#i deserve the fame . or like at least for people to see them and reblog with stuff like ''so true op'' and ''op your mind is huge''

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

i think that every time i make a post and think wow this should get a billion note it should get like. at least a thousand

[existslikepristin]

Okay, so I had someone send me an ask last night and now I've been thinking about it all day. It wasn't anonymous, which I appreciate, but I'm not responding to it directly for because

I reached out already to say I'd do some editing, and I've let them know the rest of what I'm about to rant on below, but I want to make sure at least a few more people see this

I flip flop around on how to say this shit all the time. Like, do I say that everyone's a good writer in their own special way? Do I say that you don't need likes and reblogs for validation? I don't fucking know what to say except for maybe one more thing that I'll reiterate until the day I die with various embellishments that will fade in and out

You. Yes you, the person who's reading this who is also a writer/aspiring writer. Come closer. We share a bond, you and I, so really get in physically close

Art can't be contained, you scrunge

If you don't think whatever you're creating is art, go to a damn museum. Or do a virtual tour. Or google the phrase "modern art". It doesn't matter. You're going to see some shit in there that, I would hope, makes you think the artist was a dipwad

I'm ranting more than I thought I would. Here's a keep reading line

You know who fucking sucks at art? Pablo Picasso.

Look at this absolute pile of bullshit, then look me in the eye, and tell me this isn't the colorized manifestation of an elementary school dropout's Wattpad account

"But ELP, Picasso demonstrated actual working knowledge of anatomy. This is just his AbstRACt sTyLe"

SHUT UP. Nobody asked you, Barbara

Picasso, Piet Mondrian, Andy Warhol. Their artworks are money laundering schemes. Their fame doesn't come from their talent. It comes from obscenely rich people trading blood diamond money for crisp, clean, still-fake money by claiming that poor people "don't get it"

And yet, despite popular opinions being developed because of ridiculous sums of money being pegged up these guys' assholes, artists today still find meaning in their works, tunneling straight through their cognitive dissonance to tell themselves that, no, I actually enjoy staring at blocks of washed out color until my retinas have burnt in just the right spots that I can see an actual human face because an art teacher once told me that these pictures got the most likes on the pre-internet Tumblr

Does that mean people don't actually like this art? Am I trying to tell you you shouldn't like this art? Maybe, but then you'd be obligated to remind me that Churchgirleum Yawjinius is a disgusting assault on your imagination and yet has as many likes as Definitely Real Medicine, which you wouldn't believe was actually written with all the earnestness my void of a chest cavity could muster

Take it from someone who willingly threw away the opportunity for automatic dozens of reblogs and hundreds of likes per post by telling people to fuck themselves (and still gets a bunch for some reason):

The validation is cool, but it's not worth it

The validation does not define what is good or not

What is good or not doesn't even matter

You're not going to make money off this shit

Someone who is genuinely terrible is going to get more validation than you, and is going to flaunt it in your face, and their writing is still somehow going to mean something to way too many people, and it doesn't matter because their soul is just as unfulfilled by the validation as yours is unfulfilled by the lack of it

What is fulfilling is doing something because you can

You are your only source of real validation, no matter what fuzzy dopamines you get from the vapid click of a like button

Oh, and if you do get the validation of Tumblr notes, that doesn't mean your work is shit or you don't deserve love or whatever. Accept it graciously because it's definitely not uncool that people like your shit, but recognize that it's not going to cure your depression

Art is art. We can look at Roman columns and marvel at how their art built modern civilization (though the Romans can fuck themselves IMO (oh wait they literally did haha)), but did it really? Art makes otherwise brutalist architecture tolerable, but the curly Qs at the bases and tops of columns isn't what kept the coliseum from collapsing on thousands of people watching live murder

If you have a story that has overstayed its welcome in your head and needs to be on paper or on a screen, then write the fucking story. Nobody actually cares about the qUaLiTy of your spelling or grammar. They care about being given permission to think about Karina's tits. Do you think their opinion matters?! I mean, they may have great contributions to make on their own, and they should have voting rights, and it's chill if they have something nice to say to you, but the point is that they're already thinking about Karina's tits regardless of your writing. They're just your thralls to manipulate into thinking about Karina's tits in the way that you, the all-powerful artist, want them to think about Karina's tits. If they try to tell you "Karina's tits would have tan lines" then write a whole fic about how Karina is a nudist and has a perfectly even tan, and who's going to argue about it? The idiot who wrote a pedantic comment? No! It's YOU. THE ALL-FUCKING-POWERFUL ARTIST WHO ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING TO PROVE YOUR POINT WHETHER OR NOT IT IS CORRECT

If you're an artist, then fucking act like one. Embrace the chaos inherent in creativity. Maybe gentleman is vampire. The poison contains joy. We exist in these devastating, beautiful worlds of contradiction in which we hate people and how lonely we are, we crave kindness and embody violence, and we beg the universe to give us direction despite knowing full well that we're going to zigzag between paths. Maybe you relate. Maybe you don't. THAT'S THE POINT. You're not right. I'm not right. We both write (wow, bars)

I keep saying that everyone should just write, and it's not because I think everyone is secretly a good writer. It's because someone out there needs permission to write after being told their entire lives that their value lies in A, or they're not good if B by all the non-artists in who genuinely don't understand why someone needs to make something impractical to begin the infinitely long road to completion

The dumb fucks who don't understand want to contain you because it's in their nature to desire order. They like to come up with metrics to categorize what counts as art and what doesn't so they can change the rules on you. Chaos always wins though

So WRITE. The world doesn't need your artistry. YOU DO. If you write a bunch of shit and people like it but you quit anyway or nobody likes it and you quit, then idk. Maybe you weren't an artist in the first place, which is perfectly fine, or maybe you're giving your corporate overlords too much control over your mind. If you're an artist, you'll burn with the need to create, no matter how much you create. If you feel that, keep writing

[starburstfloat]

so i saw your tags on that reblogged post about hybe and removing the k from kpop, and i'm super interested in hearing your thoughts! and yeah i do agree that bts' music in recent years has lost a lot of what makes it unique :/

Oh I'd love to chat about it - thanks for giving me the opportunity to share more of my thoughts!

For those who don't know, we're referencing this opinion piece article that discusses, in an appropriately scathing tone, how bang pd/hybe executives are leading kpop to its demise by making poor creative choices for their artists (mostly BTS, but whoever comes after will evidently be affected by their creative decisions). Namely, releasing superficial bland pop music, in the attempt to remove the K from Kpop and make the genre more global and palatable for all audiences; essentially, taking away Kpop's core essence to appeal to the US music market.

Having been an avid kpop fan since 2010, and more of an observant media/pop culture enthusiast since 2016, the westernization of the genre doesn't come as a surprise to me. What does surprise me though are the masses of BTS army, whose demographic comprises the largest share of Hybe fans, who avidly support this trend. It's a reason I found myself getting distant to the fandom since the release of Butter, since the mere suggestion that BTS were losing their creative identity garnered hoards of angry responses of people retaliating with "well it's good they're getting the recognition they deserve!" and "it's catchy music for the radio, why would you be upset?"

I think what a lot of people who support Hybe's decision are missing here is that most of us don't really care if the lyrics are changed from Korean to English - if it's a good song, I don't care what language it's in. But that's not what bang pd means when he suggests removing the K from Kpop. He's removing the entire sound of kpop and, with most Korean artists not lyrically skilled enough to write their own verses in English, which will be the dominant language going forward for title tracks (at least for now; this may change as new waves of trainees and more stringently enforced English lessons hit the writing room), we're going to see most Kpop songs no longer written or produced by the members of the groups.

It's a bit ironic, since that's what kpop grew to embrace in third gen, especially with BTS's penmanship getting recognition from fans and non fans alike. BTS rose to fame for their authenticity, their songs crafted from personal experiences and imagination, and that's what attracted so many people to them, myself included. They had something meaningful to say. Then when they rose to popularity, the goal became to become as marketable as possible, and we witness a complete creative downfall at the start of the dynamite era, what the author of the article dubs the English Trilogy.

I could even look past the superficiality of a track if it's able to become something noteworthy or iconic. Consider the success of GIDLE's Queencard - a title track that rocks lyrics like "I'm hot, my boob and bootie's hot, spotlight, I'm Star Star Star". It completely dominated Korea's music charts this year, and saw success internationally too. Why? Firstly, the title references a well established Korean slang word (calling someone a King or Queencard in correlation to their cool aura). Secondly, it doesn't take itself too seriously. GIDLE said, Here's a camp song for the girls and the gays and delivered, without slapping on some forced heartfelt deeper meaning. Thirdly, the music video, from the styling and choreography, draws artistic inspiration from early 2000s films like Mean Girls and White Chicks - a creative choice that enhances the comical and vibrant tone of the track. Lastly, Queencard is so undeniably kpop - from the song structure, the vocal blending, the bridge, the choreo - it's kpop perfection. Is it a basic pop track? Yes, absolutely. But it's also bigger than that, for all the reasons I just mentioned, so it's a shame that hybe, in its pursuit of monopolizing the industry, sees something like that and goes, how about we just strip kpop of all its fun parts and give audiences the blandest cardboard cereal blend they've ever tasted? Evidently Jungkook's solo album Golden was this very attempt to experiment with a solely western style, detract from the vibrancy or intensity of what kpop was before. Where's the artistic charm in that? It's disappeared.

I guess it all comes down to the fact that hybe, and at this point we can assume the bangtan members too (since I don't subscribe to the "bang pd evil, members get no say in decisions" narrative that some people suggest) aren't concerned with the meaning behind their craft anymore, just the money.

It's a bit infuriating because I, and assumedly thousands of others who have been part of the kpop wave long before BTS's rise to fame, would happily pay big money to see live music from acts currently releasing quality music. But I guess that requires more effort, and for hybe that's the least of their concern.

[youjustgotxfiled]

Hey, everybody! I've finally gotten around to starting to upload my own works on this hellsite! :D

This one's dedicated to all the Amphibia and Sashannarcy fans out there, as well as to everyone who deals with trauma, CPTSD, anxiety, depression, and other mental & emotional conditions and disorders, as well as to everyone in the LGBTQ community at large. You are ALL warriors who deserve the best out of life.

This piece was written between May and November of 2022, but is only being uploaded here now because a) I wanted to run it through beta readers to feel confident enough to post it, and b) I wanted to make sure my AO3 and DeviantArt accounts got their uploads going first.

If you like what you see here, feel free to like, reblog, and share with everyone! Any and all engagement helps me out a ton (especially the reblogs XD).

Story for Chapter 1 below the cut for those unable to access the link above.

************************************************************************

You are invited to: THE BEST FAMILY DINNER EVER!

You’d recognize that script anywhere. The kind of writing that can come from just one colleague of yours: the inimitable Marcy.

You’ve known each other for a fair bit now; ever since Marcy moved back to Los Angeles and took a job in your studio three years ago, you’ve have been quite the talk of the town as perhaps the two lone people ever to have gotten more than five words out of each other in any given conversation. Not that either of you mind too much—being both introverts and nerds helps you be that much more attuned to each other’s needs and interests, to say nothing of the ease with which each’s rapt attention to the ramblings of the other helps block out the surrounding office gawking and gossip. After all, both of you are very much used to it by this point in your lives. 

Still, this invitation comes as a surprise. For one thing, Marcy is not one to talk about her private life or after-work plans much, and neither are you. For another, one of the few things she has revealed is that she’s married to a pair of women, and not just any pair: they’re Anne and Sasha Boonchuy-Plantar, famed heroes and defenders of Earth from the attempted “Frogvasion” over ten years ago. Though you haven’t said as much to Marcy, you’re filled with all sorts of weird emotions at the mention of their names. Excitement, fear, curiosity, and longing all collide within you, TV and social-media images and sounds of that day—of THEM, at their most fierce and intimidating—bouncing around in your mind, leaving much more space than is comfortable to wonder how much of it carries over, then or now, into their private lives.

How similar it makes them to…well, them.

No, you think. Your hands are beginning to tremble, your breathing becoming tougher to do. Not them. PLEASE not them. Not right now.

You put the invitation card down on your desk, gripping your hands against the front edge to steady them and not tip off any snooping passers-by. For a long moment, you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, hoping the serrated pattern it takes on when you get like this isn’t loud enough for anyone to hear it. After a shake of your head for good measure, you open your eyes again. 

“Heeey!”

You jump in your seat, and it’s all you can do not to scream. At least your hands have stopped trembling. You can’t say the same for your breathing, however. 

“Oh my frog, I’m SO sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Marcy says as you turn your head to see her standing next to you. Her hands are covering her mouth, and her brows are furrowed upward. Uh oh. Better make a quick cover.

“No worries, Marcy! I was, uh…just kinda tunneling on this frame, is all,” you reply. You throw in a sheepish laugh and grin for good measure, hoping to God—excuse you, FROG—that she buys it. “You know how I get with that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yeah! I’m the same way when I get SUPER-invested in something,” says Marcy. She flaps her hands to accentuate her words, a trait you find makes you smile. For a moment, you wonder if Anne and Sasha react the same way about it, too, though the chill coming up your spine and settling in your stomach at the mere thought of them prompt you to shove the question aside and turn your attention back to the still-chatting Marcy. 

“—so she was thinking that we should sub it out for roast beef sandwiches, but of COURSE Anne wanted something a little more special than that, so—”

“Marcy,” you say. She quiets right away, noting the tension and uncertainty you’re failing so hard to hide in your voice. “Do…” The names seem a bit too difficult for you to spit out, so you opt for the next best descriptor. “Do your wives know you’re planning all this?”

“Of course they do,” Marcy replies. She tilts her head with a confused look. “I’ve been begging for them to put this together with me for at LEAST the last two weeks. I can’t even BEGIN to tell you how many work stories of our convos I’ve shared with them just to get them to let their guard down and be a LITTLE curious about you.”

Let their guard down. Sounds…possessive. That doesn’t bode well. The icy feeling in your stomach begins to swirl. Out of sight—you hope—your grip on the edges of your desk tightens, even as you flash another smile. “Heh, yeah. Probably should have figured that. Sorry for the stupid question, Mar.”

“Oh, no! I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” says Marcy. She looks down for a second, her beautiful smile fading a bit. “Frog knows I’ve hurt them enough with trying to plan stuff behind their backs.”

It’s your turn to shoot Marcy a perplexed look. Hurt? Behind their backs? Whatever in the multiverse could she be referring to? You look down towards the ground for a moment, wheels turning at an even higher speed in your mind. You look back up at Marcy. “Are…are you okay with telling me more about that?”

Marcy emits a sad grin, shaking her head. “No. Not right now, anyway. That stuff’s…pretty private between the three of us.” She looks back up at you. “You ARE super-nice and considerate, though. Maybe one day. When I’m ready. When all three of us are ready.”

When all three of us are ready? Now that’s curious phrasing if you’ve ever heard it. Your pulse begins to quicken, as does your breathing. Your trembling hands are becoming a bit more pronounced, too. Does your possessiveness reading have legs? Maybe accepting this invitation isn’t such a good idea…

You squeeze your eyes shut, gritting your teeth. You exhale in a huff. You’re not letting this fear overtake you again. Not ever again—you let them control you enough as it was then, and you have no intention of ever letting them win. This is YOUR life to live now, dammit!

Right?

You reopen your eyes and shoot an even more exaggerated grin at Marcy than before. It’s crucial that she not see your panic right now. “Fair enough. Perhaps tonight’s dinner will be a start, then.”

Marcy’s eyes widen. She begins to jump, hands flapping a million miles a minute. “EEEEE!” She squeals, all toothy smiles. “I’m SO excited for you to come over! Oh, I can’t WAIT for you to meet the other girls! This’ll be the best guest-dinner EVER!”

************************************************************************

You arrive right on time at six o’clock, though more so because you had trouble finding the right address than out of any sense of precision or punctuality. After all, the directions are but one of several thoughts racing through your mind.

At length, you reach the bottom of the steps leading up to what appears to be a modest suburban house like most others here in Long Beach—small front porch, two stories with a couple of windows apiece, sloping up at the top where the attic might well be. 

You close your eyes, taking one more deep breath. You look down at yourself—not dressed the fanciest in the world, but presentable enough, in your opinion. Plus, you made a point to comb your hair and shower before heading out. Outside, you’re about as good as you’re going to get.

The question, of course, is inside. 

You’ve been running through several scenarios in your mind—or rather, your mind has been running them through you. It’s never been your best friend for most of your life to begin with, but you and it have been on extra bad terms with each other since they tore you to pieces all those years ago. Fear and suspicion have lived so long in your head that they now color your perception of every person who tries to touch you, and these three are no exception. 

First off, Marcy. She’s sweet and all, if a little on the airheaded side of things in spite of her clear exceptional intelligence. Despite your mutual talents for talking each other’s ears off, however, most of your convos never turn to your personal lives, in part because she seems to…well, never want to talk about it. She always tends to look down, or in directions other than your gaze. Like she’s far off from that moment and into one from the distant past. One with a lot of secrets.

Too many secrets.

What do they contain? Do you want to know? Is it something that can hurt you if you don’t? How long do you let her play this out before demanding she come clean? And are you willing to lose her as a friend because of it, like you have so many others--?

You shake your head in a violent motion. You’d better get this show on the road before you change your mind.

