#i got tagged by a handful of people for other positivity posts recently so this is my way of answering all of them

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

[sungiescheotluv]

champagne supernova ⭑.ᐟ park jisung

pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, emo(ish) jisung, non-idol au.

summary: making friends as an adult is difficult. luckily for you, the rock/alternative online community welcomes you with open arms, one person in particular catching your interest.

notes: hi thereee! 😁 back again with another jisung fic, one that i actually came up with myself lmao. since getting back into the dreamies, i've been a bit surprised by (but absolutely loving) jisung's taste in music. hence this silly fic, which i do hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your recent support, it makes my heart smile whenever you like or comment on a post! anyways, happy reading! much loveeeee! <3

The concept of internet safety is lost on you. How else could you explain sharing a hotel room with someone you’d never met before in real life? 

Perhaps, you should retrace your steps. See how you’ve managed to find yourself in such a dangerous position, the front door locked and your body pinned to the bed.

Making friends as an adult is difficult. On par with counting every grain of rice in a field, you’d say.

You underestimated how easy maintaining friendship was when younger, third places like school, daycares, extra-curricular activities demanding your presence, inadvertently strengthening your social life. Not that you were the most social, you had a hard time approaching people actually, but maybe that was a part of your charm. Bringing you out of your shell, like all your friends did before your bond was cemented in tree trunks or sandy beaches. University is the last place you take this ease for granted, exposed to all different kinds of people and relationships, some platonic and not-so much. Either way, despite the barge of assignments and countless nights out, you’d make it into adulthood relatively unscathed.

Adulthood, however, doesn’t turn out as you expect. You’d been sold a dream, one eight-year old you envisioned dabbling with the stars accompanied by a lavish life and all the ice-cream you could get your hands on. Unfortunately, no star would be rubbing shoulders with you anytime soon and any that would, you’d have to pay a large sum of money to even see. A large sum you did not have. So, yeah. Just that, toxic work culture, endless bills and a whole host of other obligations linger above your head like a grey cloud.

What helps is finding the small joys in life. Slow mornings when the city is asleep, the scent of coffee at the crack of dawn, the sunshine against your skin, friends who despite their busy schedules carve out time to see you. All pieces of your life that make it worth living. Music is in there too, the art of melodies and lyrics strung together having the strange ability to carry you throughout even your worst days.

Your moods refuse to stick to a certain genre and in the midst of dark afternoons and frost covered roads, you find yourself gravitating towards alternative music. Slow, steady and aching. Like how your life moves with the severe lack of sun. It’s not a genre your circle of friends dabble in as much as you do. It’s to be expected, anyone who deviates from a standard of ‘normalcy’ was outcasted, one too many examples found in your high school days where kids got called weird and satanic for wearing a Green Day t-shirt to school. The thought makes you laugh now, but back then, when all that matters is fitting in, it was sad and suffocating. Seeing a part of yourself denied before your very eyes. Sometimes you’d hang out with those kids, bond over your collection of CDs and even go to a few gigs together. However, when Monday came around and they’d approach you and your friends, raving about the concert - you froze. Confronted into either owning yourself and being outcasted like the rest of the emo kids or ignoring them, deny yourself for the sake of social standing. 

You pretend like they’ve grown two heads, feigned confusion knitting your eyebrows together while your friends laugh and hurl insults at someone who you considered a friend - a better one than the ones at your side. And yet, you let the laughter continue, a coward with its tail between its legs as you depart, the taste of iron on your tongue.

Maybe this is payback for those poor decisions. A dead-end job, a successful but shitting ex and enough inner turmoil to make a therapist clutch their pearls. 

You abandon those friends when you get to university, getting better ones that wouldn’t make someone feel small due to their own insecurities. You make amends with the emo kids, your apology marking the true end of your friendship. You search online spaces for like-minded people, showing up as yourself and being embraced as. Everyone in the Reddit community is unbelievably sweet, sharing their music recommendations, concert wishlists and pictures of their cats. Some members, including yourself, form a closer bond, taking your conversation to a Discord server that becomes your escape in a way. A channel for heartfelt discussion that extends past your love for music. You’re not as active due to work obligations, but whenever you pop up, one member in particular always greets you with a warmth like no other. 

