#i don't know if i want this in the tag but i'm also like. no someone please talk to me about this game. goddamn. so at least

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang i need 119 with yuuta so bad i think my world will collapse if i dont get it

✮  119 + yuuta okkotsu | “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

✮ tags ; fem!reader (no gendered language. reader is wearing a skirt + blouse and has boobs), femdom, dirty talk, boss yuuta x subordinate reader, some alcohol, premature ejaculation yippeee.

✮ a/n ; don't even rmb what prompt list this is from but here. do not know if this is what u mean anon but this is what i got for u.

Yuuta is not very subtle when leers at you.

You try not to make him anymore self-conscious than need be. He's your superior for one, and for the most part - he's mature, empathetic, and calm. You're fond of him both in general but also as your boss and appeciate his competency when the rest of your team is making your head spin. You'd hate for anyone else to take his place.

He's got a knack for keeping things in order when they're about ready to fall apart.

And he's nice - well loved by women in the office for being handsome and kind and hated by men for being popular with them.

You don't know when it is, exactly, that he starts looking at you in that way. You only know that you don't especially mind.

Yuuta has little tells when he's staring at you during work.

The soft jut of his lips, the mild nerves of his smile, the way his eyes don't stay in the same place when you talk or wear something with the slightest bit of skin. It's weird. Before you noticed this about Yuuta, you never saw him in any sort of way.

He's a nice guy and he's a good boss, but you're not one to crush easily. You like Yuuta as is, and have never considered complicating that on the whims of things like attraction or a passing thought. You don't particularly need to get laid nor are you starving for that sort of attention.

Before you notice, you never have anything but work appropriate thoughts. But after you notice, you think that you really, really want to bully him about it.

When the opportunity presents itself to do that, you do - even though it is a bad idea.

Your boss is pretty cute when he's tipsy. He's also, maybe predictably, easy. It didn't take any amount of pushing to get him to bring you home. One pouty word of concern about going home so late and a little pushing up against his arm and he practically collapses under the pressure. The fact he let you cling to his arm and rub up on him the entire car ride makes you think he's probably letting you do this for one reason or another.

So, it's easy to convince him to take you home. Just like it's easy to convince him to take you inside, to help you on the couch, to get you water, to stay a while or maybe stay the night since the last train is about to go anyway.

This is how you get Yuuta on your couch with his pants unzipped.

"Yuuta-san," Your voice is sing-songy. Normally, you're a touch more careful with this kind of thing but you're not sober enough to bother with it as you slide up next to him. He's flushed pink, wide-eyed. "You look nervous."

"W-we shouldn't," He swallows and looks over at you where you're pressed against his side. Your blouse is unbuttoned, nothing but your pencil "I shouldn't've—"

"Oh, don't be like that. You've been giving me looks for a while now, right? Did you think I didn't notice?"

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. How cute. "I'm very sorry."

"It's okay," You nuzzle up to him softly and he does not bother pushing you away even slightly. "I'm saying I don't mind it. But a little won't hurt right?"

He's stiff as you scoot in as close to him as you can, reaching you over to the front of his slacks. His hard-on, half-mast, betrays his sense of hesitance. You watch as he drops his head back, palm cupping the hard outline with amusement. You lean, lips close to his ear.

"Can't go home like this, Yuuta-san. I'll help you if you say please, okay?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before shutting them. "Please..."

You grin a little. "Good boy."

He lets out a pathetic little whimper that makes the corners of your mouth twitch. Wordlessly, undo the zipper of his slacks - reaching your hand into his waist band and sliding it over his cock. It's hard now, twitching under your touch. Yuuta is sensitive. You're sticking so close to his side you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way he's holding it all in.

You pull his length out slowly, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his shaft. His cock is long and pretty. The tip of it is already drooling like you've been touching him for hours, ruddy with need. You stroke him in your hands, feeling for all the veins under his shaft. Holding it and seeing the length and weight. You crass him like that slowly, cupping his balls lightly before jerking him off again.

All of the touch leaves Yuuta gasping. He tries his best not to make any noise, but his voice comes out in a whine anyway. Usually such a gentle, kind of voice - broken and throaty as his dick twitches and leaks helplessly in your hand.

"Yuuta-san, be honest." You hum curiously. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

He makes shameful face, closing his eyes even tighter. "Yes. I'm sorry,"

"Oh, you said it so easily," You reply, amused. "Pervert."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry - I won't do it again,"

"Instead of touching yourself, isn't this better? Don't you think my pussy will feel good around your cock, Yuuta-san? You can peep as much as you like but that means this is mine for the time being, okay?"

You're barely stroking him hard when you feel him twitch suddenly. Glancing down, you watch as balls tighten - expose stomach flexing it's muscles as Yuuta lets out a loud choked moan. You feel him in your palms - hard, hot cock trembling before it shoots out a thick load of cum into your fingers.

Your eyes widen in mild surprised as you watch him squirm, chasing the high with his hips - aimlessly fucking into the little hole made by your hand. He can't stop cumming. It's drenching your fingers, making them sticky as you stroke him through it.

He finishes with his chest heaving, still cumming in little spurts. You can't help but giggle at how whiny he is.

"Didn't think you were such a quick shot, Yuuta-san." Before he can respond, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the cum off. "Not bad."

He stares at you jaw dropped, looking so embarrassed he could die. You think he looks a little cute like that.

"Oh, it's already up again," You smile, watching him go half hard so quickly. His blush deepens. "Since you were honest, guess I should let you fuck me forreal."

He looks at you with wide, wet eyes and pouty lips. Yes, you know the look well by now.

He takes a deep breath and stares at you longingly.

"...Please."

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

[miukki960]

I'm gonna make this post before I go in the tag and see ANY God or Diew slander, because for me the conflict this episode not only made sense, but was necessary for their relationship to move forward.

The seed was planted long ago when God first found the picture of Diew and Dr. Asshole, and at first God handled it rationally (as expected of our Green Flag King). But the longer the situation went unresolved, the more doubt and insecurity began to creep in until it all came to a head in this episode, because all God needed was honesty and openness from Diew, but Diew has learned from past conditioning to lock those parts of himself away and only show a surface level of his personality and self.

I found that God's argument with Diew, while definitely escalated by emotion and insecurity, was justified at its core. We've learned throughout this story that God's main love language is Quality Time, and that most often is fulfilled by God genuinely enjoying doing anything and everything with the people he loves, so long as they are having a good time. But his conversation with Dr. Asshole put the idea in his mind that Diew has simply been going with the flow and doing whatever God suggested in order to make him feel good, that he hasn't actually enjoyed their time together. And while we as an audience know that's false, the idea is one of God's worst fears and most devastating nightmares.

But he loves Diew and doesn't want to believe it's true, so he gives him multiple chances to prove him wrong. And when Diew continues to reply with lies and deflection, it unfortunately proves him right. Because while the context is a bit off and there is definitely a misunderstanding at play, at the end of the day Diew isn't being honest and isn't trusting God enough to open up and show him the deeper, more emotional parts of himself. So God comes to the only conclusion he can see, that even if Diew is no longer in love with Dr. Asshole, their love was deeper and more meaningful than what he has with God now.

But don't get me wrong! Even though Diew was choosing the wrong dialog options during his argument with God, he was also justified in choosing to keep his secrets and emotions hidden. What God doesn't know is that Diew HAS opened up before, bared his heart and soul to someone he thought he loved and trusted, and what was he rewarded with? Disinterest, deflection, shame. As someone with major anxieties related to human interaction, you only have to burn him once to teach him to never play with fire again. And Dr. Asshole burned him deeply on multiple occasions.

No amount of kindness and sweetness and love from God was gonna convince him to play with fire again. In fact, it was reaffirming. Much like what we have been seeing with Wan towards Beer, I'm sure Diew sees how good and wonderful God is and is absolutely terrified to fuck it up. But just like Wan, his defense became his biggest downfall.

At the end of the day, rather than focusing on what happened, we should instead focus on why it happened and how the characters are going to grow from it. And we can see that how through the characters actions during the last few minutes of the episode. We see Diew, who's defense is to isolate, actively reaching out to God multiple times in multiple ways, ready to explain and open up and heal. And we see God going through the more nasty, volatile parts of his emotions alone, so he doesn't hurt Diew while he's in the wrong headspace, but also doesn't bottle the bad things to explode later.

I think what gets me the most is that in their very last conversation before the end of the episode, Diew was asking for togetherness and God was asking for space, and they were both upset on many levels, but they were still speaking to each other with love in their tone and words.

