whatever. at least understand better. and it keeps dragging me back to this root i’ve ignored my whole life—

How could I ever miss a chance that I never had?

Mama, I’m chasing a ghost

I don’t know who he is

Mama, I’m chasing a ghost

I don’t know where he is

Mama, I’m chasing a ghost

Do I look like—

except i know exactly who and where that motherfucker is. and i don’t fucking look like him, i look like a black version of my mom. i look like a lot of people. i look like the sisters i begged for as a kid, and it turns out they were a one hour drive away. they’ve reached out before. one time, my grandma — i hadn’t known we met, but she had a toddler photo of me in her arms — said, “you should know you have a big family that loves you and prays for you.” and i didn’t respond. during the pandemic, my father tried again, sending a photo of my grandmother on her deathbed, telling me how important it would be to her if i reached out. like. motherfucker. motherfucker, you left me there. you let this be what family — what having a black family — means to me. nothing is the only safe option. anything else isn’t a risk so much as a guarantee. there are no upsides.

my grandmother didn’t actually die, by the way. it was just a threat, i guess, because he thought i’m a guilt trip amateur or some shit. motherfucker.

anyway, maybe i don’t want kids for normal reasons. it’s probably even likely; people have come from worse and didn’t lose that desire. like, fuck, i’m talking like i don’t know i’m saying the same shit a million other people have said about their own deeply varied situations, people who i’ve been friends with and who have supported me and who live fulfilled lives, and i knowww the my own mindset is my real krypotine but like. shit. how am i supposed to know. how the hell am i supposed to find my way back home. i’m really trying. it really really really feels like i’ve already been kicked out and robbed of something precious and irreplaceable on the way out.