Linkin.parkjisung is his user, his icon the rock and roll hand sign over his face. Likes Blur, Green Day, Oasis and of course, Linkin Park. He’s like you, dips in and out, types a few responses before he’s gone again. It’s a scenario where other members grow closer, and your anxiety around speaking in the group begins. They’re already close, it seems almost futile to interrupt, right? 

What if you’re ignored? What if you’ve missed your window of opportunity? 

It’s a line of thinking that crosses your mind when you send in an apology for being inactive, moments later your phone pinging with a notification.

Linkin.parkjisung: no need to apologize! life gets busy for everyone, myself included. hope you’re doing ok (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Other group members echo his message, sending in their own real-life obligations that the group ends up bonding over, complaining of rising car insurance and overly demanding bosses. 

It’s the start of it all, really. That one message, a hand extended to yours that breaks you out of your shell and kick starts your friendship with Jisung. From that day onwards, you move more freely throughout the server, making good friends with everyone but better friends with Jisung. Somewhere down the line, you end up privately messaging each other. What starts out as simply giving each other music recommendations (since he apparently always loves the songs/artists you send into the server) becomes sneaking into the bathroom during a busy family reunion to call Jisung about how your grandmother wore a catsuit to impress her ex, your grandfather. You grow that close, no details spared on life events. How else is there space for secrecy when you’re video calling drunk, watching festival performances of Fontaines D.C.?

In any case, you’re close. You text everyday and call every week like clockwork, namely because you live some hours away from each other. During your calls, he’s shrouded in a low darkness, self conscious of the way he looks, he says. You’re unconvinced, slivers of his features in photos he sends you with his roommates’ three cats or on call saying otherwise. Regardless, you let it slide because Jisung becomes more than his face - he becomes a source of comfort, someone who makes you laugh as much as brings you calm, someone you slowly can’t imagine your days without. In hindsight, this is where your romantic feelings develop. And with convenient timing too because one of the bands you recommended to Jisung, Wunderhorse are on tour, set to perform in a city two hours from the both of you.

“Tickets are going onsale at 10 am on Thursday,” Jisung murmurs, the clicks of his cursor coming through your laptop speaker. “Remember to set your alarm.”

“Will do. Lemme set a remin-” opening up your calendar, you see an unwelcome surprise. “Fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jisung’s voice echoes with sincere concern.

“I forgot I have a shift that day,” you groan, already knowing by the time your lunch break came, the event would be sold out. “We’re understaffed as is, so there’s no way I can get someone to cover for me.”

A deep hum vibrates from Jisung’s chest, a few more clicks of his cursor sounding before he asks in a small voice. “Well, I could just get the tickets for us both.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to be working from home that day anyways. And not to flex, but my internet’s pretty decent.”

You laugh. “Is that for your job or your crippling gaming addiction?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles back, the sound blooming a warmth of happiness in your chest. “Working in CompSci has its perks.”

“So, I’m finding out,” you smile, an underlying layer of discomfort shifting you against your desk chair. “Are you sure, though?”

“Of course. I’d hate if you lost out on this knowing I could’ve done something to help,” Jisung explains. “You were the one to introduce me to them anyways. Plus we’d have a better chance of sticking together in the pit if we get them together, right?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, something taking flight in your airy chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just send me your bank details so I can transfer you the day of.”

“Coming right up!” he jokes, and you laugh, however lame he claims himself to be.

On Thursday, he sends you a photo of his solid black high-tech set-up, a PC he’s constructed himself with more monitors than you can count. The side of his face is included in the picture, silky black hair, a brown eye and a beauty mark on his cheekbone you dream of kissing later that night. You find out he secures the tickets on your lunch break, your debt towards him being booking the hotel you’d be staying at. Due to the limited funds you’re working with, you end up getting a shared room, an option that gives him pause before he agrees in a tremored voice. You’re a bit apprehensive yourself, but you booked for two beds, so it should be fine. If worst comes to worst, and something happens between you two – like him turning out to be a sexist neckbeard loser he couldn’t take no for an answer - you’d sleep in your car (or kick him out, actually). At any rate, you had options (and a friend tracking your live location).