[somewhereincairparavel]

HOO if they were in a band/orchestra - boys edition pt 1 (Percy, Jason and Leo)

Percy Jackson- Guitarist

i honestly don't know if I'm being cliche or something, but percy seems like someone who just picks up the guitar and strums it a little before leaving. Like the guitar is a light hearted instrument that you can self learn fairly well, we all know percy HATES tutors of any kind (unless it's annabeth) and would probably like figuring things out himself, so he'd just strum it until he somehow got the tunes he'd want and would probably look up YouTube tutorials lmfao. I feel like sally would like listening to the beatles, and percy would listen along aswell and get inspired to play and perform like that for his mom one day?? A green flag mama's boy till the very end lol. He would eventually start to play guitar of most kinds (bass, electric, acoustic) he'd start with an acoustic first, because it's less intimidating but he'd grow to LOVE electric tbh. So he'd definitely be the sub guitarist of the band. I think his favourite genre would be jazz or rock.

Jason Grace- Violinist

Okay the violin is literally HIS kind of instrument. I feel like he'd really enjoy listening to classical music like vivaldi- the seasons, Mozart's violin Concerto No.5 in A Major, Dmitri Shostakovich's waltz no. 2, etc. especially because if we hc camp jupiter as having something even remotely fun like camp orchestra (camp half blood can be the band bc we KNOW camp jupiter is too uptight and proper for having rock, metal or jazz bands freely, they seem more of the orchestra type) then I KNOW jason would be the lead Violinist tbh. He probably picked that up as a toddler and ended up loving it, it helps him ease into his stress from harsh practice. Also, if he does join a band in camp half blood at the same time, he'd be a lead vocalist tbh. I feel like NOBODY expected jason to be a good singer because people are used to his 'rough' and gruff voice, but it's actually really sweet and melodious, he just roughens it up for his duty as a war leader. He'd have a silky melancholic edge to his voice that's super unique and perfect for singing heartbreaking ballads, also since he's a latin speaker, I feel like his pronunciation of certain words would be very eloquent and he'd have a slight accent that everyone is really intrigued by.

Leo Valdez- drummer

ahh okay so we know how much leo loves tapping and fidgeting right? I feel like drums would be his DREAM instrument because they relieve his stress and nervousness. He'd just tap his drums in his free time. I feel like piper would be the one who would tell him to audition as the drummer in the band, seeing how well he actually drums. He'd genuinely enjoy the drumming. OH OH OH he'd love to use the crash cymbal on his drums (yknow like the steel plate looking things) in the end of each performance for the IT factor of the performance ahh he'd smile the whole time looking so badass. I feel like his position as the drummer would give him immense confidence because everyone compliments him sm.

tagging people who asked me to :) @lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz---lol @boldofyoutoassumeicanspell @themythecho

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.75)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Getting you home and into the nest proves to be a bit more of a challenge.

Tags: forced caretaking, feral omega's, m/c acts a little violent at the beginning, biting, blood, brief injury, kinda inspection kink if you squint, pre-heat, nudity, cramps, scenting, nesting, mindless fluff, hurt/comfort, omega/omega, possessive behavior, omegaspace, yoongi has slight self-esteem issues, manhandling,

W/c: 8.6k+

A/n: i feel guilty because i had to snip this chapter in half because there was simply too much stuff going on in my life at the moment. on the bright side i will try to get the second part out in one week, and i will also be very drunk at a engagement party when this is posted <3 gotta love that for me. in all honesty although it says 5pm...it will probably be posted a little earlier in the day so...be aware!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

"I don't think her fingers are broken, fuck- do you think Jin would let me take her to the hospital?"

"You just got home Joonie-" Tae whines while Jimin shakes his head, handing over the gauze for Namjoon to wrap it.

"I know but-"

Instead of wiggling your fingers, you flick water in Namjoon's direction. It hits his face with an audible plop. The pack alpha flinches.

The rest of them just stare at you.

Namjoon wipes the water off of his face, slow and intentionally with every movement of his body. No one breathes and no one moves. You sense Namjoon's composure is about to slip. Good- you really want it too.

"See! Pups fine!” You flick water at Namjoon again. Grinning, dopy and so high on heat hormones that you think it is funny how his jaw rolls. Your hand isn't broken even if your knuckles are a little scraped up. Really- you'll be fine. They don't need to act like you're dying.

You try to do it again but Jimin grabs both of your wrists, holding you still. "That is the opposite of helpful." Tae snaps.

"Don't yell at me. I'm too tiny." You say, your voice that. Small.

Namjoon whips his hands on a kitchen cloth slowly. Staring you down without saying anything.

Yoongi runs his teeth over the back of your throat, hard enough that you feel it. He's not sure why you need the release of violence before your heat begins, but you do. Whatever instinct is currently making you act like a brat needs to come out one way or another.

Yoongi would rather it be now than when you're actually in heat.

Jimin and Yoongi keep you in one place as you try to lunge for Namjoon. You barely even jerk in their firm hold. Strong as they are. every one of them has more than half a foot on you, you'd never stand a chance really. Jimin holds you effortlessly- without even breaking a sweat. muscles and veins in his arms hardly flexing.

You want to bite him, teeth and gums aching for it. To feel the give of your alpha's under your teeth, under your claws. To bite and nip and see what he's made of.

It's like Namjoon can see the ache rocking through you, the violence of it in the honey tremble of your body. He cups your face so tenderly, and you almost want to hiss at him. Lip lifting in a soundless snarl. His voice is a gentle hush, a tone you are intimately familiar with.

it's the same tone of voice that has preceded every punishment and scolding you've ever received from the pack alpha. Every time he's ever coaxed you to take his knot (icky) or an orgasm (less icky). As he drags you close and speaks to you. Soft but firm. Gentle but unyielding.

"You are allowed to be needy, you are allowed to be small. You are allowed to need everything and anything and I will personally make sure that each one of those needs are fulfilled."

You snap your teeth at him, trying to bite his hand. He only just gets away. Your teeth brushing his knuckles playfully. You giggle, behind you, Yoongi snorts.

Instantly the pack hold your face, your jaw, not jimin but your mate and tae. Holding your mouth open. Fingers digging into your lower lip. Making your lips push out. You push at them but they hold you still. saliva pooling around a whine as you try to gnash your teeth again but are unsuccessful.

"Cute drooly puppy, so messy. what are we to do with you?" Tae's voice is a lethal purr.

You like it. You like feeling your alpha's strength, your mate's strength. Where they begin and you end. You want to test it want to make sure they can protect you.

For what? You can't say. You think it might have something to do with the terrible sensitivity between your thighs, the bleeding hot need slowly gripping you, a distant storm rumbling. But you're not sure.

"You need to make sure we're capable of protecting you through your heat? is that it pup?"

You whine, needy around Namjoon's fingers.

Tae keeps your mouth open and Namjoon taps his finger against your tongue, your lips, your teeth. Does he like how sharp they are? They feel awfully sharp in your mouth. Good omega, see? You want to tell him. Strong like you. Not a pup.

You don't whine and recoil the way an alpha would at being poked and prodded at. You fight one moment then go pliant the next. Letting him look, letting him touch and pinch your tongue between his fingers, loling it out and making it cute. Tears building at the corner of your eyes by how frustrated you feel, how much you want.

Tae grips your jaw, turning you this way and that, jimin's claws tangle with yours. yoongi digs his teeth into your scent gland, going sweeter and sweeter and sweeter with every moment.

Tae coo's and you hiss at her- or try too. Namjoon's finger pressing against your tongue stops you from doing anything but whine. Saliva pooling to the point where it almost drips, a little gross, but Namjoon's smile is darker, wickeder.

Namjoon strokes your tongue once, twice, and then a third time. Near your gag reflex but just barely. If you want to act like a disobedient pup, he's going to make you work for it.

You are the lowest ranking packmate, you can't expect your anger to be anything remarkable. they all coo at you- at your innocent imitation of your alpha's behavior.

Jimin smiles. agreeing, flashing his teeth at you that actually are sharp- actually could bite. you like them, like him. jimin holds you so well- so firmly you feel it in the small bones of your wrists. any other time you'd say it was uncomfortable, but it makes you leak slick, just a little. you know they can smell it.

"Cute little omega, acting like an alpha." Namjoon's thigh is between your legs, and you try and grind down on it. He stops you, holding your hips firm. You can't move more than a millimeter without one of them stopping you.

"No, none of that pup. If you want it you'll ask nicely, and you'll ask Jinnie first. I know you can be good."

But you don't want to be good, you want to fight.

~-~

Coming Saturday September 28th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments below)

[ghouldtime]

you’re the most correct and sane könig writer and I thank you so much. you characterise him so fluidly and it makes it so so good to read what you write about him. I’m praying to any and every god that paranormal investigators AU wins so we can get fucked up cryptid könig

AHHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH 💚💚💚💚💚 I'm glad you like how I write him!