You pull out your phone, pulling Marcy’s contact info up. “I’m here!” you text. You add a smiley face for good measure.

A minute passes. Two. You start to wonder if maybe you’ve got the wrong house, after all.

Ding!

“Be ready in five! Just need to finish the main course lol,” Marcy replies. For a moment, you’re confused as to why they don’t just let you in and make you wait in the living room or something. Then comes the second ding! “Still trying to clear the last of the smoke from the oven. Wouldn’t want you to die from carbon-dioxide poisoning before the loves even get to meet you,” she adds, throwing in a sweating-smile emoji for punctuation.

You begin to smile and sweat at the same time, too, though not for the same reasons she is right now. Loves, she called them. And they might be possessive. Which means getting too close to any of them, too quick—but to Marcy in particular—equals a high chance of getting eaten alive by them. In any case, you need to sit down and get your thoughts a hair more together. Strategy was key for a successful night here, after all.

You take a quick glance at the porch, and notice that there’s a swinging chair hanging from the right-hand side of the eaves. Three, maybe four people wide. Perfect. You waste no time in marching up the steps and making yourself comfortable, taking care to keep your toes dug into the wood of the porch floor so that you’re not swinging all over the place. Once you’re settled, the thoughts catch up to you again.

Strategy, comes the first offering from your subconscious. A fitting word for this situation. One an ex-military leader like Sasha would appreciate.

Sasha. Right. The blonde double-sword warrior whose severing of the interdimensional demon’s cord—umbilical? medical? The public debate still raged—was now perhaps the second-most iconic news image in recent memory, of course to Anne—

A full-body shiver strikes you. Not now. Not right this second. And why are you feeling so cold as you’re sweating, anyway? Isn’t it 75 and sunny? You squeeze your eyes shut a moment, then reopen them, determined to keep them on the porch floor for now. Okay. Time to focus.

Determination, your brain titters. And focus, too. I wonder how many more appropriate words we can add to the vocabulary list of Sasha descriptors before we—

“Shut. Up,” you growl. Frog, you wish you could just grab the jokers that liked to snatch the microphone for your thoughts and crucify them against the wall, sometimes. You can dream, can’t you?

Dreams, your mind responds. You’ve been having all SORTS of dreams about Sasha, haven’t you?

Much as you hate to admit it, you have. And many of them haven’t been pleasant.

Ever since the footage of that fateful day was uploaded for all to see and meme, you’ve developed a nasty habit of rewatching it over and over along with millions of others. It’s become a bad combination with your memories of them, but Sasha’s clips, though brief compared to Anne’s, are anything but merciful in how they’ve impacted your psyche. For starters, they helped you develop a deep fear and suspicion of anyone with combat training, in particular those teenaged or older with any kind of military background. For another, one of the few things Marcy has deigned to mention about her wives is that Sasha, like them, seems to have a chronic short fuse even outside of battle, and you know all too well the various kinds of body discoloring that can result from someone with a loose emotional grip. All well and bad, to be sure. But that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is the dreams.

It’s enough of a struggle to get to sleep these days anyway, has been for years. But once sleep comes…the horrors are often indescribable. Them, seeming to save the day and the city from the invasion—and then continuing to kill, and kill, and kill, until you’re the last Angelino standing, begging for mercy and a second chance that will never come. Sasha and them, together, tying you up and forcing you to watch their plans for a dictatorial new world order come into fruition, with your eyes being taped open to deprive you of sleep for good measure. Sasha alone this time, in your house that you bought with your own money, stalking you, beating you with a cup, and then her fists, and then her boots, because it’s just so fun to torture you for being so weak and helpless and not wanting to learn how to fight like she does, then taking the sword from her beltline and tearing your heart out with it, with watching you lose consciousness and your life being so funny to see that she just keeps laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and—

Ding!

“Jesus!” you shout. Your toes lose their grip on the porch floor, and you’re quite certain at least a couple of the neighbors heard you. As you wait for the swing to run its course, you look down. Your upper body is now soaked in sweat. Great. Just great. At least you can use the weather as an excuse, you hope.

The swing comes back to center position, and your breathing has returned to a manageable level. You waste no time checking out the text that startled you from your poisonous reverie.

“Gonna be another 5 before we’re ready, love! SO SO sorry to keep you waiting outside,” it reads, punctuated by a frown. “Smoke alarms going off ALL over the house now, so now we’re trying to keep the food, furniture, AND you from getting soaked. Try and enjoy the sun! Will text again when we’re all done.”

Smoke alarms? You scrunch your face. Then, you hear the faint, shrieking beeps coming from inside, the detector in the living room behind you losing its mind as you felt like you were not a few moments ago. Perhaps that was why you didn’t catch it the first time. And as for poor Marcy…well, she’s confided to you about being a walking disaster before, but this? This is another level. You wonder if these are the kinds of pratfalls Sasha and Anne have to deal with every day. And what their limits are for tolerating it.

More to the point, you wonder about Anne’s limits for tolerating it.

For tolerating you.

Unlike Sasha’s limited footage, Anne’s is so extensive that breakdowns of her fight with the mad King Andrias are plentiful on social media. What that’s meant for you is plentiful opportunities for every punch, kick, shot, and word between the two of them to be burned into your mind. Bad enough that every moment of combat itself raises their specter in your mind, and that the additional sounds of shattered windows, wrecked cars and buildings, and ear-piercing screaming churn your stomach. Even these things, however, pale in comparison to how Anne powers up—and how it all ends.

First, the power-up. By some grace of the multiverse’s cosmic forces, she had—has? —the ability to go from regular, brown-skinned Thai to a glaring, snarling, blue-haired demigod of immense power. The aura itself is intimidating enough, but the changing of her eyes from brown to icy blue is unnerving. And that voice. Oh frog, that voice—a voice at once hers and that of a power far beyond comprehension, one even angels and demons alike would tremble from in fear. Her power in this state is (was?) nothing to sneeze at, either—she could fly, summon swords, dismantle enormous missiles, knock the block off of dozens of robots, take insane physical punishment. All primo nightmare fuel for someone prone to conflating, extrapolating, and associating. But even this—even this—doesn’t stack up to the real reason you can’t sleep at night anymore.

The way the fight ends.

For all the damage and punishment the two dealt Los Angeles and each other up to this point, it was at least comprehensible thanks to its striking similarity to that of a superhero showdown in a Marvel or DC film. Even when Anne, demonic voice and all, began to tear down the leviathan about his inability to open his heart or follow his true feelings, it felt, cruel as it was, familiar enough. Precedent, after all, bred familiarity and minimized shock value, the key ingredient to creating trauma. Which made what happened next all the more insane.

There were two occasions in the fight where Anne lost her grip on her powers. The first time, she’d been clocked enough by the king’s fists and missiles to make a mini-crater in the helipad of a nearby hospital, where she appeared to be down for the count—that was, before some FBI agents on the scene had the bright idea of using enormous loudspeakers to play one of her favorite songs, a move that brought her and her powers back and is now the reason you still struggle to listen to K-Pop on the radio anymore. The second time, however, was where things began to defy description.

Alongside Anne and Sasha, there were dozens of the aforementioned FBI agents, some military, and a host of creatures—from the other dimension, it was presumed—battling all manner of robots and perverted animals on the street level. Among them was a small family of what appeared to be anthropomorphic frogs, from which the event itself would get its name. One of the more well-known images from the day was when they began a strange, hypnotic dance that would end up subduing a pair of mutated herons responsible for much of the early damage. It was one of these smaller frogs—Sprig, you seem to remember Anne calling him in the fight footage—that stepped in as a meat shield when Anne seemed to just lose her glow all at once, leaving her on the physical brink and ripe for a finishing blow from the titan. A single slingshot to the dome to get his attention. Then…the speech.

There are internet denizens who can quote the whole thing chapter and verse, but you’ve never been one of them. Something about the necessity of change, feelings repressed, and following one’s heart when the moment comes, all coming from the soul of someone once near and dear to the king long since lost to time and regret. All you know is that the letter Sprig read to Andrias appeared to have moved him to tears, to the point where he began to wail about the accruement of his sins being too high to overcome and pounding the roof of the building they were both on. And yet…Anne didn’t care.

She just. Didn’t. Care.

No matter that her enemy had seen the light, no matter that his subsequent redressing himself into the armor he’d been using the whole time looked involuntary, no matter that she seemed ready to hear him out for a second before his re-armoring appeared to be all it took to convince her otherwise.

She kept trying to power herself back up. To rear back for one last blow. A couple of snaps of the fingers. A spark. Then all blue again, circling back around, picking up speed as she—from what you remember of the footage available—aimed straight for the frog’s heart. The king himself, frozen for a moment, then waiting until the last possible second before disarming himself again, eyes closed, arms spread wide, embracing the inevitable—a gesture that even the most hardened of war veterans would give pause over, reflexes permitting.

Anne did not give pause. 

She killed him.

Oh, everyone debates whether the king died from the blow, citing deceptive camera angles and trajectories and combat philosophy. But you know.

You know better.

You can’t speak for creatures from other universes, but you know for a fact that not a single one of Earth’s would have survived a direct shot like that. And that the king, torn limb from limb, never moved much again. And that Anne, smiling and triumphant over her deed, took one last look at him, went up to the floating castle for something (someone?), and came back to drag his body up to it before the castle vanished into the portal from whence it came. 

All of this, burned into your memory. And that blow. That last blow, that image seared into the brains of everyone who lived through that day but yours in particular—THAT’S what keeps you up at night. What wakes you up, shaking, crying, sweating, hyperventilating. 

Because she could do it to you.

“GAAAAAH!” you scream, yanking yourself out of your daymare. As your feet kick out and the swing begins to go again, it turns out you are, in fact, hyperventilating, and your heart rate is an easy two-and-a-half beats per minute. You look around for something, anything that will get it under control before you pass out. 

You check your pockets. Nothing. And you didn’t bother bringing a bag with you. Dammit.

You cock your head in every direction you can, discovering that your scream somehow didn’t bring a single curious neighbor out to inspect the unholy noise. Nor did anyone from the Boonchuy-Plantar house come to check you out. Yet.

Okay. Time for a last resort.

You cup your hands together as tight as you can, then thrust them onto your nose and mouth. Out, in. Out, in. Easy now. Slow it down. Not so high and low, now.

Out, in. Out, in.

On this goes for about two minutes. The breathing stabilizes to something resembling normal, as does your pulse. You’re shaking again, but that will be easy enough to hide. So will the tears that are now intermixed with the sweat flowing from your hair. What won’t, however, is the icy feeling in the back your head, or the slowness with which your body now moves. Whatever. You can figure that out as you go tonight.

Ding!

You jump again, almost dropping your phone as you pull it back out of your pocket. Stabilizing the bottom of the phone against your chest, you see another text from Marcy.

“All done! Ready when you are! Just ring the doorbell and I’ll come let you in,” it reads. Below the message, a second one that came in just as you were reading the first: “SO sorry again about making you wait. Hopefully you didn’t get too bad of a sunburn!” A sweating-smile emoji punctuates the text.

You have to smile at that one. You, a native Angelino, getting sunburned? One might as well be worried about a Republican becoming governor of the state any time soon. Letting out a small snort, you find yourself a bit more relaxed. Good. You’re going to need your happy face on for this one.

You stand up, legs still wobbling a bit. You limp your way over to the door and use the doorframe to straighten yourself. One last exhale, and a straightening of your top. 

Then, you ring the doorbell.

[kururu418]

My Einherjar Picks

Record of Ragnarok season 2 came out, and I thought it was pretty good! At least a step up from last season anyway. Then I remembered I had this idea. I thought this would be a fun idea and potential reblog/tag game to do! So here’s the list of Einherjar (human fighters) I would have gone with. Feel free to reblog with your own picks of them (or the list of gods) you would have chosen.

1. Shaka Zulu

King of the Zulu kingdom and a well known military genius and tactician! I think it would have been awesome to see him in a battle against the gods. He was known for being downright ruthless in his methods. Took out his own half brother to take power, had the whole ‘poison spit’ thing going, and came up with the famous Bull Horn Formation. He went out like most powerful rulers did, getting assassinated. (Took his brothers three tries to finally get him).

2. King David

Biblical figures clearly aren’t off limits. I mean they had Adam in there so I consider this pick free game. King David murdered a nine foot tall man with a sling and a rock... imagine what he would do with a volunder weapon! Dude was already a badass. I mean: “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands”.

3. Mahummaud Ali      

I shouldn’t even have to explain this one! It’s Mahummad Ali! Yeah he’s not exactly an ‘ancient’ historical figure but this man is unquestionably the greatest known boxer of all time! He’s the goat! You already know his volunder would be a pair of boxing gloves. Imagine just him getting in the area with a god and going “No fancy tricks, just these hands”.

4. John Henry  

Okay, maybe a bit of a cheat here since it’s more forelock than an actual historical figure, but c’mon! It’s John Henry! A dude so badass he died of exhaustion beating a machine in a railroad making contest! Volunder would most definitely be a hammer! He’s jack a god up!

5. Bruce Lee  

I don’t even have to explain this one. It’s Bruce Lee. Again, not exactly an ancient historical figure but he’s so badass it’d be amazing to see him in the exaggerated world of RoR.

6. Harry Houdini

Not a warrior, but neither was Nikola Telsa or Jack The Ripper (he was a killer, not a warrior...) I think it would be a really creative fight, with him using his escape tactics and magic to his advantage in the right. I have no idea what his volunder would be, but it’s be awesome. (A deck of cards, a key, a giant box, who knows!). If he lost it would be by being punched in the gut...

7. Bass Reeves

The baddest cowboy to ever walk the earth... period. Dude was an absolute legend. This is the guy who was an inspiration for the Lone Ranger and Django. Imagine this gunslinger up against a god? His volunder would be two six shooters!

8. Henry Every

I don’t imagine most people have ever heard of this guy, but he was the most successful pirate in history. This guy organized a number of pirates crews together to rob this super rich cruise ship. Not only did he get away with it but he screwed off afterwards and never got caught. Was known for being a real persuasive and charismatic dude, which is how he was made leader of the alliance. I just think having a pirate against a god would be cool.

9. Hua Mulan

Another legend rather than a historical figure, but meh. I feel it’s only deserved we get another version of Mulan that doesn’t suck ass. She became a famed warrior in the army while under the guise of a man, and unlike in movies she never actually got caught! In the original ballad she fought for ten years, was offered a high position among the government, but then turned it down and decided to just go home. Never got found out until after. That it badass, and would love to see her tangle with a god.

10. Lapu-Lapu

Lapu-Lapu is a heroic historical figure in Filipino culture. He basically told a bunch of colonizers to piss off, and when they tried to screw him over by setting his village on fire, he rallied his warriors, rolled up and murked them... so yeah, a pretty awesome guy.  

Anyway this was just a fun little thing to do. If you guys are up for it then you can do your own list and tag some people I guess. Am eager to see what other people/gods people would have picked to go toe to toe with each other.

[musette22]

hey! just a lil question in case you know the answer but why did so many people expect the sexiest man alive to go to Seb? I'm seeing so many comments about that and even in the just Jared account, those are two of the top comments "it should've been Seb" but i don't get it. did he mention anything or what did I miss? 😅 as a Seb Stan i feel like i failed this one and I'm only *confusion* ps: congrats to you and the Chris fandom<3

Hi lovely! Thanks for your message. I've gotten quite a few asks about this, but I'm just going to answer this one, because I don't want to dwell on the negativity that's attached to it.

Thanks so much for the congratulations, and thank you for not being argumentative or polarizing in your ask, but let me first of all reiterate, just in case, that I am just as much as Seb stan as I am a Chris stan. I can hear some people rolling their eyes because they're like 'hello you've literally only reblogged chris today' but like........... if it had been Seb, I'd have done the exact same thing obviously, so come on. (I'll put the rest of my reply under the cut because it got long)

Now, I don't know for sure why some people thought it would be Sebastian (I think some people started discussing that it *should* or could be him and that created rumours, but correct me if I'm wrong). As far as I'm aware, there was no real indication that it could be him, beyond that apparently the SMA title is 'supposed' to go to someone who's had a 'big' year in their career, however that might be defined. We can all agree that Sebastian 1000% had a big year, and that he's been doing incredibly well for himself, and that he's looking sexier than ever, so OBVIOUSLY he would have deserved the title, I'm not at all debating that.

But while Sebastian has been doing amazingly well for himself and is much more well known that he was a few years ago, I think he's still not quite at the level of stardom that most people who get 'crowned' SMA are. So to me, it's not a surprise that he didn't get it, and I would have never expected him to get it (at least not this year). Again, not because I don't think he deserves it, but just because I don't feel like he's at at level of fame (yet). And even if I'm wrong, and he is on People's radar, then he'd still have to accept the title, and honestly, I'm not sure if I could see him doing that. Maybe not ever, but especially not at this time in his career. He's focusing on being taken more seriously, and I'm not sure how well a title like this one would help with that. This is just my personal feeling though, and I'll readily admit I might be wrong.