In no time, weeks fly by and Wunderhorse drops their latest album. It’s the best thing you’ve experienced since sliced bread, an opinion Jisung shares as you two listen to it over call late one Friday night, speaking about your favourite songs amongst other things. You don’t know how it starts, perhaps it’s a lyric that sticks out to him that he mentions or something else entirely, but suddenly, you’re reminded of high school you. How deeply you wanted to be accepted by others, and how that satisfaction depended on the person you got it from. That you preferred conformity instead of individuality, because being seen with popular shallow kids meant something to you.

“I wasn’t a good person in high school,” you find yourself admitting, your body hollowed out with guilt. Regret like ash on your tongue. “I hurt people because I valued other people’s opinions over my own. I know I was young, but-”

“You said it yourself: you were young,” Jisung comments, the serious intent in his voice catching you off guard. “The fact you recognise your behaviour and feel remorse for it shows how much you’ve grown. I mean, high school can be very unforgiving because nobody really knows who they are or what the fuck they’re doing, so it’s only reasonably to make choices you may regret. What’s important, I think, is how you’ve chosen to move forward,”

“You said it yourself, you’ve apologised to those you hurt. Not many, if any person in your position, would do the same, which shows how much you genuinely care to make things right,” you sniff, vision blurring with tears of relief and sadness. “So, if you ask me, I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s all a learning curve, you were doing what was best to protect yourself then. And now, you’re a better and kinder person because of it.”

Another time you should’ve known you’d fallen for him. Yet, you remain none the wiser. All the way until concert day, getting off work early that Friday afternoon and making the journey down to the bright city lights of Seoul. Everything twinkles and dazzles, a 180 from your modest living in your hometown. You suppose your excitement for the concert has some role in this too, but considering the lack of vibrancy in your life, you allow yourself to sink your teeth into this. Feel the goosebumps against your skin, the lightness in your limbs and the uptake in your heartbeat.

You check into the hotel first since Jisung has a last-minute team meeting at work, setting yourself up on your side of the cosy room of wooden and white hues. As you slip on your Hello Kitty headband to do skincare, a knock rasps against the door, audible above the sound of your music.

With furrowed eyebrows, you approach the door, revealing a sight that stops your heart in its tracks.

On the other side of the door is who you should’ve expected: Jisung. What you don’t expect, however, is his sharp features, black smooth hair with matching formal clothing to contrast so beautifully with his porcelain skin. The dark, ocean blue contacts he wears with a pretty pink lip tint. Not to mention that beauty mark you’ve been thirsting over for the past few months? Yeah, that’s all in eye-view now, close enough to touch and it’s this fact that sends your brain into overdrive.

While you malfunction, Jisung dips his head, a large fist curled to his lips to hide his sheepish smile. Chuckles in a bit of an awkward and embarrassed way. 

Oh my god?!

“Nice to finally meet you,” he greets, black leather overnight bag clutched to his side. A fluffy blue and pink keychain of Little Twin Stars hangs off the zip, a cute juxtaposition to his intimidating outfit. And height. God, he really wasn’t lying when he said he was nearly 6 ft. 

“I texted you I’d arrived, but you hadn’t read them,”

A forceful blink out of your trance brings you back to reality, one where you’re not openly drooling over how handsome your internet best friend is. “Yeah, sorry. I was busy getting ready.”

“I figured so,” his eyes scan your clothes - your ripped baggy jeans, leather platform shoes amongst what you have on - and his lips curve, admiration in his eyes. “You look great.”

If there weren’t societal ideals of an inappropriate reaction to that compliment, you would’ve tattooed it to your forehead, or on your lower back. Maybe ripped off your shirt and kissed him before combusting because what do you mean, this very handsome man, thinks you look great?!