I'm aware how I write him isn't like most of the fandom but I just try to give him somewhat solid justice and keep in-character of how I see him/what we do know. I'm just never going to get behind the realllly really awful things that I hear/see most times for him. Like you do you if that's what you want to write, but I'm also going to ignore all content like that because a lot of it is just. Gross. I can't even LOOK in the tag anymore (Genuinely convinced people just are projecting their own horny desires onto him regardless of how he is which is why there's so many really nasty interpretations that just don't fit him??? Also idk who is the person who started the 6'10" rumor but genuinely I'm coming for you it's so dumb and makes 0 sense. He's tall, not THAT tall, I don't think everyone realizes how tall that is and how many issues that causes.) Can you tell I'm easily distracted IRREGARDLESS of what wins, I will happily do fucked up cryptid König. Just a matter of time

And deciding on the creature. Any suggestions are absolutely welcome, throw it at me? I'll write it.

[Minus the cannibalistic W one which I will not fully name out of respect and a similarly popular one starting with S, ending in -alker , that also belongs to Native cultures which I have 0 right to use and would feel like shit doing so. They've been really bastardized by popular culture into being a gimmicky thing instead of treating with proper seriousness and intent when it comes to the topic of them, watered down, and I'm NEVER ever ever going to write using those because it's not in my right to do so]

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

So apparently I haven't been active on Tumblr for a year, which just goes to show how fast time can go when things are crazy ahaha, sorry?

I just went through my whole dash back a whole year (I am OCD, it had to be done or I'd explode, and don't ask how long it took, the answer is too long. Positive note though, Tumblr does let you go back that far, it just freezes every 5 seconds and makes your browser weep).

Anyway, all this to say I am going to be responding to asks for the next little bit, but I don't want to like, bombard people with asks so I'm going to space them out in the queue along with art and whatnot. Anyone who doesn't want to see responses to asks can blacklist "Blood's yakkity yaks."

Also because I loaded my queue up back a year, I might have accidentally crossed wires on some things that belong on my other blogs, so if I messed up and put non TW stuff on here that's not tagged "Not TW," it means it was an accident and feel free to let me know. (Also please tell me if I reblogged AI art, I noticed a few while going through my dash but some might have slipped through the cracks given how many things I was staring at the whole time I did this).

Moral of the story: If you have OCD and have to go back to the last thing you saw on your dash, do not ignore your dash for a year because you will suffer.

- Blood

[cadaveerie]

Dragon Age on Threads (also tumblr): "New phone wallpapers for the Rook that wants to take their companions on the go! 💜"

They posted the DATV companions' art for wallpaper purposes! I'm mostly reposting to add more tags.

Are these better quality than the ones we had before? It feels like it...

quick edit: btw, i wasn't sure, but these are *not* the full images. these are cut versions to fit as wallpapers. also, if you were wondering: these are the newer versions, yes (if you don't know what i'm talking about)

[beevean]

If I’m being honest, you are all getting way too hung up on fake diseases and attacking a writer as if he personally attacked your family. It’s a strange obsession you have and you guys always come at any small nitpick as if it’s the end of the world. It’s a weird obsession and you have all been doing it for years. Maybe you liked Sunset Heights getting a remix but you also play victim when people don’t like the 2010s games. You can see Sonic is more successful now and doing things much better but you just like to sit in your anger towards the series for years. I’ll add that you’re much more sane in your reactions than RandomtheFox, but this whole side of the fandom here is so pathetic. The endless loop of anything new coming out for Sonic, and your little posse hating on it because it isn’t the meta era or because Ian Flynn has his name on it makes me glad you guys are a small minority in the fandom.

Do you want to know why we're discussing this?

If you go back and read our discussions, see how much we brought up with this little detail!

I looked up the effects of low gravity on the human body: I learned something new about science. I tried to put into words why this detail is harder to accept than Sonic breathing in space: this is about stories and world building. I immediately found a replacement idea. We discussed about SA2, its gameplay mechanics, its cutscenes. Someone even brought up the idea of drawing parallels with AIDS and how it would affect Maria. Negativity can stem from a place of reasoning, "how would I do that?", and it makes me use my brain in a fun way. I'm aware it's a inconsequential detail, but I'm having fun!

As for the rest of the message, yeah, we are a minority. Which makes me wonder why you care so much about a group of, what, four people?

Why don't I get any engagement when I'm positive, but suddenly people are up my ass when I talk about something negative? I didn't even tag most of my posts. Bro half of the Sonic fandom blocked me already because I'm a dirty sinning IDW non-enjoyer. I am not bothering anyone.

By the way, my negativity about IDW once even resulted in me writing a fic about it. Again, creativity and genuine discussions about writing a story and its downfalls. It nourishes the brain.

I don't like this new direction for Sonic. There, happy? I don't feel catered to, as a 2000s fan, by all this "REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE COOL????" stuff, not to mention I'm just not a Shadow fan so seeing him with wings and shit does nothing for me. I am annoyed because this used to be a franchise dear to me, but the current environment, both games and fandom, alienates me. I am also aware that, precisely because I'm in the minority, I'll just have to wait until ST changes trend again.

If my writer side activates when I talk about a writing decision I don't like and I'm having fun dissecting it, let me, alright? You can find me cringe, if you want to, but I'm not doing anything different than other fans, just directed towards a less acceptable target and in the privacy of my blocked blog.

Also: to be perfectly honest, if it only takes me one day of mild bitching to get anons yelling at me that I'm a joyless bastard doomed to be sad because I refuse to be happy, it kind of makes me want to be saltier out of spite. I'm already a bad person, might as well, right?

[fleshengine]

What happened to your friend does sound awful, but it doesn't sound like something that's actually unique to trans women. Someone making false claims after a bad breakup and people believing claims of victimization are fairly normal occurrences across the board, especially since people do generally believe it's praxis to believe all victims immediately. The fact that your friends came around in a matter of days is a better than average result.

Hi Velvet, I think this is the second or third time you've come on to one of my posts where I talked about transmisogyny and tagged it as such. Those posts don't get a ton of traction, do you just like... patrol the transmisogyny tag or something?

Anyway I do not feel a need to clarrify myself to you. But I will add that there were a lot of details that I didn't add to the post, stuff I will not be discussing, that solidifies my belief that it was an example of transmisogyny. I'm not at liberty to talk about some of it, and for the rest I honestly just do not care enough to defend myself to you. I lived my life and you read a rant about it.

That aside, do you know how many transfems I know who have been made out to be rapists/mentally ill after they broke up with their partners? Do you want me to list all the normal occurences across the board that have made me personally terrified to show others intimacy? Why is it that when someone says "that trans girl is a rapist!" people believe her but when trans girls say "we keep getting called rapists, this sucks" we get people like you telling us that it's normal to be made out into a charicature and systematically cut off from your entire social group?

Now that I've got that out of the way, let's dig into your word choice.

"What happened to your friend" this voice is so passive it's going 45 in a 50. "What that guy did to your friend" is much more direct and active, that's a sentence fragment that drinks orange juice with its breakfast. I probably would've accepted "what was done to your friend" because even though it's passive it still emphasizes that someone did something wrong. But you didn't even do that. Instead you completely removed the idea of fault from the equation, no one did it, nothing caused it, it was divine intervention that my friend nearly lost their entire support network.

"does sound awful" it doesn't sound like anything. It is awful, through and through. I hate the man that did it even though my friend has forgiven him.

"better than average result" average what? Messy breakup or transfem targetting rumor mill? It was a better than average result, I can attest to the average and it's not good. I'm glad I was there to sway people back to reality.

Moving on, you only addressed one of the two things I mentioned. I said "break up with a trans woman and unperson her" and "unperson any trans woman who's minorly annoying." You completely skipped the whole "a guy tried to tell people I was a gaslighter because I asked him to stop calling my friend a sociopath" bit. The post wasn't even saying that what happened was specifically transmisogynistic (it was), I was literally just talking about how stuff I was hearing mapped onto my life.

I also find it interesting, how you put this in an ask instead of a reblog. A reblog puts whatever I said on your account, an account I've heard you regularly use to support transmisogynists. I'm happy to talk to you more, genuinely I like to argue and you seem interesting enough. But I want what I say on your account. I'm not going to respond to another ask or reblog on this one until you reblog the original. Here I even got you a link.