However. That still doesn't change the fact that Chris getting the title does not mean he's stolen it from Sebastian, which is apparently how some people have been acting. That's just complete bullshit. Only one person can get the title every year, and it's a tribute to that one person, NOT a slight to literally every other man on the planet. I personally find it unbelievable that some of Sebastian's stans are saying that Chris doesn't deserve the title because Sebastian should have gotten it. That makes no sense. Maybe if People had announced a shortlist and Chris and Seb had both been on there I'd have sort of gotten it, but that wasn't the case so ???

I've also seen people say Chris hasn't had a big year in his career and he therefore doesn't deserve the title ('what has he had? two bad movies?'), which, with all due respect, get lost. Chris has worked his ass off this year too, he's given us two movies (which I personally genuinely loved, for the record), done two world press tours and given us a whole lot of other stuff too (puppy interview and ASP to name but a few) and in my opinion it's incredibly rude and entitled to say he doesn't deserve the title because his movies didn't do as well as Sebastian's, or because you personally didn't like them. AND THEN, apparently now there are also Chris fans actively mocking and picking fights with Sebastian stans over this, which.... lord help me.

They BOTH did well this year. They're BOTH sexy and wonderful. They BOTH deserve the title, but only one person can get it, and this time it was Chris. Deal with it. Maybe some other year it's gonna be Seb, that would be wonderful!

Pitting these two against each other is something I'll never understand. It's so childish and lame, my god. Do these Seb stans honestly think that Sebastian saw the news and thought 'fuck this guy, it should've been meeee!!!!' or something? Or that Chris is gloating, thinking "I outsexied Sebastian, mwahaha!' Like? Chris and Sebastian are friends. Sebastian is without a doubt happy for Chris, and probably mostly amused about the whole thing. Knowing Sebastian, he'd be embarrassed and upset to know his fans are fighting Chris's fans online, saying it should have been him, and Chris would be disgusted that people are being mean to each other online in his name too. So just... don't do that. Grow up. Stop being negative about literally everything and try and contribute something good and positive to the world instead. In other words: take a leaf out of your faves book.

(just for the record, nonnie, I'm not talking to you here, just the people who are being idiots <3)

[6sakusa]

hello i see requests are open 🥺 can you write an angst to fluff with suna 💞💞 maybe som ething related to birthdays/anniversary’s, or just feel free to take creative liberty. thank you i love your work 😖💞

“birthday” suna rintarō.

a/n : i hope you enjoy, if so please support by liking & reblogging <3

warnings : angst, implications of a toxic relationship, mild swearing, me not proof reading sorry.

you had been sitting against the hardwood chair for hours now, it felt pointless to even count, time was blurring slowly and you couldn’t help but fade away with it. you would have never imagined your day would go like this, from the moment you had woken up your boyfriend suna hadn’t been in bed next to you, granted that was something you were used to. however, you thought today would be different, considering it was your birthday.

since suna went pro he seemingly had less and less time for you but you could tell he was making as much as an effort as possible, that’s probably the reason that you failed to address it multiple times regardless of the way it had been eating away at you. how could you get in the way of your boyfriends dreams? he had finally accomplished everything he had wanted since high school, he was playing for a division one team, he had the apartment he’d been dreaming of, the car he had saved on his pinterest board since he was seventeen, and now even though he never cared for fame he was definitely famous.

and you were there for the entire ride, you were there when he first decided to try out for inarizaki’s volleyball team in first year, even though you weren’t dating then you still encouraged him to go for it. you were the one who showed up to his first practice to ease his nerves even though he tried to act brave. you were there when he went to nationals for the first time, the look in his eyes was indescribable, it was beautiful and it’s when you knew that you were slowly falling in love with suna. you were there when he lost his first official game comforting him as much as you could. you were there in second year when he lost against karasuno, you were there when he got his first girlfriend advising him what to get her even though you were completely whipped over him. yes, you were always by his side, thankfully the two of you made things official in third year.

but now looking back thinking on all of it you realised one thing you had never even considered is that this would happen, that once suna achieved everything you would no longer be his priority. you weren’t going to lie to yourself, it hurt, it seriously hurt. especially when you had been anticipating him to leave atleast a note wishing you a happy birthday saying he would be back in a couple hours to celebrate with you. but no, there wasn’t even that. no note, no text, no phone call, nothing.

and here you thought you would take the burden off his hands by planning something for the day, you had spent hours preparing a three course meal knowing that once suna was back from practice he would be on the verge of knocking out, the last thing you wanted was him dragging himself to some fancy resturant across town at your benefit. yet, it didn’t matter how much you considered his feelings since he wasn’t even here to show an ounce of gratitude.

it was taking everything in you to hold in your tears, had he really forgotten? even his own teammates had taken the time to text or call you to wish you a happy birthday, but right now it was anything but that.

what probably hurt the most was the crushing realisation of how unimportant you were becoming in his life, why were you even still in it? did he even want you around, even if he does then that didn’t mean you should necessarily stay, afterall it was becoming clearer and clearer that you deserved better even if you cursed the thought of saying it outloud. well, you atleast deserved someone who could remember your special day.

your head darted to the door as you heard the sound of keys and the lock clicking, it was almost as if suna’s very presence could pull you out of any trance.

“rin?” you smiled, why were you smiling? you shouldn’t be smiling. were you really so hopelessly infatuated with your boyfriend that you would let all your thoughts melt away at the sight of him alone? come on now, this is disappointing.

you deserve better.

you launched yourself into his arms in which he embraced you tightly, it wasn’t anything special, he did it everytime he had come home to you, but you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach as if you were still in your honeymoon phase when it came to rintarō.

“are you hungry? i made some food.” you pulled away taking a glance at his face, even when you were right in front of him it didn’t even seem like he was acknowledging your presence. his eyes were trailing between empty space, not even looking down at you. you couldn’t help but sigh to yourself, why had you gotten so excited?

“nah.” he shook his head attempting to make his way over to your shared bedroom. he looked tired and you weren’t surprised, afterall being a pro player was no easy task but you hoped at the very least that he would say something. secretly you were hoping that this was all some shitty prank that he decided to play on you and any second now he would jump out saying happy birthday and offering to spend some time with you.

“but rin i-“ you could barely finish your sentence before he decided to cut in with a tone so sharp that it was offensive.

“not now y/n, i’m not in the mood.” he sighed.

“i understand that but-“

“are you really going to keep talking? don’t start this clingy shit right now i said i’m not hungry.” and with that he didn’t even bother turning around, not even one glance at the food you had prepared before he disappeared down the hallway.

oh.

so he really had forgotten, even though the two of you would joke around a lot you knew he would never take things this far. not to the point where your eyes were glued to the floor and it felt like you couldn’t breathe because of the way your heart was literally breaking in your chest, not to the point where it felt like the person who you deemed the most important on the planet didnt give a shit about you.

suna clicked his tongue running his hands through his hair in exasperation as he thought about the way he just treated you. truly, he didn’t know what his problem was, there was just so much pressure on him lately and it seemed to be building up from every corner of his life, except from you, so why did he always take things out on you? the one he cared about most? the one he would do anything for? maybe it’s because he knew there would be no serious consequences, or so he thought. regardless, he would apologise to you soon when he calmed down, you didn’t deserve all the shit he was putting you through and he would make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him.

but what he didn’t know is how you were standing in the kitchen with a hole in your heart. there wasn’t much you could do now, he barely let you speak and you weren’t really up to reminding him of the fact it was your birthday, especially if he didn’t care to hear it.

you sighed making your way to the fridge pulling out a chocolate cake, you had gotten it because you knew it was suna’s favourite flavour and he was particularly picky when it came to cakes even though it was your birthday.

“i might as well still celebrate.” you mumbled to yourself, tears making their way down your face. maybe for another day you could pretend that everything was okay.

you picked up some candles from the drawer and stuck them into the cake softly, it was a miracle how you could still keep your composure regardless of what had just happened. sighing you lit them up, in a way it was such a tragic sight to see. in everyone else’s eyes you had everything you could have ever wanted in life, people looked up to you and yet here you were, feeling like the most lonely person on the planet.

“happy birthday to me.” you whispered with a sad smile and glossy eyes before blowing out the candles.

tragic indeed.

“y/n?” suna turned the corner raising an eyebrow at your state. he could tell you were crying and as much as it hurt him it also shocked him, he had said mean things to you before but you didn’t usually cry over them even though they clearly caused you pain. it took everything in him not to hit his head against the wall right now, you were in this state because of how he dismissed you.

you looked up at him, your eyes were void of the excitement they held when you had saw him earlier and he took note of it. “oh rintarō, do you want cake?” your tone was curious but your expression was deadpan, and to suna it was scary.

“i came to apologise.” he began making his way towards you glancing at the cake several times, why were you blowing out candles?

that’s when it hit him. what day is it today? he wasn’t sure he hasn’t been very perceptive of time lately but he did know it was your birthday month.

his heart dropped.

had he really neglected you this much lately that he had forgotten your own birthday? and he had the audacity to call himself your boyfriend.

“y/n, i’m so sorry i don’t know how i forgot-“

“save it rin, i see things clearly now, thank you.” you turned to make your way out of the kitchen but he was onto you before you were even able to.

“you see things clearly? what do you mean? y/n, i know i’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately and forgetting your birthday is unforgivable but please don’t say what i think you’re about to.” he clenched his jaw pulling your hand into his chest.

“what do you want me to do? ealier you didn’t even let me speak, is it something i did? do you hate me?” you asked with tears streaming down your face, you couldn’t pretend anymore.

“no, no, don’t ever think that, you’re perfect, you’re everything i could ever ask for, you’re not the problem you never have been.” he embraced you, wrapping his arms so tightly as if the moment he let go you would be gone.

“so why don’t you care about me anymore?” the broken tone in your voice was sending suna off the rails, he couldn’t believe he was the cause of this, he hated himself.

“that’s not true, i do care about you, i love you, you’re everything to me, you don’t even know how much you mean to me.” he pulled away to cup your face, this time you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine interest, the adoration. “fuck, i’ve just been under pressure and i’ve taken it out on you, i can’t even tell you how sorry i am.”

“give me another chance to be better to you y/n, please don’t leave me i can’t live without you.” he fell to his knees, still holding your hand in his.

“rin-“

“please” he begged, a look of anguish prominant on his features as if he expected you to say no.

“get up rin.” you watched as he rose slowly, anxiety engulfing him as he couldn’t anticipate your answer. “i’ll give you another chance, always.”

“thank you.” he kissed your forehead before bringing you back into his arms.

“what are you doing?” you frowned watching as he brought out his phone and began texting.

“i just told my coach i’m taking a week off, i swear i’ll make this up to you, happy birthday y/n.”

you smiled at the thought of having your boyfriend to yourself for an entire week for the first time in ages, maybe your birthday wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

“tell me what you want princess, anything at all.. do you want to go out of the country? you wanted to see paris right?”

you chuckled at his words as he wiped your tears, looking at you with eyes full of love. “i don’t care what we do, as long as i’m with you.”

“well first how about i have cake with the love of my life?” he turned to the chocolate cake on the dining table before relighting the candles. “how about you do this properly this time hmm?”

“i would like that.” you smiled.

[quicksilversquared]

Superhero Salary

It all started with a joke. It ended with Ladybug and Chat Noir finally getting some of the compensation that they deserved.

After all, fame isn't going to pay the bills.

links in the reblog

It all started with a (mostly) joking comment from Chat Noir, blurted out in a moment of frustration.

"I hate it when that happens," he had grumbled after Ladybug knocked him free from the akuma's control. "Stupid, stupid mind-control akumas. Tell Hawkmoth that if he's going to insist on akumas like that, he's gonna have to pay for my therapy after this is all over!" he hollered after the akuma, who was clearly hopping mad about no longer having a superhero under his control. "A superhero salary doesn't exactly pay enough for it!"

He had been kidding, at least mostly. Kidding or not, though, the complaint was out there.

The moment had been picked up by the Ladyblog, of course, just as part of the bigger fight. But it wasn't long before it absolutely exploded over the internet.

Sure, maybe in comic books it was implied that superheroes always worked for free. But was that really fair? After all, Ladybug and Chat Noir were providing a service to the city. They were taking the time out of their normal lives to save Paris and put things back to rights, and they were doing it often. They had to come out whenever Hawkmoth sent out an akuma, not just when they had a spare bit of time that they could use to fight crime. Just like policemen and firefighters, they were putting themselves in danger by fighting on the front line. And if they were in jobs, or were in school- well, having to duck out regularly had to be affecting them, and not in a positive way.

If they had jobs, they could very well be on the edge of losing them because of all of the times they went missing. Even if they were self-employed- well, then they would still be losing out on some serious work time and having to work late into the night instead. And if they were in school...

Then they would be in danger of falling behind and need help to keep on top of their schoolwork. Tutors and online courses both cost money.

And on top of all of that, there was superhero merchandise being made using their colors and images, clothes and dolls and souvenirs and toys. Surely they should be getting a cut of the profit from that.

With only a few exceptions, Paris was soon in agreement: their superheroes needed to be earning a salary.

Marinette wasn't quite certain what to think of it all.

"Tikki, what do I say if the mayor decides to give us a salary?" she implored, slumping back in her chair. "I mean, even if it would be possible to safely get the money, I just don't know."

Part of her wanted to do the noble thing and say no to a salary. After all, she was Ladybug because she wanted to help! Plus, would public perception of them change if they were technically city employees? The mayor might think that he had the power to call them up on command, which would really stink.

But- well, Marinette was a teenager, and no sane teenager would turn down money, particularly when it was money for work that she had done. Even though she wasn't exactly struggling- she got an allowance, plus money from babysitting Manon and of course commission money, and besides she was a teenager and not an adult with a million living expenses- having more money in her account for fabric or design classes or her future career wasn't a bad thing.

"Well, Plagg and I could certainly set things up so that all of the money you get would be funneled through us and our magic," Tikki told her. "And we would be careful about not matching up the amounts or making them regular! There's ways that we can do it without attracting attention."

Marinette nodded. That was one question answered, but the other?

"As for if you should take the money..." Tikki considered that. "I mean, there's a lot to consider. But I'd like to point out that you don't know how long you'll be fighting Hawkmoth, or if there'll be any other threats after he's gone to deal with. That could interfere with you having a regular job. And if the akuma attacks keep disrupting your school day and you need to hire a tutor to help you keep up but you don't want your parents knowing, having the extra money could help. Or if you decide to sign up for an online school so that you can look up lessons that you missed in class, you could pay for that! But people might have strong opinions about superheroes taking money, too."

"That's a lot of positives and only one negative," Marinette pointed out. "I mean, it could be annoying to listen to people judging, but unless they're in the majority..."

Either way, it was going to be disheartening to hear people judging her for taking the money. But as long as they weren't in her face or spreading lies about her and Chat Noir now not being motivated to take down Hawkmoth because that would mean an end to the money or something ridiculous like that, she could probably ignore it. Maybe she could make some donations with the money she was getting to dispel those rumors.

Honestly, she'd probably do that anyway. There were so many organizations and people in need in Paris, and if Marinette was earning money then of course she would want to support them.

Of course, that all depended on if the officials even offered the salary in the first place, which was honestly looking really likely. It looked like public opinion was strongly in their favor, and the mayor was seriously easily waived by public opinion most of the time. And anything to do with the superheroes- well, it was publicity gold.

And in the end, it only took a week of deliberations- entirely about how much Ladybug and Chat Noir should be making, and puzzling out how much of the profit from sales of their merchandise they should be getting on top of their salary- before the announcement went out that the superheroes would be offered payment. A day after that, Ladybug and Chat Noir accepted their salary and gave the city's head payroll officer the information their kwamis had given them for the kwami bank accounts, so that they could get their paychecks without risking their secret identities.

"I didn't expect things to blow up like this when I said that, about not earning enough for therapy," Chat Noir admitted after they had left. He had seemed put-together and confident when they were in the office- which Ladybug had appreciated, because the sums that were being discussed were absolutely intimidating and having Chat Noir being so confident next to her helped her not get flustered. "I mean, yeah, down the road, I wouldn't be surprised if I get nightmares about fighting all the time and need to get help with that, but- well, I don't think I'd be able to, not unless I sign up as Chat Noir instead of my civilian self. And I don't know if I would necessarily want to do that, in case too much civilian stuff comes out."

Ladybug winced. Yeah, that was a real concern. And- well, she didn't ever admit it to anyone other than Tikki, but she sometimes had nightmares about the fights, too. And Chat Noir was right- a therapist could probably help.

But the identity concerns...

It was more than likely that some personal information would come out if they were talking to any sort of therapist, and that was dangerous. Maybe the chance of their therapists stumbling on their identities was low, but she still couldn't risk it.

Maybe they could go out of Paris to find someone, using the Horse to jump. Then their therapist would be even less likely to make the connection between Ladybug and Marinette, and with the distance from Paris, having the superheroes in their office might be less exciting than it would be for someone who saw the superheroes on a daily basis. But even that wouldn't really be a possibility until Hawkmoth was gone, when they actually got some semblance of free time back.

"I can't deny that the money could be helpful, though," Chat Noir added after a moment. "I mean, depending on how long the conflict drags on, or if we need anything that Tikki and Plagg can't provide to help us, or- well, when I get old enough to move out of my father's place, I want to. There's way too many people who think that they can just barge into my room without warning and poke around, and- well, it's not safe."