“Thank you,” you blush, your body running hot like a furnace. Even so, you decide to take advantage of the situation, leaning in for an embrace that he reciprocates as you mumble into his shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

The rest of the afternoon blurs, the few moments of scattered glances and awkward silence incomparable with the ease of conversation that flows between you once his favourite song, Poppy, comes on. Catching up to speed with each other’s day as you two get ready, it’s not lost on you how domestic the scene is - how familiar, or right it feels. Jisung, in all aspects of the word, is endearing - flustered by the compliments you send his way, brightening up at the new additions to the setlist and best of you, timid with pink cheeks when he hands over a ‘first meeting’ gift - an assortment of snacks, a Hello Kitty plushie and a card that makes you coo. It takes everything in you not to sink your teeth into him, overwhelmed by the sweetness that laces his actions and words, riding the high he and the music gives you as you make your way to the venue after you’re both finished.

Long lines snake around the arena, grey clouds permeating the area as rainfall clatters to the pavement. Jisung, ever so prepared, brings along an umbrella that you share, squeezing underneath so much you feel the warmth of Jisung through his bare, very defined bicep. How someone looks so good in a silver sequin top under a tattered sleeveless black vest is beyond you. Then again, him being single is beyond your comprehension too. Considering his calm and thoughtful demeanour, coupled with his good looks, you would’ve expected people lining up by the thousands to plead their case. However, whenever you two talked about this, he’d simply say his go-to phrase and change the topic, his phrase being:

“I’ve got my eye on someone. Just working up the courage to ask them out.”

Whoever managed to catch his eye, you’d thought to be lucky. Maybe they’d saved a small village in their past life because as people push when the doors open, Jisung shields you from any damage, reminding you how good of a romantic partner he could be. Especially so when you’re inside and he snaps all your photos, accompanying you to the bar and merch table where you get matching t-shirts before he keeps them with him so you’re free throughout the concert. Dimmed red lights and chatter fill the spacious hall, a flood of warm bodies surrounding you as you peer at the stage, the band all set up and ready to go come showtime. You sing along to the host of songs the venue plays beforehand, enough nudges in the shoulder to get Jisung to sing along and of course - of course - he has a beautiful voice too. At this point, you were convinced he either had a missing toe or had weird opinions about the order of cereal because the more you spent time with him, the more he shines in your eyes.

Eventually, the chatter dies down and all lights go off, screams rising through the crowd as Wunderhorse comes onto the stage. Buzzing at a frequency unheard of, you bounce off the balls of your feet, hand holding Jisung as you exclaim, “It’s them! It’s really them!”

Missing how flushed Jisung becomes at the contact, you sing with all your heart - offkey and all - to their opening song, Midas. The energy is through the roof, a dizzying world of flashing lights and music that retches the lyrics straight out of you. In a moment’s chance, Jisung and you turn to each other mid-song, smiles bright as the stage lights outline your damp faces, chest heaving with a mouthful of lyrics in their wake. It’s the happiest you’ve been, holding his hand like this, and as the night winds to simmer, you sway to slow songs and thank your lucky stars for finding your way back to this.

After the show, you two chatter with other adoring fans before trekking to your nearby hotel, stomachs growling for food. Jisung finds a great Chinese place that delivers until 2 am, a gesture you simper at, unaware he’d even remembered you’d liked the cuisine. At this point, you’re drained in the best possible way, a dull ache in your feet but riding a high of something you’ll remember forever. 

Now, you’re all up to speed. Great. Let’s get back to your current dilemma.

Somehow, someway, your unlaced and stubborn platform shoes cause a stumble, one that Jisung tries to save you from but ends up caught in the mix. How, you might ask? Well, you’re not entirely sure but what you definitely know is that you’ve fallen on one of the beds, Jisung’s body caging yours as he braces his own fall. Face-to-face. With you.

Ok.

You’re close enough to share a breath, within reach to see his long lashes and shaky pupils that dart from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. Suddenly, the room temperature dials to an unprecedented heat, walls closing in on you two as you lie in waiting. Waiting for the other to make their move. To lean in or pull away, heads or tails on a coin.

His phone rings, cutting through the tension-filled air with a knife. The moment, gone. 

“You okay?” he rasps, a knit in his eyebrows as if he’s holding himself back. You blink wordlessly, your answer in an absent nod. “I’ll, uhm…get the food.”

It’s not a suggestion, nothing that you can object to, particularly when he’s long gone and you’re clutching at your chest, months of infatuation knocking the breath out of you.