[brucewaynehater101]

I miss the feeling I had when I first joined this fandom, I knew virtually nothing so everything was correct and I loved everything, even if that stuff just isn’t true, i was like

Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated but loves his kids? Hell yeah sounds legit

dick is a silly happy flippy man who is a bit promiscuous? Love that for him

Jason is a mega feminist literature nerd who is also buff and takes care of the street kids? Perfect man honest

Tim is a nerd who never sleeps and is queer and has never known the touch of a man nor woman? Sweet

Steph is waffle obsessed goofball? Well I prefer pancakes but right on

Cass is a mute badass who loves her fam? I love her

Duke is a normal dude? Well someone has to be and he seems neat

Alfred can do no wrong? Aight, I love old perfect tea men

Damian is a little prick? So are all middle schoolers give him time

But then I had to go learn about the characters and now I have complex opinions about them, and can see the inherent racism and sexism in how they are portrayed

You know before I joined the bat fandom I did not use the exclude tag in ao3? Like tmnt and dp have some bad stuff but usually I could just scroll past.

but now I am having to avoid fics where whole ass adults are bullying and/or oversexulizing a child

Im constantly on the look out for untagged batcwst

I struggle to find fics that don’t describe dicks ass

I have been in this fandom for probably about two years now and y’all I swear

sorry for ranting, and don’t worry I love all your stuff and I know the just back click don’t leave mean comments rule

I’m just tried bc most of the stuff I thought was true turned out to be false

Mm. I do find it a little exhausting trying to navigate the lines of what's canon, what shouldn't be canon (but is due to racism/sexism/homophobia/etc.), and just having fun.

I'm also trying to cultivate the mindset of what I've seen on Tumblr about not policing other people's ships/ideas. I am highly uncomfortable with some (particularly underaged people and adults dating), but I'm also not leaving hate comments. Like you said, the backspace exists for a reason.

Idk. There's a toooon of takes/ideas about the batfam that are inherently false, but as long as they aren't racist/sexist/etc takes, I don't see the harm in them. So what if someone wants a coffee obsessed Tim? So what if Jason's kill code is very strict? As long as they don't claim it's canon, let them be

But yeah. I have a mile long exclude list for fics on AO3. I used to use it only for triggers (I can not do stockhold syndrome, my lords), but now it's got other weird ass shit I've stumbled upon (I saw a fic where the batkids were spanked as punishment??? Like I said, not gonna leave hate comments or single anyone out. Just not my cup of tea).

I also am usually not a fan of romance/sex. It's why the batfam intrigued me so much (found families usually don't have that in it). I like exploring dynamics outside of romance and thus love the batfam. They've got so much going on that romance/sex is not needed. They are such a mess without that dynamic being added (talking about the Bats getting with a third party, but, again, trying not to yuck anyone's yum).

However, I agree. There's a ton of misinformation within fandom. I like how complex canon gets with the characters, but there's also widely different takes with them (mostly talking about Bruce here. He can either be trying or just a straight up horrible dad).

[thomine]

i care more to be loved : kaveh

pair: kaveh / reader info: general audiences, consumption of alcohol (mentioned in passing), off-screen kiss scene, nonlinear narrative (numbering system in place to help make sense of time but scenes are intentionally in that order), dysfunctional relationship, canon compliant, angst (with a hopeful ending?), not proofread

summary: you don't believe you found love but you found kaveh. that's close to love, right?

word count: 5.4k links: read on ao3 / work tag notes: um. not i'm not really back from hiatus. yes that's a little women (2019) quote. you may read the author's commentary for more info.

ONE.

There should be a word to describe those like you who withdraw from social gatherings. You don't hate people so you aren't anti-social, and it's not like you don't hang out with others—forming connections is your job. You are the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. There are just some days you cannot bring yourself to keep up, and today is one of them. While your social circle is partying at Lambard's Tavern, you sneak out of your house into the forest beside Sumeru City with a small container of snacks and some textile. A lonely picnic it will be, but loneliness is not the issue here. Neither is hunger, but you have to keep yourself occupied.

You find a comfortable spot under shade with a beautiful view of the setting sun and lay out a shoddy sheet of straw before placing a mat over it. It's a cloth given to you by your mother after scoring well, although her face when you declared you weren't joining the Akademiya made you feel she regretted getting you anything in the first place. This mat does cost a lot so you keep it pristine to honour her efforts.

The container that keeps your food warm is also a gift, one you bought yourself after years of eyeing it through windows. It is nicer when it is on display, but you don't regret buying it. It is practical and you'll give credit to where its due despite the miscellaneous inconveniences in its design.

Once you've settled in a comfortable spot facing west, you watch as the last light of the day diminishes. This is—what you like to believe—a refuge, but your worries never cease to leave you. You wonder what your friends are doing at the tavern. Probably drinking their life away while jostling and cheering. Having fun. Playing games. Enjoying the atmosphere. Putting their best foot forward.

For love.

Like artists musicians that decorate the streets on festive nights, awaiting tips and change to drop into their hats.

As your brain depressingly quips with itself, you can't hear footsteps from behind. It is only when a shadow covers you that you take note you are not alone, and also realise you have been crying.

"I hope I'm not disturbing?" the uninvited voice asks, gently. When you turn (after wiping your tears as discretely as you can), you meet a blonde man with warm eyes made even warmer with the shine of sunset. He kneels to meet you at eye level as you present your business smile. "I saw your mat and I was wondering where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" You stand, uncomfortable with his gesture of kneeling to meet your gaze. You wear your shoes and step off the object he's interested in so he has a full view. "It was imported from Inazuma. They sell the finest textiles so I'm not surprised it caught your attention. Want to try sitting on it? Oh, but please take off your sandals."

The man seems to be half-listening as he straightens. You wonder if your eyes are puffy to give away your earlier misery, but other than his intrepid stare directed at you, he's fixed on the mat.

"And how much would it cost? Are you still in contact with the merchant? Wait, before we continue let me introduce myself." He extends his hand for a handshake. "I'm Kaveh, an architect. I'm building a large mansion nearby and will also be in-charge of designing its interior. Such a mat would look wonderful among the furniture I plan to get."

You look around, unsure why you haven't seen any construction. Was it approved or is this guy just lofty? Regardless, you exchange pleasantries. After giving your name, you add, "I'm afraid I do not have the particulars of the merchant. My mother bought this for me"—you hope you don't look constipated—"but we are not in contact so I can't help you trace the mat's source."

"A pity," he says, shoulder slouching. "Sumeru textiles would work but I really like this design."

Again, it's not that you dislike people, but you really want to be alone right now. You look at the mat, memories of a distant past weigh heavy in your throat. It would be nice to say goodbye to it once and for all.

"You can have it." Grabbing the edges, you fold the textile as he gawks. "I don't use it other than as a mat when I'm outside—which isn't frequent. Hearing what you have planned, you'll make better use of it. I'll just get another one."

"But this is from your mother, isn't it? Wouldn't you want to keep it for that reason alone?"

You pass the rolled up mat to him with a lopsided smile. "Oh, it's just a mat to me. Don't worry about it and don't think too much of this. See you."

You then pick up your barely touched food and trudge back home before he can reject your offer.

⠀

⠀

TWO.

You hear someone call your name. It's your name, yes, but still unfamiliar on the tongue of this person. The first thought that comes to you is that it is a client, but clients don't address you by your name. Only your nickname. That's how you differentiate your personal and professional circles. All personal connections eventually mix with your profession, so they handle your name like experts. Vowels and consonants wrapped in a specific tone. This is fairly… friendly.

There was someone you met recently… you try to recall that moment but it doesn't appear until you are face to face with a blonde man with warm eyes.

Ah, Kaveh.

To his luck, you are chirpier than when he last met you. With energy to perform, you smile brightly and greet him, although your pronunciation is off as one would for new names. He doesn't seem to mind though.

"Glad to bump into you," he huffs while leaning over, supporting his upper body with hands on his knees. You let out a small laugh.

"I wouldn't call you running to greet me as bumping into me."

"Don't take it the wrong way, I wasn't stalking you or anything. I just saw you walk down this street and thought I'd say hi."

This man is puzzling. First, he claims to be building something large near where you were seated, and yet with your purview of the land you see not a single construction. Then, he runs towards you just to say hi. Is saying hi to someone you barely know that important?

"Well, um, hello then," you say, extending an arm for an awkward handshake. "How's your project so far?"

"It's…" he clears his throat. "The mat you gave me was perfect. I should really thank you. Should we have a meal together? My treat."

"No need to treat. I just had lunch with my friends. I was heading back, actually."

"Do you stay nearby?"

"Relatively close. What about you?"

"Um, I stay nearby as well."

Something is definitely up with this guy.

"Is there anything else?" you ask as you place your hands on your hips. "I'm sure you're busy yourself."

"Let me treat you at least once. Whenever you're free."

You don't understand why he's so insistent, but it reminds you of desperate clients even more desperate to keep their business afloat. They always have something to offer in hopes it can gain them something of greater value. Not that you are great at weighing these deals, but emotionally, you play this game everyday. Perhaps giving him the mat was a habitual act of the same principle. You hoped giving him the mat will grow something, and this may be your chance to harvest it.