Ladybug glanced over at her partner again. He looked like he was her age- in fact, they had shared enough information inadvertently that she was positive that they were probably a year apart at most- which meant that he was facing years of people disregarding his privacy and potentially discovering his secret. "That's ages away, though."

"I know. I can't do much about it right now, though, besides just paying attention to where I'm detransforming." Chat Noir sighed. "I guess the money can't really help with that, not right now."

"Yeah. And that's not great." Ladybug tapped a rhythm against her leg, trying to come up with a solution and finding none. She just didn't have enough information about the situation to find places where they could do something. "I mean, the most I can come up with is a camera that you could connect to and move around to see if anyone is in there before going back in. And you could see if anyone is coming around and poking around that you don't know about. But- well, the problem is that cameras can be hard to hide, and if your father finds out and decides to review footage..."

"It could backfire on me, really fast." Chat Noir glanced around, then back at her. "Yeah, I know. I guess- well, for now, I won't change anything. Maybe something will come up in the future."

"Yeah, I'm not going to be changing much either, I think. But it's nice to have that money there in case I need it." It made her feel a little weird, honestly- after over a year of volunteer superheroing, accepting money for that was just strange- but maybe eventually, it would sink in that she was doing a job and deserved pay for it.

Chat Noir nodded. "Just in case. And, well- if we don't use it, it'll be a good start for my retirement account!"

Ladybug laughed at that, the awkwardness and concerns that she had had earlier flying away in an instant. "Teenagers with retirement accounts. Who would have thought?"

"Well, you can never be too prepared, right?"

Ladybug giggled again, imaging the looks on her parents' places if she sat down for dinner and started asking questions about retirement accounts and for their advice in setting one up. Maybe it wouldn't be completely out of left field- after all, unlike most of her classmates, Marinette did earn money with commissions, and enough that she would not be spending it all- but it was also a strange thing for a teenager to ask about.

Well. At least it wasn't a bad problem to have.

  A week later, Ladybug and Chat Noir officially received their first paychecks, with back payments pending. And by that time, the two of them had figured out where those payments were going.

Most of the money, of course, would be held in the kwami bank accounts until it could be trickled into their civilian bank accounts. How much, exactly, could be deposited without being noticed was still being decided- Ladybug could definitely get away with more than Chat Noir, though she figured that varying amounts and not at regular intervals would stick out less than regular payments. They were still trying to figure out how they might get retirement accounts going- even as much as they joked, it wasn't exactly a bad idea.

And then part of the money would go to charity. It was just a nice thing to do, after all, and since they had spare money- well, it would just be a good idea to help out a little bit more. They didn't want to make too big of a deal out of their donations, since it was very possible that people would judge where they were donating, how much they were donating, how often they were making their donations, and how their donations did or didn't change over time. There would no doubt be people petitioning the superheroes to support their favorite charities, which- well, maybe it would be a good way to learn about new causes, but it sounded like more stress than it would be worth. Besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir were private citizens behind the mask, and they deserved to have some privacy about their finances.

All they needed to tell the public was that they were donating anonymously and wouldn't be disclosing the places or amounts for those reasons. It was a simple answer, and should satisfy most of the population. There would no doubt be a few naysayers- there almost always were a few people who just had to be difficult- but it was a reasonable answer.

Thankfully, the person who had interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about what they were going to do with their first paychecks- a kind man from a mid-sized newspaper, who had earned the spot of first interview entirely because he hadn't been pushy about asking- had thought that their reasoning was plenty sound. They were hardly going to be millionaires, and so expecting them to donate large amounts on a regular (and frequent) basis was completely ridiculous. Keeping things private- well, that meant that people who were out of touch wouldn't be moaning about donations that they were perceiving as too small.

Just because Ladybug and Chat Noir were famous didn't mean that they were rich.

Marinette hummed quietly to herself as she skimmed the article that the reporter they had talked to had written. While the interview itself had taken place several days prior, the article had just been released that morning to coincide with both their first payment and the start of the month. It was very nicely written, and framed their reasoning in an even more clear and articulate light than they had managed themselves. She didn't doubt that it would get noticed soon, and then the speculation about whether or not Ladybug and Chat Noir would donate some of their earnings would be put to rest for once and for all-

"Wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't donating any of their salary? That's so unlike them!"

-or maybe not.

"I was surprised too, they just completely brushed me off when I suggested that they donate part of their salaries," Lila told her audience as they swept into the room as a- well, as a flock, really, that was the only way to describe it. "It's what I would do if I was a superhero, of course, so I thought that they would feel the same! It's such a let-down, I really thought that they were better than that..."

"I would say that maybe it's because they've donated so much of their time to the city already, but I know I heard something at some point about backpayments to cover their time from the start," Alya commented, her eyebrows furrowed. "So that's not really donated time anymore, is it?"

"Maybe they have bills to pay," Rose piped up, clearly ever-hopeful. "And they need to get caught up with that first, of course. That would make sense!"

Of course, Lila was shaking her head as she headed up to her seat, with the rest of the group following not far behind to keep listening. "They're too young for bills. I met up with them again this morning and was trying to talk some sense into them because really, they could just do small donations, even a little bit helps- I would know, I've seen how far money can stretch and help in a charity! But even now that they have the money in their hands, they just want to keep it."

There were murmurs of disappointment all around the group gathered around Lila at that. Even though donations clearly weren't mandatory- well, they thought that the superheroes should be better role models than that! If they didn't have bills to pay, surely...

"And it's not like they're not getting enough to have both spending money and do a little charity," Lila said, shaking her head sadly. "Plenty of spending money, even! And I pointed that out, but they got really upset with me. I'd hate for our friendship to be destroyed over this really, but it's just- I feel like I don't know them at all now!"

Frankly, Marinette had heard enough. She wasn't going to let her reputation as Ladybug- or Chat Noir's reputation- get slandered by Lila's nonsense.

"Funny thing," Marinette commented in the most deadpan, disinterested voice that she could muster, not even taking her eyes off of her tablet as she talked. "You say that you met up with the superheroes this morning and they weren't interested in doing donations, and yet there's an article in La Trib this morning about an interview they did with the superheroes days ago that say otherwise. It says that donating was in their plan from the start."

The group in the back of the room went quiet.

"Marinette is correct," Markov commented after a moment, breaking the silence. "The article was posted one hour ago, though the paper copy presumably went out earlier. The superheroes stated that they have been looking at charities since they first heard that they might be getting money for their superhero work, as they wish to continue to help Paris. Their donations will be anonymous and private to protect their privacy and to prevent unwanted commentary on their choices."

Marinette glanced back. All eyes were slowly turning from Markov to Lila.

"There is also a video of the interview linked on the online version of the article," Markov added. "And the metadata confirms that it was filmed several days ago."

Several of the eyes pointed towards Lila were getting narrowed and suspicious.

"Oh, that- that's lovely!" Lila exclaimed, somewhat belatedly pressing her hand over her heart. "Maybe they were just trying to wind me up to tease me, then! And I misread the situation and took them seriously. Or they were trying to give me a pleasant surprise! It happens, sometimes- I'm not always great at catching sarcasm-"

This time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.

Smiling to herself, Marinette looked back at her tablet, closing out of the article and opening up their reading for Literature so that she could review it- or, well, finish reading it, because an akuma had interrupted her the previous night and it had been too late to pick it up again once the fight was over. If she hurried, she might be able to finish it before Ms. Bustier called for a start to class, and then she wouldn't get in trouble again for not doing her homework.

Honestly, if Lila's track record was anything to go by, she would probably wriggle her way out of the lie by the afternoon and the whole incident would be forgotten. But maybe this time would end up different- after all, Marinette had never seen that doubt before- and Lila's tower of lies would finally come toppling down. It was long overdue, really, but Marinette wasn't going to hold her breath.

If it happened...well, if their superhero salary was like a surprise cake, then a Lila downfall would be the cherry on top.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Tangled In Your Lies

Anonymous commission for someone who requested a full fic for Revenant/Reader for an old drabble.

Summary: It should have just been a quick win bet to let you finally get your fix of Revenant again. 'Become champion' shouldn't have been too hard, considering you'd nailed him and his squad before he could get you in the past. And yet, of course, Revenant wants to always win. And he will win, especially if it means you're up on the table for him to have. Or! In which you and Revenant have a FWB situation and he's been teasing you for weeks with no relief. So you come up with a bet to mutually solve your issues, totally set on winning. How hard could it be?

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the content you Like!

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader 

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and has a vulva, bondage, Revenant being tsundere, FWB relationship/Squad mates with benefits, Revenant has a cock attachment, simulacrum headcanons/Robophilia at its finest

Words: 3.3k

______________

There were some things that the Apex Games had made you understand better. One of those things being the legends that fought within them.

Some examples being that; Sometimes people who were deadly predators were actually humble and soft people in real time, more interested in playing with their familiar birds and humming tunes. Or that people who threw up a shell of bravado and confidence were the loneliest of people, who found it hard to make friends and near broke your heart when you had offered for said person to sit down with you and have lunch. Or perhaps that a big, smiling, friendly man did not mean he did not feel heartbreak at a time in his life, or that his kind eyes did not mean that he was weak.

It was that these games could be for money, fame, or some sort of statement. Whether fighting for sacrifice, fighting to make a difference, or even for a higher following, everyone was here for a reason.

Except, it seemed, for the newest member of the Apex arena, none of these options seemed to fit him. It was almost as if someone had thrown a wild animal into the cage with you all. One that was stolen from the wild and had no interest in sharing the space with anyone else.

~Rest under the cut~

Revenant, the simulacrum, paced the dropship zone like a predator often, bright orange optics flicking to specific people as if marking them for death right at the start. It was as if he were looking into all of you like meals, nuisances. As if one of you in particular had done something that day to deserve the sweet embrace of death.

When you had been set up with him on the same squad, he did the same thing. Paced, looked around, spotted who he seemed to be looking for and would threaten them in some fashion. He’d chuckle, low and dark, as if echoing what must have been a worst fear. Or a nightmare.

Sometimes he’d take his finger and slice it across his throat. Sometimes he’d form a gun with his thumb and forefinger, pretend to aim it at their forehead perfectly, and then laugh darkly again. Haunting and almost beautiful if it didn’t send shivers down your spine.

He seemed to have some twisted humor about him, so you took that as a good sign as far as finding how to get this guy to at least not despise your guts. You find very quickly that Revenant is unlike anyone you had met here already. There’s no on and off switch with him, as far as his personality in the ring and out of it. He seemed just as sadistic and eager to shed blood out of it, practically always pacing, always wanting to pick fights or scare someone.

You were his focus sooner than later, due to you seeming to want to try and get close to him. Or at least get under his skin. Either way he picked it up as a threat, guessing that you were just trying to make him weak. Revenant, in turn, often did things that made your heart pound heavy in your chest. Such as backing you slowly into the corner of any room you were perhaps in, making low threats about staying out of his way, or how he’d gut you with a single slice to your belly. Until he was growling in your face and tilting his head with a low, grumbled, “Am I understood?”

Unfortunately, for him, you only took these threats as a challenge.

The first time he threatened you like that, you had smiled at him and batted your lashes and said sweetly, “You can do better than that, can’t you?” A reaction he had not prepared for. He could understand anger, fear, maybe even could have understood if you had shoved him aside with a huff.

And instead, you stood there, leaning closer to him and watching Revenant move back away from you instead when you get close enough that your breath fans across his plating.  

If he could sneer, you’re sure he would. Instead, his silicone bottom lip had parted slightly to show sharp metallic teeth blended to match his plating, watching his optics spin and turn as if trying to come up with a response.

Then, he’d grunted, huffed at you and walked away.

That’s when you knew that Revenant could be more than the aggression he just put out. Programming be damned, something about him had felt something. You weren’t sure what you saw, but that wasn’t anger it had been. Surprise, maybe. And that?

That was as good of a starting point for you as it was for him. Because for you, that meant you could press and learn more about him.

For him, it meant you were the first target on his list in getting you to crack and stay far from him.

In the end, it wouldn’t work out well for him. Depending on the angle you looked at, that is.

--

To present day, you’re paired up with him on the same squad.

Revenant has at least gotten used to your presence enough that he won’t threaten you, but he’s gotten...possessive. Whatever you two had, he refused to label it, and neither would you.

As far as you knew, you were the only person who he’d let touch him. He was completely sensitive to any sort of affection, something you had accidentally found out when you had made a joke of him actually making due on his choking threats, you’d run a hand down his chest plate and over the small silicone waist he sported and watched him full body shudder as you took his metallic hand in your own and brought it to your throat.

Revenant had looked surprised, only to hiss for you to not touch him, even if he didn’t move his hand AWAY. In fact, his thumb had brushed over your jugular, ever so lightly as he stared down at you intensely.

It had been...interesting, to say the least.

That had started an interesting tradition. Full of you explaining to him that MRVN attachments also worked on his body. Something Revenant had claimed no interest in, going so far as to scoff at you and tell you, instead, how desperate you must have been to receive such pleasures if you were willing to tell him about such stupid things.

Yet, Revenant the next week had huffed about how he’d looked into it. Grunted, “To sate your pathetic urges, I have acquired a cock attachment. I’ll be taking what I want, when I want it, got it?” With a snarl to his voice.

You had fought a smile, told him of course, that he could have whatever he wanted. Just to see him stare at you like a predator for what must have been five minutes, as if gauging to see if you weren’t kidding.

But today, in the arena, it’s just you two. Your third had taken off, claiming something about solo-ing.  You’re sure if Revenant had eyebrows they would be raised as he looked at you and grunted out, “That’s an option?”

“Absolutely not, and don’t think about it or I’ll rip out your inner wiring and use you like a goddamned puppet.” You reply, pointing a finger at him as a threat and a growl to your own tone. You watch as he looks at you, unfazed and simply huffing in amusement as your shorter height threatens him with not even your weapon, but a finger.

Cute. Not that he’d say that out loud.

--

The match in itself was rough. Revenant liked to charge in without waiting on the defense for any sign of another squad, in his eyes another squad meant more fun. Meant more blood to spill. It meant, to you, that cross fire was bound to happen, not to mention miscommunication when you’re trying to ping an enemy, but before you can fret too hard you find a skeletal robotic arm around your waist yanking you around cover.

You grunt at him in annoyance to silently tell him you didn’t need his help, met with a snarl that silently meant he Wasn’t helping, just as you whip around his back to cover his flank.

You two work fantastically as a team, there’s no doubt about it. His gruff voice is a growl in your ear as he calls out, “Meatbag on the left, give ‘em hell.” Making sure to ping the location and giving you enough time to steady your Spitfire enough to catch the enemy off guard as they turn the corner.

His death totem goes up, watching his body shroud itself in black and orange as you quickly dart to it and touch the side of it. It always made you nauseous, the covering feeling of almost being encased in something oh so wrong. Your mind works hungrily, as if starving for the very blood he craved any time of the day.

Two squads down in a fire fight means by the end of it, you’re both weak, trying to throw up shields and heal as you hide behind a building. It means you’re easy to catch off guard, and that’s just what happens when you hear the PING of a zipline end slamming into the building above your head and the new squad approaching guns blazing.

Shit.

--

The bickering starts near instantly when you’re cleared from the medical bay and Revenant catches you heading towards your room. He likes to pick fights, especially in telling you when you were wrong. You huff back at him, bite back just as hard with your words.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so blood thirsty and wanted to run in BLINDLY-” You began, walking in a brisk, angry pace towards your room as he pursues you, lithe and quiet with his steps like the stealthy predator he was.

“Perhaps if you had more spine.” Revenant snarls back, curling around to your side as you push open your door. You go to shut it right in his face, but he follows just as easy, pushing it open and whipping around. You let your back press to your door, let him lock it, your eyes meeting his as your jaw sets straight with you clenching it.  

The tension only causes your body to light aflame with desire. It’s as if he thought you hadn’t noticed when he’d been marching beside you angrily, that his loin cloth wouldn’t shift and let you see he had an attachment on. As if he thought bickering with you like this would end any other way.

You lick your lips, watching his optics flick to the action and know for a fact you’ve got him now. You still pretend you’re angry, pushing off the door and walking towards your bedroom. You take note of how he follows you almost like a puppy- more like a wolf, stalking and hungering. “More spine? Are you seriously acting like I didn’t save your ass?” You finally jut back, letting the backs of your knees nudge the bed, making yourself look vulnerable to him.

You hide your grin when he falls right into your trap, stalking closer with his snarl rumbling in his throat, “I don’t need saving from a pathetic little-” His hand reaches for your throat, and you let one corner of your lips quirk in a smirk.

Your leg curls around the back of his where the knee joint rested, yanking forward and grabbing his wrist to yank him towards you. Revenant is made almost entirely of heavy joints, machinery, and silicone, it means he would be heavy if he landed on you. Thankfully, you move to your side, letting his weight drag you down as his back hits the bed and you’re quick to straddle him.

There’s no warning as you scramble for your nightstand on top, taking the heavy, thick metal wiring you’d gotten to prepare for this sort of thing. Revenant is near immediate in snarling, but you’d recognize his attachment getting hard anywhere against your ass.

He’s not using his full force as he squirms when you grab his arms and yank them above his head. He’s not even using blunt force, his hips buck up, he thrashes, only managing to get himself higher on the bed and head resting on your pillows. You’re able to tie his wrists together, wrapping the wiring around his forearms and tying the knot underneath, throwing it over the head of your bed and tying it to one of the bars there.