When Jisung returns minutes later, you’ve turned the TV on, preparing to fill the silence if need be. It proves necessary, only groans of pleasure and compliments to the chef shared between you two as you eat your weight in noodles. Not much is said when you’re getting ready for bed either, brushing your teeth together as if you're a couple and settling into separate beds, all the lights turned off.

Still reeling for the fall, and convinced his shallow breaths allude to his slumber, you’re startled by the call of your name, head turning towards Jisung beside you.

“Yes?”

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks before clearing his throat. “That was…some fall.”

You can say that again.

“I’m ok,” you lie. You’re on high alert, frazzled at every end with a heart you’ve just realised longs for the man not even two metres away from you. “Are you?”

Silence. The only feedback you hear is the crinkle of his duvet as he shuffles in his bed.

“Ask me another question.”

You turn to him, shrouded in darkness. “Like what?”

He doesn’t speak again, lets the silence devour the space between you before he says. “Ask me about the person I’m interested in.”

Water that rivals the arctic pours down your back, a harsh call to reality as you remember. Right, he has someone he’s interested in. Someone who he’ll devout his time to, listen to their music recommendations and hold their hands at concerts. And you? Well, you’ll still be friends, just not as close. Maybe not even friends at all.

The thought closes an iron fist around your heart.

“Why haven’t you asked them out?” is what you manage, because it’s on your mind - what time and place he’ll find himself in when he confesses his feelings.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, small and in a whisper. “Considering we met online, it’s kind of hard to gauge their interest or read any signs. You don’t give me much to work with,”

You still. “I don’t?’

“I mean, I haven’t been too obvious, but I’m crazy about you,” he confesses. “I love the light in your eyes and the kindness in your heart. You’re so deeply human and live life like it’s your first and last. There’s no one like you and I think the idea of knowing how special you are triggered my fear of rejection. Because what would my life be without watching festival performances drunk with you? What would it be if you didn’t laugh at my lame jokes and didn’t command my every thought?”

Jisung shuffles again, a flicker of dim light in between you two at a lamp source as he stares over at you, wholehearted and vulnerable. “It’d be an empty one - not worth living.”

Slowly, your body brings you upwards, the two of you hanging off the edges of your bed. So close if you’d reach out, your hands would touch. 

“When?” you croak, unable to meet his eyes. “When did you…start feeling this way?”

His eyes lower, a slight curve to the corner of his lips. “Around November?”

Electricity zaps your back straight. Five months ago? “When we joined the server?”

“Shortly after that,” he admits, a coy grin breaking out against his flushed features. “I was having a really hard day and you’d recommend a song in the chat, Favourite by Fontaines DC, and said how nostalgic and hopeful it felt to you. I gave it a listen and…it was like a battery in my back. I cried, but I also smiled too because I understood what you meant by it all,”

He threads his fingers together, peering up with shining eyes as he adds, “it felt like a peak into your soul, and mine too….I think that’s where it started.”

Your hand finally reaches out, overlaying his as tears fill your sight. “You know you’re my favourite, right?”

“No one stood a chance after that drunk video of you singing along to Champagne Supernova,” you share a laugh, reminiscing of the video he accidentally sent into the server one December night. A die-hard Oasis fan till the end. “I mean it. There’s no one I’d want to spend my days with, listen to music with and discover all there is to life. No one but you.”

His bottom lip gives a wobble, hands unearthing from yours as his thumb grazes your knuckles, bringing the hand up in a searing kiss. One he looks you right in the eyes for as he says, “Can we push the beds together please?”

You bark out an unexpected laugh, fondness shaping your smile as you speak with all of your heart. “I would love nothing more.”

[thebroccolination]

Hi Key, your post is the second I've seen that hinted at Joss but without further explanation. He generally has a positive public perception and I only know him from 3WBF (which I liked), so I'm curious where this shift in perception is coming from recently.

Would you mind making a post or directing me to where I can learn more about his general...situation.

I apologize if this is intrusive since I know you don't like to engage in Fandom Drama and like to keep your space positive, but I don't have XTwitter and his Tumblr tag is usually quite dead.