How tiring, but isn't that necessary? Condition and reward. Didn't he say he was building a mansion? You might want someone of such caliber in your books.

"I'll take up that offer for a meal, but you don't have to pay for it." You take out a paper and pen to jot your address. "Tomorrow, dinner? I'll cook."

Once again, before Kaveh can react, you make your leave. You dissolve into the crowded street, wondering what will bloom from this.

⠀

⠀

FIVE.

You still don't know where Kaveh lives after a year, but he surely knows how to make your house like his own. You did not expect to have common interests, and his philosophies intrigue you enough to not be bored. When he doesn't appear on Fridays, you are surprised, but even then you don't push for details or a reason the next time he comes over. His life is his life and yours is yours.

You know he keeps his secrets such as details of the project (which grants him highs and lows, as all things do) while you keep your worries private. To meet him more frequently means nothing, at least that's what you believe.

"What are we?" Kaveh asks one quiet evening as you tear through your dinner. He has become such a staple in your life silence feels comfortable. His question, however, rips the atmosphere like you and your meal. You tongue feels heavy as your mind replay scenes that happened last week. He tried to bring it up once too, but the moment you expressed discomfort, he surrendered. It seems the water in the kettle has finally reached its boiling point.

"What do you mean? What else can we be?"

"Do friends really do what we do?" he probes. You give him a quizzical look, daring him to be clear. "Are you going to deny our kiss last week?"

"You stayed over and we got drunk. That's all that happened." You bite your lips. You had hoped the weekend would mean he would forget everything somehow. "You were lonely. I was lonely. That's all there is to it."

"So the kiss meant nothing." He looks forlorn, slouching in his chair as his legs sprawl under the table, as if he's as exhaled like a flattened balloon. "Why do you do this to me?" he asks, voice wavering. "Are my feelings for you not clear?"

You place your cutlery down and wipe your mouth. You lost your appetite. "I'm not here to discuss this. I'm going to go for a walk."

As you stand, so does Kaveh. He gets up with such force his chair falls back. It is a chair he bought for himself after he ruined yours. Not his fault. The chair was going to give way anyways. This chair, though, is handpicked by him to match whatever miserable mess of furniture you have. It isn't costly, but no one sits on it other than Kaveh.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist. You flinch but do not pull away.

"You should head back home and sleep too. Maybe you just aren't in the right mind," you mumble. "You did drink yourself dead because of stress so you should rest."

"You kissed me. I can't just wake up next day and pretend everything is fine. You know how I feel about you."

"I already told you I was lonely, okay? Do you really want to be with someone who uses you because you're conveniently here? And it's not like you actually like me either."

"Why do you keep saying that? You don't know how I feel."

"I know. I know the game we play. If I didn't give you the mat that very day I would be a stranger to you even now. If I didn't show you any kindness you would have hated me. Don't you get it Kaveh? This world is based on conditions, and every condition I've set such that you'll like me. I've trapped you like a rat and I let you delude me to believing lies."

"What are you talking about?" Kaveh's voice is as scratchy as sandpaper. It doesn't sit right to see such a a pretty face this distressed. "If you say I'm stressed you must be too. Nothing from your mouth makes sense. Tell me, what's bothering you? We can work it through." He grabs your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. A gesture you've gotten used to—indulgently. He first held your hand like this when you were sick. How comforting it was but now it repulses you, yet not enough to reject his warmth still.

"Kaveh, listen to me. The moment you don't get what you want from me, you're going to walk out of this door. You don't love me. You love the conditions I set. It is like a prey falling for a predator's tricks."

"Then say you don't love me."

You swallow.

"So by your logic the reason you kissed me is because I helped you through your loneliness. Have you wondered maybe you caused it upon yourself? You keep such a distance with your friends, they don't even know about me."

"What are you implying?"

"Maybe you do love me. You can treat me as you do with your friends. Avoid me, isolate yourself, but you invite me even to your pity parties. Can you really say I'm a prey, or am I someone who willingly walked into your den for I know you aren't the predator you believe you are."

"Kaveh, please stop. You don't know me. I'll give you away as quickly as I gave the mat. You do not want to be involved with me."

You jerk your hand out of his grasp. As usual, you leave Kaveh faster than he can react. After your hour trek through the forest you return to an empty house with an empty heart.

Pity party? Pft. You definitely don't host pity parties. The moments you choose to be away from your friends are moments you regain your energy to fight the world. It is difficult to keep having to present yourself as lovable. To have someone like Kaveh accompany you through these times means nothing.

It doesn't mean anything.

⠀

⠀

SIX.

You were right. Kaveh doesn't return the next Friday, or the Friday after that. As if you've unplugged a lifeline, he doesn't exist. You don't even see him around the streets he normally hangs around.

"You seem upset," a friend of yours say. She is the owner of a small cafe situated in the bazaar. A friend from your youth you know you have to maintain good relations with. Her coffee isn't to your liking but they have won awards. In fact, brewing coffee is not her only strength. She is good at gathering intel.

"Am I?" you force a laugh. "Must be the lack of sleep. Work has been piling up as of late."

She sips her tea as you observe the stillness of yours. Rich brown liquid. Warm to touch. Memories of Kaveh's hands wrapped around yours ignite your chest with sorrow. You swallow it with your drink.

"I heard that you seldom visit the bazaar to buy dinner," your friend inquires. Of course she will turn her tricks to you. "I'm not saying you can't get your food anywhere else, but I do recall you recommending Jut's dishes. Fast and delicious for anyone working over time."

"Have you met him? I told him of your recently opened store and he said he would drop by. Wouldn't it be cool if there was a collaboration between the two of you?"

"You know when to find a business opportunity when you see one. As expected for someone who scored well in the exams."

"You just like to flatter people, don't you? You scored even higher. My mum never shut ups about it, and I believe she'll still bring it up even now."

"But my networks aren't as wide. You truly know how to rope people with that smile of yours. Not to mention you're always too kind for your own good. Thanks for the free sponsor, by the way."

You ease a laugh, glad to have the topic changed. "Oh don't mention it. It was a discounted deal anyways." You finish your drink and decide it is time to leave, but your friend's next words hold you prisoner.

"I was wondering if you've heard of Kaveh?"

"…What about him?"

"So you do know him."

"Bumped into him once. Said he was working on a big mansion in the forest. What about him? Are you going to ask if I can help you connect with him?"

"Not really. Not professionally at least. I think he's charming… he stopped by my store once"—of course, because you told him to give her stall a try—"and was so nice. He's so pretty, don't you agree?"

You pull your head back as you force a laugh so she can't see the way your eyes wrinkle with remorse.

"If I can get in contact with him, I'll let you know. I have to go first though." You gesture to your finished drink. "Thanks for the drink."

She stands with you and edges close with arms open. You lean to give her a hug. Before she can remember to ask for anything more, you're out of the bazaar.

⠀

⠀

THREE.

You truly are a person with no qualifications other than a disappointed mother and an award-winning smile. You put on masks and play pretend, trying to inflate your credentials so others will believe you are lovable. You can be loved. You will be loved.

But what if you're just a singular person who stares at sunset with a container of home made food while you let your thoughts powered by self-deprecating rot and doubt to run wild? Will you still be lovable then? It is a question that grips you even more than death itself.

You are a beggar at the mercy of those that pass by. Your hands empty and shivering. Love me, you cry. What I give is the feeling of superiority. The feeling that you're doing something good. In return I want you to love me.

Can you really say, then, that someone will love you for who you are? Would there not be this underlying feeling that they chose you out of pity?

You know people will be at your funeral, but will it be for you?

"So you were crying the day I met you," Kaveh says as he appears from behind. You have invited him to join your picnic, but he's late and your thoughts have grown to be a beast that demands your tears. "Sorry, that's not a good entrance. I didn't mean to be a busybody."

You wipe your wet eyes, uncaring of being discrete as you have been caught. Kaveh brought along more food. He unpacks them on your new plain mat.

"No, I'm thankful you didn't say anything that day," you note. "I don't think I wanted you to point it out. Would have ruined my mood even more."

Kaveh takes the spot you've prepared for him, leaning on his hand positioned behind to get a good view of the sky. He's still a stranger—in some sense—but a very welcoming one at that. There is something about the way he treats you that makes you feel you can trust him with your secrets. Not that you will share it with him. He's only come over for dinner the past month. Your friendship with him is developing faster than you'd like, but when he does things like randomly send you letters because something reminded him of the conversation over dinner or when he buys your favourite ice cream because it was on sale and he remembered you, it's hard not to grow fond of him.