You’re lightly panting when you finally finish, sitting back on his hips and watching him struggle underneath you. It’s half-hearted at most, a show really, but you watch him test the bonds with light tugs then harder. The headboard threatens with a groan, but the bonds don’t so much as shift. You let your smirk show, and that seems to set him off.

“I’m going to rip you limb from limb!” He snarls, optics heated and swirling as he bucks up, trying to throw you off. He’s heavy, as mentioned before, but it only serves to rock you a bit off balance. Your thighs stay locked, strong as he forgot you are as you stay perfectly atop him.

You’re able to feel that the loin cloth he wears has been shifted away to reveal his cock attachment. Hard, leaking the lubricant reserves he’d had left in him, the nodes on the sides are glowing an angry red and if his flesh wasn’t made of black silicone on the attachment you would have guessed it would have been purple from arousal.

You see it at the same time he seems to notice you did. He’d be red in the face if he could be, but instead his silicone lip is parted from his metal plating, letting out pants without a need for air. When you grin cruelly, he throws his head to the side and snarls at the wall next to his head as if the poor thing caused this.

“Are you going to rip me apart, hm? When you like it this much?” You murmur your tease, shifting down his hips to straddle his upper thighs instead, stroking a finger up the length of the warmed material and watch his hips jerk up from his sensitivity. “Oh, you poor thing, don’t want to admit you like when I take control?”

“Fuck you!” He practically roars, yet when his eyes meet yours, he’s quick to avert them. His jaw clicks with a metallic noise, his sharp teeth threatening the metal plating of his ‘mouth’. You laugh a bit at him, letting your hand wrap around his cock and letting the pre-cum act as lubricant for you to pump him twice. You watch as his hips come up, lifting you with the effort, the wiring in his neck shown off with the turn of his head and you feel your mouth water from the effort not to sink your teeth into it.

--

Stretching yourself had taken time, but it was worth it in the end to watch Revenant stare at you hungrily. You had leaned back on his lap, spread yourself open with your fingers so he could see how wet your cunt was before using his own pre-cum as lubricant. It was, well, lubricant anyhow, it would be useless to let it go to waste. But, regardless, it still makes him moan low in his throat, almost a plead. Almost.

You’re two fingers in, palming your clit as you practically hump your palm. You let your other hand tease his cock, letting your nails run along the underside and occasionally pump with an almost painful squeeze at the base to remind him you’re in charge. Surprisingly, he doesn’t back talk, but he doesn’t beg either.  

His voice box is full of static by the time you finally sit on his lap properly, guiding his cock inside of you. Revenant looks like he’s going to short circuit any second, or blow a fuse for that matter. His optics have turned to a dark, deep orange as if dimming to a deeper color, his cock already threatening to jerk inside of you. Always so easy to cum, it was cute.

Right on cue, he’s cumming with a strangled sort of noise in his throat. He wouldn’t let you hear him moan properly; It was something you’d only heard accidentally slip out. Yet, even now, his optics flash in warning as his body becomes even more heated.

“Revenant-” You whine out, letting your eyes flutter and your head roll to the side as you ride him. You don’t pause to let his sensitivities reside. You get a thrill out of the way his typical snarls and grumbles turn into shaky hisses, easing into low moans as his struggling begins to ease.

It makes riding him a lot easier. Letting your hips bounce steadily and biting your bottom lip to force your own sounds to silence. At some point you’ve let your hand slide up the warm plating of his chest, sliding up to his throat and resting there. Your fingers idly press to the dark red wiring on the side of his neck, feeling his hips twitch upwards until you let your index finger hook one and gently tug.

It causes an immediate reaction as he lets out a static filled groan, almost resonating in his chest from the effort. His feet plant firm on the bed, hips slamming up into you every time you come down. It’s rocking your body in time with Revenant’s, edging you closer and closer with every thrust getting hard enough to make his prior orgasm spill from you. The messy red seeps out of you, onto his loin cloth, making every slam of hips a wet slap.

Your breathing is heavy as you pull at the wire again, able to hear the second his voice box crashes when a low, rolling growl echoes from his chest as he cums inside of you again. You cum with him, your body shaking with tremors as you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are closed, your head lolled to the side. You’re perfectly unaware you’re being watched by the simulcrum under you, who is quietly committing your imagery all to memory to replay in more...private moments.

Not that you had to ever know that.

The cleanup comes soon after, as well as unbinding him. Revenant begrudgingly lets you clean him up with a cool, wet wash cloth. Wiping up the mess from his lap and getting him to give you the fabric so you could wash it. He only grumbles once or twice when you check over his forearms and wrists for any damage, “I’m not made of flimsy, squishy flesh like you are.” He reminds you, only for you to shush him as you press a kiss to a possible scratch to his plating.

“But, aftercare is important, even if you’re going to complain the entire time.” You remind him back, moving up onto the bed to rest next to him and gently guiding him to you. You rest your arms around his body, something that should be uncomfortable but with the dips in his waist it made things easier.

Gently, you guide him to your neck to rest his head, feeling the grumble building in his chest before you silence him with a sigh, “Think of this as more for me than you, would that make you happier?”

“Nothing makes me happy,” He grumbles, only earning him a gentle stroke down his back, following the plating to make out a spine. Something that makes him grunt in approval to.

“Mhm, alright, keep being edgy.” You yawn, gesturing for him to pull up the blankets and murmuring an idle ‘good boy’ when he obeys.

He chuffs like an annoyed big cat, but is quick to silence this time.

Revenant would never admit that your soft, warm body was a blessing at soothing away any aggression he had for the night.

No, he couldn’t let you know that in reality?

He actually...maybe...sort of...

...Thought you were okay.

[mylastvow]

Tumblr Tag Game!

Thank you for tagging me @dragonslover98

Idk where to begin to apologise for being so very late to the party and respond like a two months later. What can I say… times are wild XD SORRY!

1. Why did you choose your url?

My URL is still from back in the BBC Sherlock days and is of course a reference to the episode His Last Vow. I’ve had this name for ages now and never changed it. I still like it somehow.

2. Any side blogs?

Nope! I leave it to my followers to sort to the mess of various fandom posts and whatever else I keep throwing at you all day. My sincere apologies 😊

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

July 2014 … I really have no good excuse  

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Yes. #queued for a reason I’ve used this tag from the very beginning. By now you’ve probably guessed that I’m not good with changes *gg*  

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I started this blog mainly for Benedict Cumberbatch and BBC Sherlock.But I’ve quickly branched out into other fandoms, too. Nowadays it’s a wild mess of everything and nothing.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Benedict Cumberbatch… Do I really have to say more?  😉

7. Why did you choose your header?

Hm, do I have a header? I think maybe for the mobile version? It’s probably still Dr Strange. I have to check tbh, but I’m really bad at keeping my blog uptodate

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Without looking it up, I’m pretty sure it’s about a pic I took at the Sherlock Holmes museum in London with an entry in John Watson’s diary. That one kinda got out of hand.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Is there a way to check the exact number of mutuals?!? Honestly I’ve got no idea…  

10. How many followers do you have?

A bit over 1000

11. How many people do you follow?

277

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

No… well not knowingly ^^

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

Usually once or twice.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

Not that I know of… no. I prefer to keep my blog mostly drama free… for my own sanity

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

I don’t NEED to do anything. At least not when it comes to tumblr. So unless it is something that I want to reblog, I just keep scrolling.

16. Do you like tag games?

It might not look like I do, because it takes me ages to finally do them. But yes, I do love tag games!

17. Do you like ask games?

See 16

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I know that there is such a thing as ‘tumblr famous’, but I’m not interested enough in this so-called fame to keep track of how famous exactly my mutuals are. Some of them probably have a large following and that makes me very happy, because they deserve all of them  💜💜💜

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No.

20. Tags! (no pressure obv)

As usual, please feel free to ignore me:

@morgendaemmerung89 @loveinthemindpalace @londonspirit @beccaoftheglen @jeremiebrett @greenapricot @shylockgnomes @chained-to-the-mirror @ironwolf-gone @elennemigo @ben-locked

[tooweirdforyou]

Why are you acting like anywhere is safe? In reality, there will always be darkness where there is light. I don’t understand why you believe that protesting about anon hate will stop it. Anon hate will live, as long as creators thrive. There is a balance in the world for a reason. Honestly, I don’t understand why people care about anon hate like it hasn’t been around for as long as human roamed the earth. I’m not calling you a baby, but I am asking you to look at it from a deeper level. Y’all can scream and shout about this issue, but nothing will change. The cycles of life are fun. Educate yourself chickadee

Hi Anon!

I do agree that there is darkness everywhere, I find it intriguing on how life is like that and often think about it. Please don’t assume that just because I don’t talk about it, I don’t think about it. :) I can assure you I think about this topic very deeply.

“I don’t understand why you believe that protesting about anon hate will stop it.”

I don’t. I’m not protesting. I’m spreading awareness. You may not see there is a difference but I believe there is.

At least talking and addressing about it will help let others know about the issue as plenty of people are also unaware of this stuff. They haven’t experienced it or witnessed it in the real world quite yet.

I’m not going to state my opinions on these topics anymore but do know that I fully understand the balance of life as it is.

Poor vs Rich.

Success vs. Failure.

Top of the food chain vs. Bottom of the food chain.

Predator vs Prey.

I don’t believe everywhere is safe. I know there isn’t a truly safe spot, some are just less dangerous than others.

I simply wished to make this one, this fandom and blog, a less dangerous place for people, to let them talk, express and act freely without too many restrictions.

I’m sorry if I offended you.

-

“Maybe you and your friends are getting hate because you guys have been on your thrones for too long. Let other content creators shine! You call it a fandom but support each other’s shit instead of those who are trying to climb the ladder of success. I witnessed some really good writers leave because they weren’t receiving as much attention as your Mean Girl friends. It you gonna support, support EVERYONE. Y’all got your fame, let someone else have it.”

-

I find it funny that you think that’s the reason. Though I do understand that my mutuals are rather popular, but that’s really no reason to hate for it. Besides, some of them are multi-fandom so them writing for other fandoms actually help with that.

Both new and experienced old writers have worked hard and undoubtedly deserve the attention, but there’s tags, there’s no doubt a few people who definitely read their work and show their support and I try to do my best to reblog others, and not just the ‘popular’ ones.

I don’t consider myself popular at all. I have no experience writing for one piece or on tumblr, but I love to write.

“Climb the ladder of success”?

This isn’t even a competition.

My mutuals all write for fun. They write because they love to do so and want to share and express this creative experiences with others.

This isn’t a game or a contest of superiority. Fame? Seriously? It’s just writing for something they love because they love doing so.

They are just real people who simply want to write for their love. I don’t appreciate you insulting my friends like that and assuming such a thing.

By the way, don’t assume genders either. A few of them are they/them and he/him.

And I do support everyone. And also,

Tumblr isn’t the only platform for writing. There’s Ao3, Fanfiction, Wattpad, Quotev, etc.

There’s room for everyone. No one is hogging one place.

Thank you for your input but please stop.

-

I wasn’t going to respond to this but you insulted my friends and I wasn’t going to leave that alone.

If you actually try to talk to them kindly, you’ll know they are absolutely the nicest, sweetest people I’ve met.

Sil, Nette, Sea, Z, Meli, Kimi, Ash, Nico, Abhi, Roze, Bas, Nille, Ruki, Hazel, Cookie, Emilia, a couple anons, and much, much more.

They all have been so kind to me when I first interacted with them when I first started, and they share their support for me endlessly and I try to do the same of them.

Thank you for your understanding. :)

[chateautae]

💌: check in tag <3

thank you for the tags @hantaev @writtenwhalien @namjooningelsewhere @d-btsfanfics @jiminza @taemaknae @kithtaehyung !! I love you all ☺️💓

1. why did you choose your url?

So i loved my old username (jiminssthetic for the newer readers) but I wanted tae in my username because ofc, he's the loml. I wanted taesthetic or something like that but someone had already taken it, so I wanted another chic and classy name with tae because he's got that vibe, and when the wifey @hantaev and I were brainstorming for names with castle or palace in them she thought of chateautae!! and I instantly fell in love with it <3

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them?

Yes!! I've got my fic rec blog @chateaureads !! I made it to show all the lovely authors of tumblr some well deserved love and to keep track of what I read. Check it out lovelies 💓

3. how long have you’ve been on tumblr?

Oof, weighty question. In general, I've been on tumblr for probably 7 years but I turned this blog into a bts/fanfic writing one in November of 2020!

4. do you have a queue tag?

I sure do, it's called "a queue with luv" because of course, boy with luv and I just love spreading love <3

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I'd started reading so much fanfic on here and I used to be a wattpad fanfic writer with a 50+ chaptered novel on there so I thought shit, why don't I try my hand at this tumblr thing? I also wanted to get back into writing after abandoning it for years.

6. why did you choose your icon?

pLEASE do I even need to explain? I adored that look on Taehyung immediately because it's so him, and I loved the salmony, blushy pink colour of the photo which is the theme of my blog!

7. why did you choose your header?

Another case of @hantaev choosing the photo!! I wanted a very floral, whimsical sort of feel to my blog? So I wanted a nice photo of a chateau (for my name ofc) with flowers and she found that photo. Then I used that ethereal photo of the tannies and @kithtaehyung made the header!!

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

I think it's here I come!! Currently it's 4 notes away from 3k? Which is entirely fucking insane for something I wrote on a whim in one night 😭

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I am terrible at keeping track, but I have many I'm very, very grateful for 💓

10. how many followers do you have?

Depends on how bad you wanna know 😌

11. how many people do you follow?

I think 150?? I don't follow many people because I like to keep my timeline curated, but I love finding new people to follow!!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

I think? I don't quite understand what it is but given how much random shit I post, I would say I have.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

At least once, I love checking in on the asks I get!!

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

The only person I fight is @hantaev cause she's a headache of a wife I love too much 🙄

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

For important issues, fuck yeah. For dumb shit, fuck no <3

16. do you like tag games?

Yes!! I always love seeing everyone's answers hehe ☺

17. do you like ask games?

Definitely!! I love seeing people in my ask box 🥺

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Tbh there are so many talented and well-known authors I know and I'm simply glad to even be considered mutuals, fame doesn't matter to me and I'm just glad everyone's getting the recognition and love they deserve on their wonderful stories!!

19. do i have a crush on a mutual?

All of them they all have sexy brains 😍

tagging: no clue because I’m terribly late to this already 😭

[mytrashs-blog]

Movie Star

Pairing: BFF! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Angst, SO MUCH ANGST, swearing, Tom being an asshole, there’s a mention of an injury...

Summary: Tom is your best friend, but fame can change a lot of things.

Word Count: 2,609 (Probably the longest one piece I’ve done)

A/N: So! This is an entry for @unholyhaz and @spidey-waffles11 #marvellouswafflescelebration writing challenge. I am actually quite proud of this baby and how freaking painful it is. I was having a hard time with the prompt because I kept wanting to write it the same way it happened in the movie, so yeah, I’m very happy with this. Enjoy! (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Part two

(This pic doesn’t belong to me, I took it off google, but I did edit it a little)

You never thought your friendship with Tom would end up like this. Ruined. Potentially forever, and the worst part is that you can’t even be mad about it. He’s been dreaming about becoming big in the movie industry since you were like 7 and dancing ballet at the studio everyday, so him getting big should be something to be happy about, right?

Only it isn’t. And not because he’s always busy and barely even texts back, not even because he never has time to hang out anymore, nor is it because he seems to always be in the other side of the world either filming another damn Marvel movie or any other movie, or promoting his work. No, all of those reasons were not enough to wreck your friendship. What finally did it was the fact that he became so full of himself that you couldn’t stand hearing him talking when you did get to see him. He’s kind of an asshole now.

So you snapped. You were out in a pub with him, Harrison, the twins and a couple of your friends, Tom was telling you about how unacceptable it was that his manager tried to get him, to spend a night in LA in a 4 star hotel instead of a 5 star or a damn Airbnb apartment, how he was tired of this neglecting behaviour from a person that eats from the 5% of his paycheck, and you lost it.

You may be bestfriends with this guy, but you definetely didn’t have the same economical status, and you have to work a normal job like everybody else, you don’t get 5 star hotels ever, for gods sake you don’t even get to travel that often, the only time you’ve been out of the country was when Tom took you to Atlanta to do some reshoots back when the first Spider-Man happened, so you made well sure to tell him he was behaving like a brat, posh and whiny rich kid. And he didn’t like it, so he called you a jealous uptight bitch that’s bitter because an ankle injury killed off her career, which was a low blow. So you stormed out of the place.

It was a pretty public scene and there were a few videos from different angles of nearby tables at the pub and a few pictures of both of you screaming at each other, and of you getting out of the place while fuming, and of Tom getting his car a driving off while visibly pissed. It’s been the story of the moment (at least in your life). All your social media was full of Tom’s fans calling you a fake friend, a bitch, a brat, whore, slut… some even sent death threats, which was a bit disturbing, but not surprising.