Thank you in advance!

Why I Don't Fuck with Joss: An Extremely Academic Essay of Words and Screenshots

Hi Anon!

I normally would have DM'd you an answer to this, but since you sent the ask anonymously and you were very kind in how you asked, I didn't want to ignore you.

However, two things:

I do generally make it a policy to keep my negative personal thoughts about certain actors to private conversations or, y'know, Discord servers, just to keep it off public platforms where toxicity is already rampant. In this case, though, I think the situation is interesting enough to comment on. (Plus, y'know, I'm amazed he was even managing a comeback when he's been known to Be Like This for years.)

I didn't get a lot of primary sources for this post because quite frankly I don't like Joss and I don't want to look at his face any more than I already have. However, friends who've been following this more closely than I have were able to verify that there are sources out there for everything I'm going to mention. Just, y'know, don't use me or this post as a source. This isn't one of my Citations Included Posts, this is just a Why I Don't Fuck with This Guy Post.

So, for context, I made this post last month, and someone made a more explicitly worded reblog here that's honestly better if you're going in without any context.

Essentially, Joss has had a dodgy reputation for years, but I think because fan turnover is high in interfandom and he's never been in a BL series before, most interfans just know Joss as A Tall Man Who Likes Sportsball.

But when I got into Thai BL back in 2020, Joss was one of the first actors I heard of as ~Problematique~ so I looked into him, and what I learned made me go, "Ew," so I just keenly ignored him from then on. (General gross stuff like the Domundi boob-grabbing prank and some assorted Dudebro comments about women. I don't remember specifics anymore because he was barely on my radar, but a friend at the time who'd been in fandom longer basically told me, "Yeah, that's Joss, lol.")

Interestingly, before JossGawin became a thing, most interfans were rooting for JossLuke, but I think given how vocally left-leaning Luke has proven to be, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke saw the prospect of tying his public reputation to Joss and went, "lol no goddamn thank you."

Gawin, on the other hand, seems to be down for whatever GMMTV wants him to do, so he probably just sees Joss as a colleague he makes out with (acting is a weird job). He went to high school in western Pennsylvania, he has white relatives on his dad's side, and he hangs out with the Gym Dudes of GMMTV, so I'm sure he's completely desensitized and is one of those guys who thinks, "Nah," but doesn't go so far as to say, "Not cool, dude." The Gawin Caskey Method seems to be: throw a basketball, make out with a dude on camera, go home and eat an edible. Dismount.

Unfortunately, even though Gawin's never really made any political statements or taken any major stand for the queer community, he's gained goodwill that some people are now calling into question because of Joss.

Anyway, apparently Joss used to follow Andrew Tate on Twitter until Tate was suspended, so it seems a lot of people assumed Joss unfollowed Tate, but yeah, between the sexist comments, Boobgate, and admiring Joe Rogan, that was enough for me to physically recoil from the screen when I saw the teaser for MGB.

Okay NOW, everything from this point onward is new stuff I've learned over the past month that made me go, "Oh. So he's worse now."

Joss has apparently had that Joe Rogan quote pinned to his Twitter account since 2020, but people just shrugged it off because they like his man stomach or something? (I don't find him attractive, but even if I did, I truly don't understand how he made it this far. It feels like he's been pretty firmly canceled every year since I got here, honestly.)

I also didn't like him weight-shaming Gawin. There's some older clip of him calling Gawin fat, and I know in Asia it's more common to comment on other people's bodies and weight, but I also recently found out that he got Gawin a meat cake for his birthday because idk actual cake is for pussies? (Sorry, Anon, I was trying to aim for an objective tone but I abandoned it because I reeeally don't like this man.) And apparently a lot of JG fanservice is just Joss and Gawin at the gym so Joss can teach Gawin self-control or something? I've had their tag blocked from the beginning, so you'll have to look into that if you're curious.

Ah, and at some point in the last few months, Joss was apparently asked what his "type" is and he said something like "white, skinny English-speaking Europeans/Americans"(?) Which apparently made Asian women go, "Hey, c'mere real quick: good. Bye."