In your area of business you should return such gestures, but he somehow makes himself indebted to you. You've never have the scale balanced when it comes to him. Perhaps inviting him into your private moment is your attempt at leveling what he skewed. Maybe this is part of his greater plan—he'll count these blessings as a means to an end, but for once, you aren't doing business. It never feels like it with him.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" he asks after a moment of silence. You shake your head. "Fair enough. Sitting down to watch the sunset is already easing my own stress."

"You really didn't have to do all of this, by the way," you motion at the food he bought and laid out. So much for trying to make things even. "I told you I was going to cook."

"But it's to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?"

"To us being friends. You've helped me so much and now you're inviting me to a picnic? Surely this means we're getting closer. Plus, look over there." He points to something in the distance. You move closer to him to see his line of view and notice bright colours poking from the canopy of the forest. "That's my project and we've finally started construction. Surely this is a moment to celebrate."

"I'm really happy for you."

You lean your head against his shoulder briefly, like a nudge. The smile on your face is small, but it's sincere.

⠀

⠀

FOUR.

Kaveh is acting strange. He is outside the door but he has yet to knock. He's mumbling things to himself and you feel tempted to open it just to scare him as a lesson to not talk to himself outside your door, but you've yet to clean the living room. He comes in like a storm and places his things everywhere. It's not that you mind though. It's just embarrassing to have him know you keep the house as he left it as evidence that you aren't alone.

Finally, his long-anticipated knock comes. You yell for him to wait as you finish the final touches and swiftly open the door. Tonight, you cooked The Endeavour in hopes to rival the one he made for you last week. It is an intricate piece of art disguised as the dish Fatteh. Only he can come up with something as extravagant as that, so you're not trying to beat him in presentation but taste.

You open the door, anticipation bursting in your eyes.

"You won't believe what I—"

"I love you and I—"

You blink, staring blanking at your favourite flowers covering your view. When you push it down to see Kaveh, his face is flushed. His eyes avoid you, and he seems to have regretted saying anything at all with the way he bites his lips.

"Did I ruin it?" he mumbles, free hand covering his face as the other pushes the bouquet into your arms, as if to say he wants you to carry the embarrassment away. "Was this bad timing?"

You gingerly take the bouquet and usher him in before he decides to run away.

"Let's… have dinner first."

You place the bouquet on the table in the living room as you bring out dinner.

"What was it you wanted to say?" Kaveh fidgets with his hands, voice strained with worry. "You sounded really excited."

"It's this," you say with less enthusiasm than you expected. "I loved what you brought me last week and I wanted to try making it too. It can't rival your presentation, but I hope it's edible."

"It's lovely." The compliment doesn't reach his eyes. Not that he doesn't believe what he's saying. They're just busy with other emotions as they intrusively search your expression. You try to keep it normal.

"Dig in," you chirp, pointing towards the dish that, when you think about it, is a poor rendition of what Kaveh gave you. "Let me know what you think."

He takes a bite and slowly the conversation buries his confession. You're back to laughing while he's rambling. The bouquet of flowers sits on the table without water—withering, if you may put it—while you and Kaveh's relationship continues to grow.

That night, you lay in bed wondering what his words mean.

What have you done?

⠀

⠀

SEVEN.

"The Palace of Alcazarzaray has been destroyed by the withering." News headline reads in bold. You stare at the paper, wondering why the name of the mansion rings a bell. You read on and you gasp when you see his name.

"…the architect, Kaveh…"

Your eyes dig into the words to extract every piece of information you can. Although he never told you the details of the project, it was undeniable how much passion and love he had for it. Talking about the project was always a gateway for him to share about his past, present, and even future. He told you of his time at the Akademiya, his parents, his dreams and aspirations. To have this project fail broke your heart knowing his has been broken.

Is that the reason he has been avoiding you? Was that the reason he arrived at your house multiple times looking worse than before? The reason he drank so much that night which you half-joked was because of the project really was the reason. Your kiss must have caused his mind to enter a flurry that pulled him under.

What have you done?

They say love does not make you think straight. Can you blame it on love or is this solely your selfish doing?

You don't wait for the answer as you scramble out of your door after grabbing your essentials. You have to find Kaveh, figure out how much he owns and how he's doing. You have to help him in one way or another if not who knows what will happen to him—

But you don't find him. He finds you instead. He's a few meters away from your door, approaching you with bloodshot eyes. You sigh, an act of relief but also concern, as you walk towards him.

"It's been long," you say after greeting him, unable to meet him in the eye. "I heard about the project. I want to help."

"No."

"What?" You raise your head and look at him, dumbfounded. "Why not? If you need money, I have some."

"I know you'll say that, but I cannot accept it."

"Why not? I don't want to see you"—you gesture towards all of him—"like this." For someone who tries to keep himself well kept, he is disheveled beyond recognition. Hair a mess, attire robbed to a plain t-shirt and pants that cover him decently. He looks pathetic, like a beggar, and who loves to see someone in such a state? Saviour complex or not, you know you can help him, and you will. "Come inside. Let's discuss it there. You look famished. I'll cook up something for you and—"

He calls your name. You still remember the first time he reached out to you on that busy street. How different your personal name was on his tongue compared to others. That friendliness has never left. In fact, it grew fonder over time. You should have noticed his feelings before he announced it, but maybe you were hoping it wasn't true. Now, he says your name dripping in tenderness and you want to scream.

Don't do this to me, you think as you drag him in your house regardless. I don't need you to remind me of your feelings. Of how I hurt you.

Once the door closes, as you're about to leave to prepare him a warm cup of coffee, he grabs your hand.

"I'm here to let you know I'm not accepting any help from you, and my feelings will remain."

"You're crazy. What are you going to—"

"You said that I only like you for your kindness, for the things you did. I'm here to let you know even if you don't show me an inch of kindness, I'll still love you."

"You shouldn't do that. That's stupid. That's illogical—"

"But it's your logic." He leans closer, almost putting his entire body weight on you. It is at this proximity you smell the faint scent of alcohol. "If I can't prove it to you with my logic then I'll have to use yours."

"You're not thinking straight. Look, Kaveh, remember the great girl who runs a coffee shop in the bazaar? She wants to meet you. She can make better coffee than me, is more beautiful and smarter. Her business is expected to skyrocket after marketing and maybe you can get your funds from her too. You'll find better, more amazing people. You shouldn't waste your time trying to prove to me that you like me. You don't even have to prove to yourself you like me."

Kaveh stays quiet. He stops moving too. You would think he is dead but you've handled a drunk Kaveh more often that you'd like to admit. Thankful he stopped his thrashing. You drag him onto the sofa and begin making preparations for when he wakes. Medicine, food, maybe some contract for him to be your roommate.

However, when he wakes, he is even more adamant on his stance, and more logical to argue for it too.

At least he drinks your coffee and eats the meal you prepared for him: a simple bowl of cream soup. He devours it almost in an instant, and you wonder how long he's not eaten. Given his new skinnier frame, you're betting at least a full day.

"I'll make seconds." You take his bowl and turn to head to the kitchen but he denies you once again by grabbing your arm. You hate how difficult it is to shake him away. You hate how a part of you is happy he wants you to stay.

"That's enough. I am not a baby. You of all people should know this."

"Yes, but in your current state? I wouldn't say so."

He releases his grip and you return to your seat. He sits upright on the sofa, a good distance away from the flowers he bought for you now kept in a small vase.

"I know you're worried about me," he starts as he rests his hands on his thigh and looks at the floor.

"Yes, it isn't a very nice situation to be in." And I probably made it worse.

"But I have a plan. The overseers of this project will not abandon it, and I sold my house but I met up with Alhaitham who I will live with in the mean time."

"See? You never know when you'll need to pull strings with people you dislike."

"I don't dislike him. At least, him as a person. Just his views of others."

You chuckle. "Same thing, isn't it? What is a person without their views? Their passions? Their aspirations? That's who they are."

"Their flaws as well." He looks at you, warm eyes intense like a burning flame. You shy away from his gaze. "Thank you for your help," he clears his throat, probably embarrassed he fell on you like that while drunk. It's not the first, and you hope it's not the last.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"It's fine. I will deal with it myself and I'll show you what I mean."

Another question sits on your tongue. Will you continue to ignore me and only come to me during your drunken stupors?

But he beats you to it.

"I know this is a silly question, but why do you want to help me so badly? If you believe I was lured by your kindness, then why continue being kind to me?"

"I don't deny I'm selfish," you start as you look at the floor, tucking your feet closer to your body. "I do kind things so people are tethered to me. I don't want you to leave."

You give him a side glance, expecting some sort of disgust or distaste, but instead he looks solemn yet shocked. It's better than being judged or disgusted.

"I'm sorry, Kaveh," you whisper. "I don't think I'll ever love you the way you want me to. I don't know how that works."

"Then that's even more reason to not accept your help. I won't give up."