Of course Tom wasn’t helping at all either, he stopped following you, but didn’t block you so you could see him liking all the rude messages directed to you, and he was being very very vocal about the importance of having real friends and how loyalty is a very important thing and how he had to learn that the hard way very recently. So yeah, like a whiny rich boy.

You were scrolling down instagram, trying to focus on something else, but the notifications were still blowing with comments and tags on rude posts, so decided enough was enough and you started an Instagram Live, not even 1 minute in and you already had a handful of people watching and commenting snake emojis and very strong language words, but you ignored it as you started talking.

“Hello everyone, thanks for all the lovely wishes, I apreciate them a lot, you don’t wanna know. So, I’m here because, since I don’t go around doing interviews for a job, I have to find an outlet to let out my side of the story, because all stories have more than one side and one shouldn’t decide on a side unless you’ve heard all sides of it- the story, I mean.

Tom and I became best friends since day one of us meeting, that was 16 years ago, we were always inseparable and I always knew I had someone to rely on and he had someone to rely on in me. Pretty strong bond. I always knew he wanted to be an actor, the best actor he could be, and I always knew he would make it, because he’s always been so incredibly talented and dedicated and he was very determined, so when he finally got his big chance being casted as Spider-Man I was the first one to celebrate him. As his fame and recognition started growing, he started hanging out with a lot more celebrities and he started picking up on personality traits that aren’t that cool, but at the beggining it was so minimal that I’d just ignore it.

By the time he was filming Far from Home, I think, he was a full on movie star. Every place we’d go, a few cameras would follow and fans would show up, and he loved putting on a show for everyone, to the point where he’d ignore anyone that’s with him. But that’s no the worst part. I can forgive him for having an ego, we all have one, some are bigger than others and that’s cool, but what’s not cool is being condescending to the people who work with or for you. I dont’t believe in people from first or second class, for me everyone is equal and everyone’s work is just as dignified and worthy as anyone else’s, that’s why I finally lost my respect for Tom, because he started treating people that don’t have the same level of privilege as him like they’re less than him. That’s not the way we were raised, those are not the values that my best friend has and I know it’s all because of all the media attention he has.

You all give everything to him in a silver platter, so he now became a bratty movie star, another self centered celebrity that feels entitled. So congratulations. You have created a celebrity, but you have wrecked a human being inside. And I don’t feel like I deserved to be attacked this way for not wanting to put up with being belittled and treated like a peasant. Thanks.”

You finished the live and you broke crying, of course. It hurts to know that your best friend is no longer, that you’re never gonna have all those amazing midnight adventures. Like when you escaped from your houses at 15 to go to that crazy party all the school was attending but your mothers wouldn’t let you go. You remember how you got drunk after just one or two beers and ended up walking and giggling back home at 3am. You were in so much trouble the next day.

Or when he got casted as Peter Parker and you were so happy that you spent the whole night laying in his bed talking about all the hard work you both had done to make your dreams come true. That night he told you how he was proud of you for working so hard on your dancing career and how you were his favourite dancer ever. And you told him that you always knew he’d make it. You promised each other to always be there for the other.

He was the first to arrive to the hospital when you had the accident onstage that ended your career, he held you on those long nights when you’d cry and cry, he was there when you were angry at the world for not letting you have your dream. He helped through everything and never left your side until you were back on your feet and you had a new plan for your life.

He’s not here now though. He’s the one holding the gun on your back and you were the one that threw the first punch. You feel guilty. You ruined everything. You should’ve told him that he shouldn’t behave that way. Of all people, it should’ve been you holding his feet on the ground, and now it all went to shit because of you. It’s all your fault and maybe you do deserve the furious fans and the creepy reporters jumping on you every now and then, and maybe you deserve all those messages because maybe you were a fake friend.

You really don’t have the evergy to get out of bed for the days that followed. It could’ve been just two days, or a week, maybe even months for all you knew; but you stayed in bed, you would cry, eat and sleep and nothing more. Your phone was in some unknown place of your house, you hadn’t even attempted to find it and maybe it ran out of battery long ago, but who cares? definetely not you. You were walking around in your pajamas, looking for ice cream in your freezer or maybe some chocolate bars, or chips… or whatever came to view first, but you were interrupted by the ring of your doorbell and then a knock on your door, you thought about ignoring it, but then they knocked again so you brought yourself to the door and opened it.

You froze when you saw Tom on the other side of your door, looking probably just as destroyed as you do, red puffy eyes, messy hair, he was wearing sweatpants and an old shirt, an unusual look since now he’s always trying to look his absolute best. This guy in front of you resembled your best friend since childhood more than any of the high fashion versions of Tom, but it still ached in your heart that he was in this state in your front door unannounced.

“Tom… w-what are you doing h-here?”

“I uh… read a rumor and I needed to see it wasn’t true.”

“What?” You suddenly feel your blood boiling. The only reason he came was because of some rumor he read, he doesn’t regret anything, he doesn’t miss you, he just wants to see if some stupid rumor is true. You go to close the door in his face but he pushes the door.

“You wanna know what it was? Y/N listen to me, please!” You try to push harder, but he’s way stronger than you are so you give in and let him in, but the frown never leaves your face and you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m listening.” You really don’t want to get your guard down, but the way Tom is looking at you right now makes it really hard. He looks at you the way one looks at a youth treasure you found after years of longing. The way you look at a flower that grows against all odds in the middle of a desserted field. And it’s making you feel very aware of him. You notice how the bags under his eyes are deeper than ever, his skin doesn’t look as flawless and polished as it did the last time you saw him, you can even see some spots around his forehead, you notice how he’s still unable to tame that eyebrow and how they also look a little unplucked, you can also see the tarce of a beard, the kind that tells you that maybe he didn’t shave this morning and even the day before that, and his hair is not only messier but it’s also longer. And it’s grounding to see him look so human, vulnerable and real right in front of you.

“There were some rumors going around that you might’ve… that you maybe… y-you had..”  For some reason he was unable to look you in the eye, and every time he tried to speak he’d take a small step closer to you. “That you maybe had… comitted… suicide…”

You froze where you stood, and maybe your jaw fell slack, and maybe you even stopped breathing, where the fuck did he read that? What the actual fuck are people saying? your blood started boiling with rage, not even at Tom anymore, but at the world, why does everyone suddenly feel entitled to say those terrible things and why? Because you haven’t been on social media in a long time? People seriously need to understand that other people exist outside the internet and the have lives outside social media.

“I seriously hate people. Well… here I am, alive and well, is that everything?” you ask as you raise a brow, expecting him to say something else, but he looks at you taken a back, he’s at a loss of words because he was expecting this to fix things.

“Umh… yeah?”

“Okay then, I’ll walk you to the door.” You say flatly and start making your way back to your front door.

“Y/N wait… I do need to say something else” He grabs you by the wrist and turns you around, you end up mere inches away from him, his hand still holding you. His gaze roams all over your face, he looks down at your lips while licking his, but then he looks up to your eyes. “I’m sorry. About everything. I was a dick, and maybe I am an idiot for realizing I don’t want to lose you until I read those terrible things and it hurt as hell to even imagine a world without you in it. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without your surprise texts when I’m away filming, or your weird gif replies, or our film nights and crazy getaways. You’re the best friend that I have. And I love you, Y/N. I really, really do, and I’m sorry it took me so long to admit that to you.” If this had happened a few months ago, you would have kissed him already. You loved him for such a long time, it almost hurt you, you had all those feelings for him stored inside you and at times it felt like they couldn’t fit anymore and you’d just explode, but that changed. You changed. And so did he.

“I accept your apology, Tom.” you took a long pause before speaking again, and you could see in Tom’s eyes that it was killing him to wait, every second feeling longer than the previous, until you spoke again. “But it’s gonna take a lot more than that to fix our friendship. I’m sorry I don’t share your feelings, but I received death threats over twitter, so many hate comments coming to me everyday… and you were liking them, encouraging people to keep attacking me! You expect me to just forget about that and act like it never happened? And you expect me to just throw myself at your arms and live happily ever after? It really doesn’t work like that, Tom. You have to go now.” He stayed looking at you for a moment, and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, but your own heart was breaking aswell. Maybe you could fix this, but it would take more than this, and right now you could not see him in your apartment.

“Please leave Tom” Your voice was just a pleading whisper at this point, but Tom did let go of your wrist and you sighed when you felt the cold breeze hit the skin where his hand had been. He walked past you and opened the door, taking one last look at you as one single tear fell from your eyes. And the door closed.

---

Tagging a few people that might be interested so it doesn’t flop :)

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

[hecohansen31]

Angel

Jim Mason+Influencer! Reader:

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I am very happy to have you back in this last episode of this miniseries, which I really hope you’ll like, alongside, again, if you have more ideas and want to send asks about this verses... I AM READY FOR IT, BRING IT ON BITCHES!

Also... I have said that this fic might be a bit self-indulgent and it is because, although I am not an influencer of any kind, I am very active on my social medias (mostly instagram, if you want to follow me or anything, and we are mutuals, just DM me) and this July I ended up hitting a very bad kind of exhaustion from that platform.

I honestly ended up feeling extremely shitty, alongside discovering many fake people who were around me, and for this reason I am happy that I managed to get here on tumblr (although there are some fake people on here, but like I don’t have to interact with them).

So, although the cyberbullying part of the story is only fictional, the exhaustion that took over reader, ended up being a reality for me, a bit ago, and although I am all better (better than before), I just wanted to remind you to take healthy pauses from social medias.

Also please don’t shame people who work on them, alongside use them as an outlet for anxiet and stress (like me).

I really hope you won’t judge me too badly, after this...

Also I’ll just remind you to show some love, if you like this, with hearts, reblogs (possibly saying something) and if you have anything to say about these, my DMs and asks are always open!

Much love!

SUMMARY: Jim Mason takes care of his social media exhausted girlfriend.

WORDS: 1,7 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Cyberbulling And Exhaustion from Social Medias (I WASN’T CYBERBULLIED, although I had my fair share of assholish comment, NOT HERE, but the cyberbullying was only fictional, whereas exhaustion is something I experienced back in July)

Jim knew of his girlfriend’s social media fame.

Although he wasn’t informed about the entire thing and how it worked, being more focused on staying in the moment and living it, he was proud of what she achieved with her photos and captions, even going as far as helping her shot a few.

He still remembered the way she smiled gently meanwhile he tried to take photos of her, meanwhile she pointed out each cheap tip she knew, starting with “shoot from a lower angle than my height, so that I might appear taller” and “make sure to take the right light”.

She might have seemed shallow to others, but whenever Jim cried his heart out in her arm, she only had the sweetest words for him, calming him down enough that they fell asleep calmly, next to each other in her simple pull-out.

She cuddled closer to him, whenever she understood he needed it and made sure to always be there, next to him, her entire attention focused on him.

He had never checked her profile, mostly because she had pleaded with him not to give it a look.

“It’s silly” she had mumbled, meanwhile she had tried to get his phone off his hands “… and embarrassing!”.

And Jim had respected her wishes, offering just his help with photos or ideas, but whenever they were together, the entire social media thought was off the rack between them, preferring a direct conversation, although sometimes she got in overload and at that time social medias were her outlet.

But sometimes they were also her damnation.

Jim had noticed the difference in his girlfriend’s mood, since the start of the week: quieter and definitely less happy, a mumble being her way to speak, if she spoke up, clearly not energetic in the slightest and definitely not focused.

His knowledge of drugs and their effects had made him think that she might have been under those, but slowly the unfocused glaze had moved from rage to sadness: one day she was moping on the beach and another she almost got into a rage-filled fight with whatever was not working.

Jimmy had tried his best to understand her, but she didn’t want to talk about it with him so he tried to stay close to her, but the bad week moved to two bad weeks and there Jim had thought about searching through her social, mostly due to the fact that she focused on them more, even neglecting herself and him a bit.

“I just need to write the last paragraph” she had mumbled, meanwhile she had refused to stop writing to sleep a bit or “I will eat after I edited this photo, I mean… I don’t need food”.

It all got Jim worried, more and more.

And then he had decided that he had only one chance to discover what was going on.

He had opened Instagram, her major social network, and then had moved to her profile, the public one (she had a private one, full of photos that made Jim’s heart jump: candid of them together, not professionally taken but… Jim loved them all the same) and had gone through it.

He had first seen that she hadn’t any stories going on, which was unusual since she did her best to try to at least show a bit of her everyday life each day.

“So, my followers don’t feel left out” she had mumbled and although Jim had thought it was a strange voyeuristic idea, he had just hugged her and called her “angel”.

“Angel” was also part of her username on Instagram, due mostly to her followers, which had started calling her “angel”, because of the intrinsic sweetness of her posts and the personality she showed on the social network.

The stories thing had been already strange, but also her follower count had diminished, nothing too bad, but he had heard his angel protest about that.

“I just can’t believe that these people unfollow me just because I don’t follow them back and you know what is worst… I have talked to them… I felt like… we were friends”.

But he had soon discovered the true reason behind his girlfriend’s sadness: the comments honestly made him angry.

The most recent ones were ruthless: “you are fat”, “kill yourself” “you are annoying”…

And they went on, although some were sweeter, clearly (Y/N)’s true fans.

He had honestly hoped it was a troll, nothing but a joke.

But those comments had been serious, since he hadn’t been able to recognize the familiar path of a troll, instead they were real people, under fake accounts or their real accounts sharing that hate.

He honestly hadn’t been able to stop himself from feeling furious now that he understood what was going on, and meanwhile he had signaled each negative comment, he had seen the stories light up, the first one of the day.

A photo with a writing on it: “guys I just wanted to let you know that I will be taking a pause, due to all the hate I have been getting, I don’t know when I will get back”.

Although the text has been intelligently written and concealed her emotion, he had clearly known she was crying meanwhile writing it.

He knew how much work she put into the social media, although it never was her job, she had started, long before meeting him, using it as a relief method from her own problem, so to be let down this way….

… it obviously hurt her.

After he had signaled enough accounts he had just tried to let the rage burn down, meanwhile he had created a plan to make his angel feel better: his first idea had been to go out, knowing that an expensive dinner and a few dances might get her distracted, but this would just push just the argument further.

So, he had just organized a home-made dinner (which meant him ordering take-out), bribing her to attend it with the promise of a lot of cuddles and a make-out session and most importantly to watch for the umpteenth times her favorite movie.

She clearly felt a bit better, when she finally walked in his house, being swept off her feet by an ecstatic Jim, who gently kissed her forehead, before he had put her down, leading her to the little kitchen of his apartment, the one his father had gotten him once he had gone out of rehab.

It was nice, although pretty small, but Jim loved it all more, and since he had met his angel it had all been better.

They had made so many memories, alongside she had helped perfecting it all.

“Ma’am, please sit down” he helped her to the dinner table, taking her jean jacket and her bag, coming back with an open bottle of wine, which he poured in their inadequate glasses, and with the first course, (Y/N)’s favorite course.

“Oh, you went all out” her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she was indeed grateful, holding out her hand to grab his, which was kept tangled with his for the entire dinner

She talked about her day, chirping happily meanwhile she avoided carefully the social media argument and Jim didn’t pressure her, just watching her eat, in peaceful silence and only when they moved to wash the dishes he grumbled lowly:

-… sweetie, I checked your page on Instagram- he felt her grow stiff next to him -… I know that it embarrasses you, but I thought that you had been so gloomy these past weeks and I thought that your social media might have been bothering you, extremely… so I had to do something…-.

-Oh Jimmy! – she was avoiding his eyes, clearly ashamed -… I am so sorry you had to see all that… it…-.

-You are getting hate thrown your way for nothing, (Y/N)- he wanted to make sure she knew it wasn’t her fault In the slightest -…I can’t honestly fathom people doing this to you, whereas you have been nothing but an angel with them-.

-I am not sure… I mean…- a sad smile was on her face -… I am pretty sure that many people will call me a bitch with no problem…-.

-… well I am gonna fight them all, babe- he brought her closer and smacked a sound kiss on her head -… you don’t deserve this hate, believe me, I spent two hours trying to ban each asshole-.

-That is incredibly sweet, Jimmy Boy- she giggled, but a few tears shone on his eyes -… but I don’t think that it will stop the hate from spreading; that’s why I decided to take a holiday-.

Jim saw that an honest smile shone on her face and moved the rag onto its hook to hug her better, bearhugging her and gently caressing her back, gently, and shushing her cries.

-Angel of mine, I am so so sorry I was not able to know more about this- he mumbled, feeling a low protest -… I honestly thought it wasn’t that bad-.

-I didn’t even talk about it with you- she justified softly, getting a bit of distance between them to be able to watch him in the eyes -… I wanted to handle on my own, because, at first, I thought it wasn’t anything worrying, and then… I just felt like social media were a thing I needed to solve alone, my thing-.

He knew this came from all the prejudices linked with her passion for social medias: he had heard about some of her friends annoying her saying not only she was asocial, but also self-absorbed.

She hadn’t been very open about her life on them with him, also because of this, thinking that he would be making fun of her, exactly like her “friends”.

-I know that you take pride into your profile, but… you can lean onto me, I am here for you- he promised her looking at her in the eyes with extreme seriousness, before hugging her close, keeping his lips on her forehead, a comforting gesture -… I am still extremely proud of you for recognizing that you were having troubles and deciding to distance yourself from that… you are one smart angel-.