I also thought it was a huge red flag that Joss has been in the industry for years, and his domestic fanbase is still quite small. Others have pointed out that very few fan interactions with him are in Thai, and he's clearly courting a western audience both in his individual engagement and by partnering with a mixed American actor. When he did the LGBTQ+ panel last summer, apparently the reaction from Thai commenters was, "lmao why Joss?" not, "Oh yes, of course, Joss!"

So it seems like GMMTV has been trying to do a rebrand for Joss using Gawin and interfans more generally since Joss speaks English and interfans don't generally seek out the resources to do research. Remember last year when GMMTV announced that Y-MIND script competition? It was originally domestic only, but after Thai fans overwhelmingly went, "The contract terms here are wildly exploitative, so fuck off," GMMTV rereleased the promotional material in English and went, "HEY INTERFANS WANNA SEND US STUFF :D?"

That told me they really don't think especially highly of us.

On December 15th, someone pointed out that Joss didn't just follow Trump on Twitter, he also followed a ton of extreme alt-right accounts on Instagram. Not normal political figures, either. Obscure figures like Pearl, Candace Owens, that guy who was saying Your Body My Choice, and Andrew Tate's right-hand man, and more! Some of his fans tried to point out that he follows progressive Thai politicians, but as far as the American side, he only followed alt-right conservative accounts with zero liberal accounts.

Though, in fairness, someone did point out that Joss also follows famous progressive Democratic figures [checks notes] comedian Chris Rock and basketball player Stephen Curry.

So. Whoohoo for that, amirite?

Since Joss's fans weren't having much success defending him on their own, they threw some @'s at his account to get him to make some kind of statement that would somehow explain away why he was following a deep, deep alt-right fanatic like Pearl. (Spoiler: He didn't.)

The JossGawin International fan club even released the above statement to address the issue, then received such alarmingly vitriolic backlash from the JossGawin fandom for "betraying" Joss that the fanclub decided to deactivate entirely. (I have no idea if they reactivated or not, since I stopped keeping up with this whole debacle shortly afterward.)

One Thai(?) JossGawin fan actually seems to have used ChatGPT to create an English comment to chastise the fanclub for their lack of support in Joss's dire times:

Amusingly, rather than address his fans' concerns or unfollow any of the accounts causing the chaos, Joss instead just started deleting any comment on his Instagram that called on him to comment.

Five days later, he unfollowed 137 accounts. No idea how many of those were alt-right extremists and how many were just extra padding to make it look like a general cleanse, but it was at least fifty last I heard, and the fact that 1) it took him nearly a week to do anything but delete the comments calling him out, and 2) his first tweet after this whole mess was a quote-retweet of GMMTV's message welcoming Barcode into the company saying, "lol this kid looks like if me and Gawin had a baby" just goes to show how unthreatened he feels.

After all, Joss has been this way for years, and his upcoming series with Gawin is probably going to do numbers regardless. He's successfully rebuilt his stagnant career off the support of interfans, and he knows he'll be fine.

Even Foei has a show with Tay! We're all good here. \:D/

So yeah! That's why I don't fuck with Joss. \:D/

This'll be the last I say on Joss publicly.

I just figured I'd make one all-encompassing post so I can link back to this in case anyone asks why I'm not supporting any of Gawin's projects with Joss. It's a shame because I do really like Gawin, but this isn't even a hard choice for me to make.

Oh, and while we're on the subject: the director of MGB, Ark, is also Not a Good Dude by all accounts I've heard from multiple people who've interacted with him privately. I mean, he sure is queer, but he's also said to be a misogynist with some white-people-worshipping tendencies. He doesn't have the highest opinion of BL fandom in general, either, especially when you look back on his whole direction of IT'S NOT A BL Shadow. Just, y'know, another reminder that queer people aren't Virtuous or Evil by nature. We're a big ole clusterfuck of nuance, so you don't have to support MGB for Ark just because he's a queer man. I have zero proof that I can share publicly, so you don't have to take my word for it. Just, y'know, in case you were on the fence, I've heard he's a dick.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write absolutely filthy gay porn to purify myself from writing Joss's name so many times.