Silence except the ticking clock in your room. This time it's unnerving, but not in a bad way. You are aware of your breathing—chest rising up and down—while your heart rate quickens as heat gathers at your face. When did he have such an effect on you?

"Visit me even if you're in a pitiful, sorry state. Even if it's unbearable to see you the way you are right now. And even after that, when you've got your bearings, I still want to have dinner with you."

"I will be back," Kaveh announces as he stands. He smiles, satisfied.

author's note: as always thank you for making it until the end. this story came to me in a whirlwind of inspiration. whether you agree with reader's point of view or not, i do hope you come to realise that love, as tricky as it is, is also fairly simple because it is everywhere around us. it may not come in the form that we want but we shape the love we receive with our hands by changing ourselves. stay strong fellas (i am loosing my brain cells as we speak).

[frownyalfred]

tl;dr: what's your opinion on posting roleplay replies on ao3?

i know they are frowned upon on ao3, at least that's what i've seen so far, which i can understand... to some extend. they are allowed in the archive, yes, but they also clock tags and it's annoying to read something you don't understand without the other replies and further context. they are tolerated, but i get the sentiment.

here's the thing... i rarely write for myself. i enjoy writing with others and building something together, and sometimes i create pieces i'd love to share. like, recently i have written a reply for someone that explores two different bruce's; one that has helena wayne/the huntress as his biological daughter, one that doesn't, how she got cursed into another universe, and how one deals with losing his child, while the other tries to re-order his life in order to make her fit. it's something beautiful that works on it's own, something i am very fond and proud of, but i'm torn on wether i should post it or not.

i could've kept the fact it's from roleplay a secret, but that also feels shit, lmao. i could keep it to tumblr, but no one would read what i put out -- let's be real, tumblr works very different compared to ao3. so i thought i'd give reaching out to one of my favorite authors a chance.

sorry for the lenght, feel no need to answer.

Hmm. I guess I haven't given it a ton of thought before now. I don't usually engage in roleplay myself, but I absolutely view it as a legitimate version of creation. Just because it's created a certain way doesn't mean it doesn't belong on ao3 -- it's an archive for transformative works, not just cookie-cutter fic formats.

I would say, err on the side of caution and tag as much as you're comfortable (tagging things after the required ao3 warnings is always optional, I want to reiterate, but sometimes additional tags help readers a lot). Make sure it's clear what the structure of the work is, if possible, but don't do yourself a disservice by making roleplay a dirty word, if you use it.

I don't think you're "clogging" up the tag, any more than the person writing 139/250 50 word individual fics haha. There will always be floods of content in various tags, and people who throw shitfits about that need to grow up. Unless someone is breaking the ao3 TOS, everything else is "etiquette" and that truly is nebulous and subjective, even if people will insist it isn't.

As for the missing context and replies -- I think that's something you can get creative with, if you want. But also, if you never fill in those blanks or provide that context, that's okay too. It's an archive, not a site where you have to actively promote your fic and make it the most appealing it can be to the largest group of people.

A final note on context though: I've found that the roleplay chunks I do come across in the wild look a lot like dialogue planning I do for some fics! If you ever want to turn them into a traditional fic structure, I don't think you're very far off at all. But only if you wanted! As I said above, I think what you have is 100% legitimate and should stand on its own on ao3.

[a-traveling-void-human]

Something I thought of during my bkdk brain rot while eating breakfast. You know, normal.

For some reason, I'll take ANY fic that has Bakugou and Deku just being NEAR each other. LIKE I don't mind if they were just, friends- (I want more but carry on) it's still BKDK content. I think I just like Bk and Dk, that is very obvious.

I just want them to be next to each other. In each others proximity. JUST NEAR EACH OTH-

Like, Fics I just ignore the tags and immediately thought of bkdk even though it's not about bkdk but, yeh:

"Drifting through the cosmos" by My lost and found.

This fic is literally my comfort fic, like no shit.

"Zutopia" by Itslivybear

UGH I love Izu smart fics.. I'm ignoring the Bk and shinsou comment and think of bkdk

"Ace of Spades" by Smiley5494

This one I just lOVES the vibe. Like come on, Izu being the mastermind is ALWAYS a fav trope of mine

"Boku no Hero Academia" by Kohēi Horikoshi

lmao- I'm so funny

"The curse of the anime protagonist" by masterdipster

IT'S SO BAD THAT THIS FIC DIDN'T FUCKING FINISHED BUT GAAAAAH IT'S SO GOOD

"Vigilantism of Olympic Proportions" by 3AMFanFicQueen

Trust me. Just read it and keep READING.

...

I think this post is more me, wanting to talk about Drifting through the cosmos.. but like also recommending more Gen fics because GEN FICS ARE GOOD MAN HOLY SHIT PLOT IS SO GOOOD-

please someone talk to me about drifting through the cosmos I'm so desperate to talk about it to someone. PLEASE.

[whousestypewriters]

i don't know why i'm here - j.h x reader

pairing: jameson hawthorne x fem!reader

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing

a/n: hellooooo this is a long overdue fic but i was in a jameson mood hehe so here we are babies. also this is set in a boarding school :))

taglist: @midiosaamor, @reminiscentreader, @ravenclawdirectioner, @tornqdowarnings, @benny1989fredd,

@foolish1girl, @off-to-the-r4ces, @emelia07, @delicatepoett, @kozumesphone, [if your name is white it means i couldn't tag you]

jameson hawthorne is smart. dangerously so.

but you're smarter. and you prove it on the days when you win tests and pop quizzes.

most of the time only by one point, but still. beating jameson hawthorne is something you relish in. its not often that the only hawthorne brother that attends mightwood academy shows weakness.

and ever since the time you beat him on your first day and first pop quiz he's been out to win back the coveted spot at the top of the class.

so what started as a petty competition has now grown into the largest rivalry on campus. everybody knows about it. its gotten to the point where if people see you walking towards your room with a frown etched onto your face, they know to get out of the way. or the same way if they see jameson sauntering towards you with a smirk on his face, they know to lean in to watch.

most of them can't tell if you're about to rip each others throats out or starting making out. it could go either way honestly.

and right now as you watch jameson idly walk over to your desk - the teacher not even bothering to tell him off; he's the jameson hawthorne, why would she tell him off? - you decide you want to rip his throat out.

"well, well, mea vita-" the stupid nickname he calls you grates on your nerves. he won't tell you what it means and apparently latin is the one language you have a personal problem with and refuse to learn it. or maybe you just don't want to know what stupid insult he's calling you.

"what did you score?" he asks placing his test paper on the table, the red one hundred at the top a taunt left for you.

"an ehjdfnphs," you mumble.

"a what-y what what?"

"an eighty-six," you snap at him. shoving your paper down onto the desk, grabbing your bag and storming out of the classroom, ignoring the teachers calls.

maybe it was the fact that you had had a fight with your mother that morning, because she wasn't letting you come home for the holidays and demanding you stay during the schools winter break. or maybe it was the fact that jameson was acting like and ass and you finally had enough.

which ever it was, it doesn't matter. you lost your shit in class so thats going to be a detention on your record and thats going to be another week of tormenting from jameson.

you exhale when you swing the door to your room open and launch your bag onto your bed. sitting down in your desk chair and shoving your head in your hands.

a sigh leaves your lips and instead of wallowing in your idiotic decisions you decide to throw yourself into the one thing you're actually good at. studying - and sending an apology email to the teacher which will hopefully decrease your detention time.

time passes fast while you're buried in your books, words and notes fly past you as you read over the material you seemingly failed at learning well enough to score an eighty-six.

a knock at the door has you jolting awake - you don't even recall when you fall asleep but judging by your dry mouth and patch of drool on the desk you did.

yawning you get up and open to door surprised when you see a dishevelled hawthorne standing there.

"jameson?" you look over at your alarm clock on your desk. "it's eleven pm, what are you doing here?"

his words are soft, "i don't know." but he holds out a bowl candy in offering. "you missed dinner though i thought i would come and make sure you ate."

it must be the sleep deprivedness acting on your behalf, because you actually step back and let him in with a soft smile. his eyes widen in surprise as if he was expecting you to take the bowl and slam the door in his face - which if you weren't hungry or tired you probably would've done.

"so this is what your room looks like huh?" jameson's question is quiet. he scans the room as is he's remembering every detail about it. which you really wish you had time to clean up now that you think about it; the dirty dishes stolen from the kitchen, the scattered homework and the unfolded laundry piled on your bed doesn't exactly scream responsible.

"mea vita, have you even left your room to eat today?" he asks concern clouding his eyes.

"jameson. why are you here?"

he's quiet for a moment. "... i'm sorry about the way i acted earlier, it was a dick move to do that in class when i could already see you were in a bad mood."