She giggled at the nickname, before freeing herself from his hug, although she still felt extremely bad, a smile shone on her face.

-Now you better get in your comfortable pajama, because this smart angel wants to watch for the umpteenth time (Y/F/F), with a lot of cuddles- and she turned around, getting a slight slap on her ass from Jim.

-… don’t forget the make-out session! -.

---

Hello lovelies!

Thank you for coming this far, in my self-indulgent mumbling and thank you for sticking me all through this series, I really hope you enjoyed it, and in case some of you want to read the previous chapters, you might find them here! (Duncan) (Michael)

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[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 9

• So in some ways this chapter is a refreshing change from the Walker Ranch, for the other...it does seem a little shoehorned-in and last minute to me. And...if the only chapter where Hana gets substantial content is one that sounds kinda last minute - that's usually not a good sign.

• Here is what you can block if you don't want to see this on your dash: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• TW: Discussions on controlling parenting, brief mention of infertility, rambles about my visits to my therapist and what I learned there - also connected to controlling parenting.

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel and @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal

Drake: The BizzysChoices YouTube channel

Maxwell: @itsbrindleybinch and @ladatheimpaler

Liam: @callmetippytumbles and me.

• I was happy to see Olivia but could the writers just...not make Hana sound so confused, to make Olivia's route look more appealing? Olivia may be more at home with some of these tactics but if Hana did as much research as her eloquent monologue on the Auvernese Hot Stones suggests she did, she wouldn't just be standing there going "me scared". I know logically Olivia's option needs to be the one having an edge, but there are ways you can work around that better.

• Title: Ladies' Night

Alternative Title: This is How Hana Does Her Research:

And This is How Isabella Does Her Research:

• "Just us girls", Isabella says. I'm going to get a headache from the number of times she says that while trying out new torture techniques on me.

• Liam warns the MC that this might be a test, Hana offers to come with the MC, and whoever her LI is, seems reluctant to send her off (though I have yet to see the Maxwell version of this, since in his friend route he seems encouraging of it once Hana steps up to be with us).

• Let's be honest, Hana is coming because she knows that more often than not her advice has been the only thing that had saved our asses. She KNOWS.

• Hana is also the genius who found the loophole in that message.

• DRAKE is the one suggesting Olivia as backup for our trip (I see a pattern here. Drake is the only one who recognized Olivia when she pranked him, now Drake is the first one recommending her name for this trip. What gives?).

• So I've played this chapter both with Olivia's diamond option, and without. Her duchy takes pride in its warriors and in shows of military strength, so she is more than used to their rhetoric. There is also an interesting juxtaposition given between fire (Auvernal) and ice (Lythikos), as one can see in the hot stones scene. The chapter is clearly set up in the expectation that you will buy this scene.

• Hana is fascinated by the architecture and modern glam of the place, but it is Olivia who hints that Auvernal may be facing financial difficulties, wondering what may be "hiding behind the glitter and polish".

• We finally meet Queen Isabella, and for a royal who wants to prove that they can do diplomacy as well as they can do blustering shows of machoism (like her husband), she seems to be failing big time.

• For all the "research" Isabella seems to have been doing on the ladies in the court, all she knows about Hana is that she has a penchant for horseriding, had a failed engagement, and wasn't chosen by Liam.

• What? Practically everyone has seen how well Hana performs at court. In my playthrough, her fighting skills both at the boutique before the wedding, and her role in defeating Anton, have become legendary. She became a Guardian of the Realm. If you're married to the MC she is a freaking duchess and I'm pretty sure the woman who married her would know deep down that Hana deserved that title more. Hana is a freaking fashion icon (as you can tell by what Ana says at her engagement photoshoot and when little Valerie from Lythikos tells her in Chapter 3). Like...like...this stuff is common knowledge. Isabella doesn't HAVE any other excuse besides "I suck so bad at reading up that my term paper would end in a single paragraph and be marked 'F'. Same goes for my pathetic excuse of a research team."

• Also why is Hana the only person getting dragged for not getting chosen? Even Madeleine and Olivia don't face this as much, and one of them was dumped twice by two Princes!

•

(Top three screenshots are mine, the second row is from @callmetippytumbles playthrough, and the third is from @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal Hana playthrough).

The first choice calmly has the MC list Hana's best qualities, while the other two clearly call out Isabella on her clear lack of respect for Hana, who is a guest in her home that she should have researched about properly. The last option not only speaks of her best traits but also of her being the MC's wife (and by extension, a prominent duchess).

• Isabella and her pathetic excuse for an "apology". "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that would be such a sore subject". That's a non-apology, a "sorry you're so thin-skinned" apology. She isn't even admitting she's clearly wrong and hasn't done her homework. She's still saying that Hana is merely all of the things she mentioned - just snidely placing the blame on them for being so sensitive instead. Like...fuck you Isabella.

•

I think Olivia should remember that she's lucky Hana "happens to be the forgiving sort" too, because that's how she got away with saying exactly the same thing last book. I like Olivia, but...hypocrisy much?

• LMAO @ Isabella when she says Olivia that she recognizes her because "might recognizes might", and Olivia is like "funny. I don't recognize you". THIS TEA IS SCALDING.

• "There's more to Auvernal than Bradshaw's blustering", she says...after she's left a less-than-favourable impression two minutes into our conversation. Even Theresa Sutton from D&D Book 1 would do this better than you did, and there was literally no filter between her mouth and her brain.

• Isabella presents an over-the-top, flashy silver gown for the MC to wear, stating that wearing a dress from an Auvernese designer, in a modern Auvernese style, would signal to people the beginning of their "alliance" (jumping the gun there a bit, aren't you, Isabella?)

• Gaww at the LI reactions!

(Screenshots: Drake's from BizzysChoices' Youtube channel, Maxwell's from @ladatheimpaler, and Hana's from Abhirio's YouTube channel)

• Olivia's best moment in the chapter comes when she has to complete the saying "when all you have is a hammer" ("smite them with the hammer!" Olivia offers enthusiastically). They're talking about Bradshaw, who Isabella's telling us would rather strong-arm people into doing his bidding. Babe you're not exactly very different in that respect 🙄

• Isabella lays two major tests to us - one is to have us give her military troops (who greet the guests with a parade) an impromptu rousing speech, and the second is to withstand the punishing heat of the famed Auvernese Hot Stones massage treatment. Of course, she hides her plans behind her "all shared between friends!" demeanor.

• What Olivia does throughout is draw upon her knowledge of warrior mentality, to explain what Isabella has in store for you. This meeting isn't just a message sent to the MC to remind her who she is dealing with - it's a way for Isabella to gauge whether the MC really will count as an ally in terms that they are familiar with. Remember - Auvernal who is perhaps in not as great a financial state as they lead us to believe - perhaps needs Cordonia more than Cordonia needs them - so in their eyes the alliance is falling through anyway, but Isabella is also going to figure out who she is dealing with.

Which is why Olivia - who lives and thrives in a similar type of community - is able to capture the pulse of what Isabella is doing to them.

(First four screenshots are from a playthrough where I chose Olivia's diamond option, and second from a playthrough where I didn't)

Hana's own mentality differs to a large extent from this. She is competitive, she has the ability to put up a good fight and defeat an opponent (esp one who underestimates her)...but her larger attitude doesn't exactly favour war. In a lot of ways both she and Liam operate on similar mindsets - yes war is necessary, yes when the situation calls for it we can put up a good fight...but at the end of the day both of their belief systems lie in a King Fabian outlook of "safety is important but a society thrives when there is space for art and culture to thrive".

In some of Olivia and Hana's exchanges you can see that Hana is the more artistic and whimsical of the two - which is why her ace move at the end involves both introducing Isabella into an aspect of their own culture, and on wine, which Hana is more than fairly familiar with. Her interests lie elsewhere and so she may not be able to get into their heads and suss out their motives as well as Olivia can, but I'm pretty sure if she's researched so much that she knows about their Hot Stone spa treatment, she would have at least a more generalized knowledge of this than the screenshots suggest.

• We're now at a plaza where Isabella has arranged for the Auvernese military troops to do a parade for the Cordonian guests. It's both a way of convincing the MC to pick them, and it's a veiled threat if she doesn't.

• My failplay of the speech brought up this gem:

Poor Hana, having to cheer for us even when we fail. She's the real MVP!

• So basically getting the speech right is simple, whatever is rabble-rousing and reminds the troops that the Cordonians also admire strength and valour and bravery, works for them. If you fail in this task, then Isabella takes over and rouses the troops on her own before dismissing them.

• Isabella FINALLY admitting that Hana's a skilled diplomat and does amazing research. LMAO bitch she even knows what your favourite fucking vintage is and all you know about her is her failed engagement? Admit it Izzy, you're a failure.

• The next is the traditional Auvernese Hot Stone spa treatment, which Hana tells us is tied to the geography of this country. There is a fair bit of natural volcanic activity in Auvernal itself (no wonder they're a people that operate in metaphors of heat and fire!) and the hot stones used in this therapeutic massage treatment come out from that. (they're most likely referring to basalt stones, which are used in hot stone therapy in a lot of different cultures. And it's true, the heat and the medicinal nature of heated basalt stones are supposed to relax muscles, help with pain management, stimulate the circulatory system, among other things. In Ayurveda, the treatment is called Shila Abhyanga and is done with circular stones of different sizes).

• There is nothing therapeutic about this trip, though, sadly. Very often this kind of treatment is used at particular spots on the body (most of the time I've seen these stones placed along the length of the back). It's not "grab someone's forearm and burn it with a stone". Isabella's attempt is clearly to expose us to pain and see how much of it we can take.

• Some of the MC's "stronger" responses are 🔥 🔥 🔥 lol, like "I've read Twitter takes hotter than this".

•

The MC and Olivia has come far enough in their relationship - either as friends or as people who grudgingly respect each other - that Olivia will stand up for her even when she shows weakness.

• Interestingly, if you do succeed in this "test", the narrative describes Isabella's face as lighting up with a "small smile...and she eyes you as if seeing you in a new light" (the fail option shows her looking smug). Which...given her behaviour in the wine scene, I think requires closer inspection!

• One of my favourite lines this chapter is when Olivia tells Isabella that she can endure hotter stones but chooses not to, because "Lythikos warriors prefer ice in their veins". I can of like the juxtaposition of geographies used in their language - Auvernal seems to have volcanic activity, so heat features more in their language, Lythikos is situated close to the Alps, so snow, ice and winter are their signs of endurance. Basically both communities operate based on the logic that endurance to pain is what heightens your strength. "If you can breathe you can stand, if you can stand you can fight".

• Hana struggles with the hot stones, in a scene that reminds me of Book 1 where she struggled with her first bite of a Cordonian apple. Hana tends to be quite open when she has a strong reaction to something, and is often not able to hide it even if she wants to. Which honestly I find quite refreshing about her.

• Isabella in a fail play can be a real asshole, making snide remarks and then flipping the blame onto the people who react to what she says. When she insults Hana and the MC reacts, she doesn't bother to admit she is wrong - instead flips the blame on them so that it seems more like they're the sensitive ones. If you don't succeed in the hot stones test, and Hana and Olivia respond to her jabs, she tells them "there's no need to get defensive. It's all in good humour, of course", and makes them seem like the thin-skinned ones. Honestly it's that part of her attitude that is a problem, rather than the actual snide remarks. That she will create a negative situation then act like you were the cause.

• Now apparently it's time for petit fours (and I'm a little sore they only describe the vanilla buttercream coz I would have totally loved to see descriptions of those Auvernese sweets in detail!) and casual chatting. Olivia cautions us to figure out what the catch is, and Isabella is mildly impressed by the MC's directness, but she tells us about her intentions (to make the alliance official - including the parts where our child must be promised to one of their twins) either way.

• Isabella eventually softens as the conversations go ahead, confiding in the group that before the twins were born, conceiving was difficult for her. The MC has the opportunity to share a secret of her own (either homesickness, or feeling pressured into becoming a parent, or tiring of the politics and the pretence). Hana - married or otherwise - isn't allowed to say much here, to the surprise of absolutely no one.

• Olivia distracts Isabella at some point with barbed compliments post this confession session, allowing Hana and the MC to plan their next move. Most of this day has gone into Isabella testing us, seeing if we measure up, her games. Hana now gives us an opportunity to turn the tables on her.

• This is where Hana has a clear advantage. Just as warrior communities, battle strategy and defence is Olivia's forte - culture, cuisine and the arts are clearly Hana's. She knows about the Hot Stones on a cultural and geographic level even though the mentality escapes her, she has even read up on Isabella's preference for wine and has observed her closely enough to understand Isabella's competitiveness, and suggest a tactic that could help us gain an edge over her.

• The scene begins with Hana charming Isabella into showing them her wine cellar and suggesting a drinking game. In a callback to the Madeleine drinking game scene in Book 3, Hana mentions Cordonia's Most (which was what they played with Madeleine), but zeroes in on "Two Truths and a Lie instead". Here is what you see from each of the women:

MC:

Two Truths -

Being in love with Liam even when he was engaged to Madeleine/Coming to Cordonia for Liam then falling for her LI.

Second truth is dialogue dependent (never regretted coming to Cordonia/fended off her kidnappers with her own hands/impressed by Isabella (no)

Lie -

Never been blackmailed. Isabella however believes this one is true and loses.

Olivia:

Two truths -

Greatest fear is failure to be perfect

Counted every exit before entering the cellar

Wanted to kill the MC when they first met (Isabella assumed this to be a lie)

Lie -

Came to Auvernal unarmed because she trusts Isabella (she clearly didn't do her research with Olivia either).

Hana:

Two truths -

Greatest fear is failure to be perfect (Isabella assumes this to be the lie).

Always envied the MC

Lie -

Dyed her hair pink as a teen.

Isabella has two rounds of this. This is what the first round is like:

Two truths 1.0 -

Never wanted children

Married Bradshaw for money

Lie 1.0 -

Dismissed a servant for over-steeping her tea (what did you do then, kill him? 😱)

Two Truths and a Lie 2.0

Now, we don't know for sure which one is the lie, since that game is never completed (I suspect it's the one about being born into the royal family?) but we do know now that Bradshaw never actually has seen or done combat firsthand, even though he can strategize and order troops and he's won several medals for "combat". This is the state secret that the scene promises, which will give us an advantage in the future chapters.

• Thoughts I had while reading this scene:

- The one from the MC about fighting her kidnappers is very much a callback to TCaTF. A major development for Kenna's character in Book 1 is to prove she is different from her ancestors - that she will fight alongside her people, not make them fight for her. The turning point of her story in Book 1 is when she tells Gabriel - her guard and guardian - that that instead of depending on him, she will fight the leader of the mercenaries herself.

- Also, LMAO @ Isabella believing our guards defeated Anton for us. Izzy my courtiers and I literally used scissors and shoes and clipboards to defeat assassins in a boutique. Mara and Bastien could never.

- As I mentioned before, the drinking game tradition is a callback to Madeleine's scene. But with less of forcing Hana to butter up to the woman who abused her for our convenience, and more space for her to actually talk.

- I'm going to take notes of those exits, thanks Olivia.

- There is a whole bunch you learn about Isabella here and there are hints that she feels stifled in this environment. Her first choices for the game revolve around truths about her married life: the fact that it was a political alliance and that she never actually wanted children (which adds another layer to the pain she speaks about when speaking of the struggle she had to conceive, because then it comes from a place of immense pressure and probably means that she felt extremely isolated and alone at the time). When Hana talks about how conflicted she is, it's Isabella who offers her ways to release that fury and energy (screaming, breaking glasses). Interestingly, she speaks of these things as what she does when she "feels the walls closing in".

- One thing to notice as well, is Isabella's reaction after she has realized she's spilled out the truth about Bradshaw's military merits. She shrewedly notes what our intentions must have been, and calls us out on them, but there is little to no anger involved in the moment. She only notes that "Cordonia gets more and more interesting", and while the game does not continue, Isabella does seem eerily calm in the aftermath. I don't have any concrete ideas yet what it must all mean, but there are a few ways it could go. She could either be pushing back in her own way against Bradshaw and the Auvernese royalty, or have another card up her sleeve that she knows we don't have a clue about yet.

- Hana gets to elaborate on her 'truths and lies' if the MC asks: she speaks about her envy for the MC emerging from the fact that the MC is confident, bold and questions her self-worth a lot less than Hana has learned to. The other two are tied to the aftermath of the controlling parenting she has grown up with. With the pink hair option, she speaks of her parents as if they are still there, still can control her choices, as if she cannot remove herself from the fear that she will disappoint them even if they are physically away from her.

Hana: Are you kidding? My parents will kill me!

MC: I think you're a little beyond their reach by now.

There's a lot said there in so little.

My favourite, though, is the one on 'perfection'.

-

I love the idea of perfection as being something to be frustrated by rather than something to aspire to. Hana speaks of this striving for perfection starting out as something she did to 'earn' Lorelai's love, and how that became something she kept doing over and over until it became her default - leading to the point where she can no longer be imperfect even though she has the opportunity and the support system (even if it's really not that great of a support system). And with a lot of kids who survive that kind of controlling, emotionally abusive parenting - that's normal. I guess I could simply sum it up as: You can take Hana out of Lorelai's home, but it won't be that easy to take Lorelai out of Hana.

I'll come back to this later, because there's some things I'd love to expand on with regards to this.

- Which Olivia opening up is promised if she is around, she doesn't really do that. Most of the stuff she says in this scene is pretty much standard for what she's shown so far. But I'm alright with that, because let's be honest the times when Hana is given even a scrap of space over Olivia, are rare. The writers will be only too happy to give her other opportunities.

- At the end of the scene, you get to address what Hana said earlier, while you are cleaning up the cellar. You either tell her you'd love to see an imperfect Hana (which is the lighter option, where they think of crazy things she can mess up, like burning toast, putting cutlery in reverse order, or playing every note on the piano wrong. Silly stuff. I know it's meant to be a joke...and maybe that's the root to why she doesn't get to actually be imperfect and affected and stuff. Because even in a scene about imperfections, it still feels like the writers won't take her actual conflicts and issues very seriously, and will not leave her the space to actually be a mess about things that would weigh down anyone).

The second option is more serious, and I really like it. The MC speaks about finding it harder to forgive Lorelai for everything Hana has gone through. Hana is still uncomfortable with the idea of resenting her mother, even though she's at the stage where she knows how wrong Lorelai is. She reasons it by speaking about how everything good came from Lorelai the same way everything bad came from the same mother. I'll be getting back to this bit soon as well.

- There is a tiny romantic scene following this if you're married to Hana, mostly kissing.

• Now that our work in Auvernal is over, it's time to get back to the ranch. BECAUSE MAXWELL BEAUMONT IS STRESS-DANCING AND THAT IS NEVER A GOOD SIGN.

(Screenshots: Drake's from BizzysChoices YouTube channel, Maxwell's from @itsbrindleybinch and Hana's from Abhirio YouTube channel)

- Alright so in Liam and Drake's playthroughs they talk to the MC directly. Maxwell's too, and he is panicking and speaking in capslock. In Hana's, Maxwell is still the one the MC is talking to, since he is the one in charge of this one thing.

- I love how Drake thinks Maxwell "stress dancing" means things must be better now but Liam knows it's a bad sign 😅

- BBBB. Maxwell could've just simplified things for himself and called it B-Quadrupled or B^4 or something. Be like Karan Johar, who saw three Ks and one G in his film title (Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham)...and said "yeah. Let's call this K3G".

• So now I'm guessing the aim for the next chapter is to keep it a secret until the time Bertrand is expected to be at his party. Or something. Idk.

• We're going...from deep conversations and political maneuverings...to this. Okay. Okay 😐

• General Thoughts:

- Okay...so the thing Hana says about perfection and wanting to please her mother. Phew. That dialogue hit me. Pretty hard.

(Please don't take anything I say right here as hard scientific fact, I am merely saying this as a client to a therapist who learned something from her, and am applying something I've learned into this sequence solely because it speaks to me on a personal level)

I've been going to a new therapist this year. A very accomplished hypnotherapist, fantastic in her field. We've been doing a mixture of talk therapy and hypnotherapy because I have a LOT of issues and they're all tangled together and it's all a big mess at this point.

One of the things we talked about was how centered my entire concept of "worth" was around smartness. Intelligence. Intelligence the way my parents perceived it, the way I saw it in school. At some point I said something...something related to smartness and worth and how you couldn't be anything if you weren't smart idk...and she stopped. Stopped and said, "that sounds like a parent tape" (wish I remembered what my exact words were).

Now, this conversation happened around a month ago, and I'm no professional in this field, so I'm paraphrasing what she explained, but she did talk about how some things get embedded in your subconscious as "tapes" or "files", and how at some points they become essential beliefs. It could be a simple moment that was nonetheless important to the child, that crystallized into a life truth for them, even into adulthood. And that would go for things that you picked up or learned from your parents as well. Learned behaviours and mindsets...that you grow up to believe as fact - and to remove yourself from them would be to remove yourself from everything you have ever believed to be true. It would be a destruction of a belief system, and building yourself back from out of that rubble would be scary.

- I wound up seeing Hana's inability to turn off "Perfect Hana" through that lens. I feel like she grew up with that "parent tape": I must be perfect to be considered worthy. I must be perfect to be loved. The only way I can gain my mother's love is by being her perfect daughter. And part of why she can't switch it off is because it became an entire belief system, the foundation on which her parents build this personality she has. If that is destroyed, the Parent Tape must be saying, then what will be left of her?

- This may explain why she continues to explain, justify, make excuses for Lorelai. Lorelai is a HUGE part of her life. Was a HUGE influence on who she was and what she became. Even when she is going in a direction completely opposite to what Lorelai initially intended, Hana does it by overcompensating, by stressing over whether she is being controlling merely for planning the perfect wedding, by worrying about what kind of parent she will be to her own child. While she acknowledges freely that her mother was wrong and pushes back when she is able to, she is not really at the stage where she can fully accept the sheer levels of damage Lorelai (and by enabling and encouraging this type of parenting, Xinghai) has wrecked on her self.

- In a lot of ways, Hana is still that child. The one who craved her mother's love. The one who grew up constantly questioning her own worth. And learning to validate that child and give her a peaceful ending is going to be a long, arduous, painful process.

- You can bet I have been thinking about this more than Hana's own writers have. By now I just know it.

- There was a part of me that CHEERED when I saw the MC (finally!) stand up for Hana. There's a part of me that...honestly...just shrugged and said "too little too late".

- I'm tired at this point. Really, really sick and tired of how people in the books are allowed to underestimate Hana and talk shit about her, and how little space the narrative gives to letting her either push back against that, or to allowing us to stand up for her. This chapter is one of the rare times that happened without the focus being on how wonderful the MC is. And I mean very rare.

- Married to Hana or not, the MC is the woman who let Madeleine get away with her bullying. Who didn't bother to look out for Hana, and continuously used her. Who didn't bother to find out how Hana was in NY after Hana had fought with her own father and left his house for her. Who (optionally) allowed Olivia to get away with talking shit about her, and who didn't ask Hana if she was comfortable before including her in a conversation with her bully. Who (optionally) can cry about not getting pregnant soon enough (today of course, that role was filled up by Isabella)

- Also isn't it ironic how Isabella, the same woman who speaks about not being perfect and allowing yourself the space to let out your emotions...is the same woman who chooses to talk ONLY about Hana's failures? Who sounds A LOT like Hana's own mother? So while those words about imperfection are true, the person speaking them is a truckload of trash.

- When it comes to a foreigner insulting Hana, then somehow it becomes magically appropriate for the MC and Olivia to pretend to be offended. But at home? In their own court? Hana rarely gets that kind of support. And she rarely gets the chance to push back either. An Olivia can call her a failure and claim "Hana hasn't so much as touched the ladder while I'm at the very top", and all Hana is allowed to do is glower in fury and then it's conveniently forgotten. By the MC.

Like sure it's nice that the MC gets to treat Hana with respect this time around, and pay her some attention. But where was this protectiveness when Hana needed it the most?

I'd have liked a moment like this earlier, or if the narrative actually was fair in terms of their treatment of Hana. But her issues, her feelings, her pain, has always been on the backseat. I'm not going to be grateful for scraps like these.

- That's the other thing. This chapter...feels a little last-minute. Not only is the gown in this chapter a very, very recent one (an anon pointed out it was added only a week or two ago), the chapter itself is all over the place. Isabella claims to want to show the group that there is more to Auvernal than Bradshaw's blustering...but in essence what she's showing us is pretty much the same thing. She is still issuing us veiled threats, and strong-arming us into becoming allies. Her tactics are still scare tactics and they are not as subtle as she or the writers believe they are.

- Even in this chapter where another person is allowed to feel pain over her years of not conceiving, Hana is hardly given space. Think about that for a second.

To me...if this chapter was a recent addition - that means the only chapter where Hana actually gets a tiny amount of space to herself...is a last minute choice. And that's not a good thing. In fact it reminds me of Book 2, where Hana was given an AWFUL scene in Chapter 8 (the fashion show scene, which focused more on Penelope than on Hana) and no appearances in the chapter after, and then given two good scenes (patisserie scene and library scene). Those two good scenes...came before they virtually ignored Hana and her background to focus on literally anyone else (after which Hana was not even seen in NY). Just because Hana gets a decent scene (a scene that isn't even hers, actually, a lot of it is about Isabella) once in 9 (NINE) chapters, doesn't mean that she's going to get good development from now on. For all you know this could be a carrot conveniently dangled to keep people satisfied for another 5-6 chapters of the same ol' focus on the male LIs instead.

- Wonder what Olivia is upto and what Liam might know.

- Also wonder why we didn't get a lot of info on Eleanor in her own home.

- Also for a country that is the maternal home of Cordonia's king, there's precious little shown about their interactions with him. In fact there's very little space Liam gets to actually operate as a King - either in this series or the previous one.

- This week, I will not be doing my usual QT for Book 1. There's an essay I've been itching to do, about Kiara and Penelope, and I'm going to devote my weekend to diving into that! Would anyone like to be tagged??

- Anyway! Until the next chapter, guys.

[izzy-b-hands]

20-30!

Thank you so much for asking!!!!

20. Favorite character to write?

Already answered, but I don’t mind re-answering cuz I thought maybe I’d narrow my three way tie, but alas, no lol. Still a tie between Ahkmenrah, Snafu, and Skwisgaar.

21. Least favorite character to write? 

Ooh-tbh, Larry from NATM just because I feel like I always make him an asshole? Like, I haven’t published all my fic ideas for NATM because I keep making him really mean? And in some it works but in others I’m like ‘jesus chill Lee he’s just a Dude trying his best’ but also at the same time I feel the way Stiller played him and his character arc means he’s got some major ego to him as the films go on? Idk that isn’t a hot take or anything just me being frustrated with Ben Stiller lol

22. Favorite story you’ve ever written? 

Hard choice, because I love all my kids, but I cried after writing this one lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

It hit some personal stuff for me, so to be able to have it work organically in a fic so I could also like, mini therapy session myself? Cool af. Also, ppl seemed to like this a lot too, and while that validation isn’t the only reason I write, it’s always cool when my writing makes ppl happy. 

23. Least favorite story you’ve ever written? 

I don’t really have a least favorite, but I do have some I’m more frustrated with, due to how long they took me to write, etc. Currently? The answer to this is my Mark the Date series because A. it is taking me a day and an age to finish it and B. I feel like it kinda flopped, so it’s hard to pull up any energy to finish it, but like...I may as well now lol. I’ll get it done eventually.

24. Favorite scene you’ve written? 

Oh god tbh I have too many I love just cuz like

I can go back to how I felt writing them and yeah

But as of most recent fics, I really this bit: 

-Snafu patted the blanket near his head, and waited for Eugene to put out his pipe and lay back beside him before snuggling close to him. “You could be right. Could be God. Could just be love.” “How’s that?” “I think love has its own way. Even before you meet someone, even before you know you’re fallin’ for ‘em. Love’s just…out there, like the air or somethin’. Finds you when the time is right, and finds who you click with. You gotta do the rest, the stayin’ in love part, but that bringing together, that first spark…that’s love just existing, and doin’ what it needs to so the world keeps spinnin’, so people make it through tough shit,” Snafu replied. “I like that,” Eugene said. “Think love did a good job with us. Makin’ sure we found each other.” Snafu pressed a kiss softly to the corner of Eugene’s mouth. “Sure did. Wouldn’t ever want to be with anyone else. I don’t even know what that looks like, and I don’t want to.” “Same here,” Eugene’s mouth was warm as he kissed him back. “Here’s to love for making sure you found me.” -

from this fic: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186926226531/absolution-is-the-taste-of-your-lips

Because I’m sappy af more than I let on, and also this was a chance to like, write out my own feelings via Snafu. And that was a pretty cool and fulfilling thing for me, ya know? 

25. Favorite line you’ve ever written? 

oh god this is another hard one to narrow down but

I always come back to this line and go ‘oh shit did I really write that. Nah, someone better than me at this had to have. They briefly possessed me or something”:  

-Music and talking and shouting and footsteps collide kaleidoscopic in his ears, but none bearing the one sound that he’d run to if he heard it.-

from this fic, mentioned twice now in this post lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

I really love alliteration, and for me this line just sums up how it feels to walk thru a city when you aren’t just wandering really, but are looking or waiting for someone, and have that awful yet sometimes good feeling of expecting to hear or see them but it feels like you’re waiting or searching forever and in the meantime the city just lives on around you, a stopped platelet stuck in a vein full of vitality. Like, idk if it hit any of my readers that way, but that’s what I was trying to get across lol, so the line always hits me hard in a good way when I scroll thru my writing tag and see it. 

26. Story you’re most proud of? 

Gosh

I gotta choose just one kid for this aldsfkja I’m bad at choosing I love my gaggle of ragtag goofballs. I have an original piece I’d choose for this, but I’ve never posted it on here, so I’m gonna choose out of my fanfic on here instead.

One I am really proud of is this one: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

and I know it’s the third time it’s been part of an answer on here but

I really love this one idk. Thinking back to how I felt while writing it, how it all flowed in a certain way. The whole experience was just something else, and I’m proud of this one in a certain way I find myself, funnily enough, unable to describe. 

27. Best review you ever got? 

Okay this sounds cheesy but like

I really do love and appreciate every review or review-like thing I’ve ever gotten so I can’t choose just one for this

Like, y’all gotta understand, I’ve deleted some of it and erased traces of it from my blog, but I’ve written for years on here, I have some stuff on my ao3, and for the longest time I got nothing back, or very nearly nothing. Maybe a few likes, but no comments and not much else. I always just rolled with it and assumed I just wasn’t writing anything good enough to inspire reviews. Idk if that’s true or not, but in any case it means I cherish every comment, like, reblog, and anything review-like in nature because I’m so grateful to have it now, and I know it could well be pure luck that I stumbled up on a really supportive bunch of fandoms with great readers. 

In other words, thank y’all for every kind word and like and reblog and also I may be an immortal feeding off of validation of my art, but we’ll see on that last bit, because I haven’t tested it. 

28. Worst review you ever got?

One from middle school. I’d just finished my very first novel, gave it to a friend to read, and he said it ‘smacked of being too fanciful and childish, something only kids and women would read’ (it was a YA fantasy novel so I mean... what exactly he expected, idk cuz he knew what it was before I gave it to him, like it’s supposed to have those elements as a lot of these sorts of novels/stories do, and that isn’t a bad thing about them at all, so like...what his damage was idek.)

Also this is the same dude who texts me randomly and is really weird abt his friendship with me and happens to be an English teacher now (RIP to his students.) 

Anyway, after he said that I tossed a review right back, because well, middle school and also I was very upset with him because I’d not asked for anything other than a general ‘if you picked this up randomly and started it, would it suck you in enough to keep reading or would you put it down’ like that was literally all I needed him to answer for me. So I told him his latest novel (his second at that point) was essentially just him masturbating to his own opinions (because he’s an arguer, who loves to tell ppl they’re always wrong, and that’s by his own admission) for one hundred pages, and not in a way that anyone else would care to read. He was pissed, but so was I. We didn’t talk for a good week, and we had almost all our classes together lol. 

Like, getting nothing back in review sucks too, but this one has stuck with me forever. Best part? I mentioned it to him a few years back, and he only vaguely remembered it, and followed it with “but I’ve said a lot of rough stuff about your work. I mean, it deserved it at the time, but you might be good at this someday!” 

I didn’t smack him, but I really, really wanted to. 

29. Favorite story/poem of another author

This doesn’t specify on Tumblr or not, so I’ve got two: one from outside tumblr, and one from on here.

A. When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be by John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,And think that I may never live to trace   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,   That I shall never look upon thee more,Never have relish in the faery power   Of unreflecting love—then on the shoreOf the wide world I stand alone, and thinkTill love and fame to nothingness do sink.

B. Again, this Tumblr one could be a huge ass list because y’all on here are amazing, but one I’ve been rereading over and over again recently is @xmxisxforxmaybe ‘s Remnants series, which can be found here: https://xmxisxforxmaybe.tumblr.com/post/186702235396/remnants-complete-work

Like, Ahk as a character is captured so well, and I love the way the plot twines and also when the smut comes up? Very good A+ smut, something I value pretty highly on and off Tumblr because man, sometimes smut is just work to write, so I appreciate it when it’s really good. All around, this series has captured my heart and I legit have a link to it saved on multiple devices so if I need something to read, I can just pull it up right away. 

30. Hardest part of writing? 

Self-doubt. It’s the biggest hurdle for any artist, regardless of the art in question I think, but with writing it seems to double down a lot. Like, you have to really get out of your own head, even as you spend all your time there with your writing ideas. Shit gets weird and twisted, man. 

For the longest time, I really let self-doubt defeat me too, and I regret the time I lost to that. I still get hit with it randomly, cause I don’t think it every really goes away for any writer, not even the big names like Stephen King or Neil Gaiman (who I’m half tempted to @ on here purely because I wanna know his feelings on this stuff because I respect and admire him as an artist and his thoughts very much, but also he’s a very busy man so I’m not gonna bug him by doing that lol.) 

All there is to do is to work with it, push past it, and most importantly keep writing. I have days where that feels like the hardest thing, but each day I manage to get past it and get the words down? I let myself feel proud of that, and mark it as an achievement in my Big Book of Stuff I’ve Done in This Life.