"it was- wait how did you know i was in a bad mood?"

"i could just tell," he shrugs and sits on your bed. "but i really am sorry, i let the stupid feud get into my head."

it must be the fact that he brought your favorite candies in the bowl, or the gentle look on his face that makes you move towards him and sit down next to him.

"i'm going to win next time." why did you say that?

and just like that the calm in the room evaporates and jameson's devastating smile returns. "or so you think mea vita."

"I will, today was just a fluke."

challenge sparks in his eyes. "oh really?"

you inch closer getting in his face, "oh yes, i will. you're going to watch me win jameson hawthorne."

his eyes drop to your lips and your stomach drops - why is one look making you feel this way? this can't be good. "it would be an honor to watch you win, mea vita."

he bends down in a question and you nod letting him.

kissing jameson feels like falling. it feels like winning and losing at the same time. your breath hitches and you feel your composure about to come undone.

kissing jameson feels freeing. like you'll never have to pass another test as long as he there.

it feels like victory.

a/npt2: guys its 1am and i'm struggling to keep my eyes open so if that ending isn't good enough just let me know and i'll add a second part :))

[ghouldtime]

i usually don’t message anyone or anything but i just wanted to say i love your characterizations of konig, ghost, and soap very much. the love and appreciation you have for these characters really come through in your writing.

the cod fandom is full of talented writers but the majority of them write smut. it gets tiring scrolling through the tag and just seeing porn when i actually just wanna see… ppl who enjoy the characters outside of sex appeal, yk? so your blog, truly and genuinely, is a breath of fresh air.

that’s not even mentioning the ppl who write them as abusive or use them to fulfill certain fantasies. i mean i don’t kink shame ofc, but idk sometimes ppl write them in extremely degrading ways that do a disservice to their character and it bugs me a little. plus all the “innocent bimbo reader” rhetoric, idk it gets tiring.

anyway, sorry for the yap session, but i did mean everything i said genuinely !!

💚💚💚💚 Salutations anon! You really don't know how much I appreciate hearing this. Seriously, messages like this give me motivation to keep writing and to stay active on here. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU from the very depths of my heart. You've all been so so incredibly kind, sweet, and encouraging 😭 I don't know what I've done to deserve this but it's appreciated and you all are absolutely awesome. This has made my YEAR, thank you for taking time out of your day to send my silly self a message 💚💚💚💚💚

I'm so so happy my characterizations have hit the mark for some people and that I'm (hopefully) doing them some justice! I'm always worried about that because characterization matters heavily to me and I want to respect their characters and how much they mean to me and other people through it EVEN IF THE WRITERS OF THE LAST MODERN WARFARE DON'T KNOW WHAT A PROPER STORY LINE IS AND KILLED SOAP WHICH I'M NOT FORGETTING, IM NOT FORGIVING, AND IM CERTAIN NOT LIVE LAUGH LOVING WITH IT. I'm refusing to accept he's dead, no matter what they say

I love the boys all so much. They all have such interesting things about them and have a lot more dynamic to them than people think and I just want to represent them right, especially lesser appreciated characters (haven't actually really written for them yet but Keegan, Logan, Hesh, Sandman, Roach, Nikto, Krueger - legit I love them, anyone feel free to send asks or scenarios you'd like I WILL write them. Legit, y'all, you can send me asks about certain characters even if there isn't much on them. I WILL do my research and I WILL write to the best of my ability)

Oh there's many talented writers in the COD Fandom, there really are. I can't say I really know any personally seeing as I never really interact with other blogs but I've seen some reallly really nice fics with so much thought put in them. But equally, there's a lot of just... smut. Not even well written smut, I'm sorry, but a lot of it is just really, really poorly written. I'm all for do what you want, write whatever makes you happy. Freedom of speech! If it makes you happy, cool! But I'm also going to cringe cause a lot of it is... yeah, yikes

Not trying to be the smut police and say every detail must be accounted for and everyone should follow it in a certain way but plz basic anatomy 101, basic prep 101, no guy gal or enby pal will appreciate it if you just shove it in to anywhere dry and I've seen a loooot of that and other things that just hurt?????

I get it, people learn by reading/writing, but this is literally just a single search away. And common sense. There's also a lot of practices being unsafely represented (like fifty shades of gray level) and uh it's not on purpose, it's not meant to be dubious, but it just is written as that. PLEEEEASE please please do some research, the internet is right there

But I felt the same way. Like bless whatever y'all want to write, no shame and NO shade to writing smut. I'll probably eventually do it myself again in the future (undecided on that but it'd likely be a side blog if I do and would never be a main focus, I prefer story over smut action. Once again, no shade and no shame to those who don't, to each their own!). Never ever going to full on NSFW mode or only writing that, I'm always always always going to prioritize writing the characters first and trying to get more stories out there about them :D

But I got tired of opening it and all I see is just... smut, smut, more smut, extremely dubious content x 50. And maybe a sprinkle of normal things or fluff here and there. I just don't look in the tags honestly anymore, because so many people just don't properly tag it or give 0 warning at all, not even under a read more, just BAM, unavoidable unless you flat out don't look at the tags at all

There's more to the characters than just being attractive 😭and I love exploring those aspects of them and trying to figure out why they are the way they are

Also I'm ALWAYS going to have an issue with people who fetishize horrible things. When you're actively fantasizing and writing about someone abusing someone else, like flat out abuse, and being incredibly toxic and terrible to someone - just, please talk to a therapist. That's not social commentary, that's not a proper portrayal of real, HORRIBLE things that affect many people and have very real repercussions - that's perpetuating the negative narrative around a lot of struggles and setting it back by instead turning it into something that's treated as attractive. I really fully can elaborate on this and have a whole rant - but it's not cute and it's NEVER cool to fetishize actual, awful awful things that happen to people. Dead dove doesn't excuse you from judgement - especially when it's not even acknowledged. You're just saying you know what you write is probably morally reprehensible. Hey, I'm going to reprehend and won't respect you at all when you write awful things just cause and get off on it. Think people forget that. Dead dove is a descriptor and doesn't excuse you or make you instantly free from judgement or mean you're not doing something problematic/disgusting. It's just saying you know it is, that's about it.

I don't get why people do that when it's clear they have no idea what they're talking about. I've seen that a lot with the bully! Things. Like... wow, clearly some of you WEREN'T bullied and you're writing about it and it shows because if you were, hey, you know how fucking awful that shit is and how it leaves life long effects. Not saying this applies to all but there's a lot I see like that where it's just ".... wow, okay, so you don't have any idea what you're talking about, cool."

AND YEAH the mischaracterization really does do a great disservice where it's clear they're just after the characters for their physique. They just warp them so bad it's like "Are we talking about the same character?" . In AUs you get to explore that and can shape them to your wants, that's your choice! Highly recommend AU's, it allows so much freedom.

But when it's like.... regular? And it's just no where close and they're doing a 180 in how they actually are (like having Ghost flirt with strangers and be big scary daddy dom im sorry he's not at allllll) I don't get it and it's clear you really aren't writing about or for the character - at that point, plz, make your own characters. Just make your own OCs, it's great! And you can make them HOWEVER you want instead of just ignoring a character's characterization to make them fit what you want. And guess what? It's your character so you can TRULY do what you want and have them the way that you want instead of bending characters to fit a box that they weren't made for

I'm not saying you HAVE to write a character the same as me or in a specific way, but when it's a character with an established personality/backstory, the least you can do is follow that outside of AU's if you're writing for them. That's... the whole point of writing that character - I don't get why you'd write for them specifically if you're literally going to ignore everything about them

SPEAKING OF THE INNOCENT BIMBO THING, I'm also really not a fan. Once again, if that makes you happy to write or read, cool! I just am NOOOOT a fan. Why does the reader always have to be so small and so delicate and so pure/innocent? Why does the reader have to be just so UWU coded? Why are they always like "oh you're so little and small :( and just don't know any better" . It's either that or they're John fucking Wick with little in between. Pleeeease it hurts my soul

Its why I try to genuinely write a neutral geared reader with reactions that will likely fit a lot of people! I'm always taken out of a story's immersiveness when it mentions something like like your hair length or how uwu small you are in comparison. Give me just... average sensible reader. Give me reader who has realistic human reactions. Give me reader who isn't perfect, give me a reader who isn't magically special or different. Give me a reader who is just doing their best, who is THEMSELVES, with no intent otherwise. I love those fanfics so so much instead of trying to feel like I have to be something I'm not to get myself in the mindset to read some pieces NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPING. IM ALWAYS WANTING TO TALK IM ALWAYS AROUND 💚💚💚💚THANK YOU FOR THE MESSAGE IT MAKES MY HEART WARM AND MAKES ME SO SO HAPPY