[transmutationisms]

hi, i was reading ur other posts and got from it that u might be a professor? i was wondering what it is you studied & ur thoughts on academia & entering it.

i'm a doctoral candidate in history so i can't speak much to stem fields and i haven't yet had to properly face the academic job market. you might be interested in some of the posts in my tagged/academia

academic work occupies a slightly odd place in a lot of public discourse because on the one hand there are many people who configure it on ideal terms as a force of enlightenment, social improvement, and self-actualisation for both student and professor. on the other hand there are those within academia (or, often, recently exiled from it) who went in with those sorts of high-minded expectations, had their dreams shattered, and now portray academic labour as uniquely or excessively exploited, monetised, and exhausting. in regards to the first group i would respond that academics work for institutions that exist to enforce hegemonic power structures; to uphold class hierarchies and the illusion of meritocratic social mobility; and to profit from the restriction of access to knowledge and debate. in regards to the second group i would say that academics are exploited by the same labour relations as any other workers in a capitalist system; that we, like all other workers, should be agitating for liberation not just for ourselves; and that this means the abolition of the university as the institution that we now know, as well as the class barriers it erects and enforces.

i can't really tell anyone whether they should go into academia or not. certainly there are things i like about it: for one, i do feel a sense that i 'get' to spend a lot of my working time reading and writing about things that i find genuinely interesting and that i think are valuable to share and study. the material benefits of having a white-collar / desk job are also real.

however, it is also true that academic jobs involve affiliations with institutions that are by nature capitalist, colonialist, exclusionary & élitist; and that the degree of security and financial stability you get from these jobs will vary widely between fields and positions (the vast majority of people who earn a phd will never become tenured professors). teaching and research are really two different jobs often bundled into one, and each presenting their own challenges. many of the things that suck about academia suck about work in general: interpersonal abuse is rife in academia and both created and enabled by its hierarchical nature and reliance on networking; it's virtually impossible to get any accommodations if you are disabled; unis are hostile to marginalised people and groups both internally and externally; you may not like your research, or even find what you do all day to be pointless, useless, or meaningless; if you have any kind of genuinely communist commitments then these will always and inherently be at odds with the institution you now rely on to survive, and that conflict continually stymies the production of radical and revolutionary theory and scholarship.

ultimately academic jobs are jobs, with all of the exploitation and baggage that entails. i think there are people who have produced, or are producing, work that is genuinely valuable, insightful, incisive, and so forth, from within the university. however, that's not what the institution is there for, it's something you have to constantly fight for and for which you may very well be professionally punished, and you should never let anyone tell you the university is the only path, or even a cooperative or altruistic path, toward doing such work, if that's what you want to do.

[phatm0th]

Archie the Painslut

18+

heyy so i recently started the show The Great on hulu and even though i haven’t finished it yet (not even on season three yet) i really wanted to write about Archie. This was meant to be much shorter but i kept coming up with new ideas and it snowballed into this.

this is a plus size reader fic because im plus size and i say there aren’t enough of those out there. this is like, the second fic ive ever shared with the first one being on ao3. (i’ll post this one on ao3 soon) i feel like it could’ve been better but im still quite happy with the results. hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

tags: plus size!reader, priest kink, femdom, overstimulation, oral sex, nuns, riding, slapping, choking

You were enjoying your gig as a nun in the empress’s court so far. A month prior, Russia’s new ruler sent out a pamphlet encouraging women to join the church. Other parts of the world required quite a bit of work for a woman to become a nun, but this was Russia. You jumped at the opportunity, not wanting to be married off to one of the men in your village. All you had was a brief interview with Catherine The Great herself and secured your position as a nun. You truly enjoyed it, too. Food was nice, you had made a few friends, and it was quite a simple job. Celibacy got a little difficult, but self pleasure always helped. There was one thing though, one man, rather, that annoyed you to your core.

Well, most men of the court annoyed you, always either undressing you with their eyes or making jokes about your size. This particular man annoyed you in another way, though. Archie, the patriarch of Russia, wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. He regularly interacted with other members of the clergy, but you might as well have been invisible to him. He seemed pretty high strung the first time you met him. He offered you a curt, “Hello, pleasure to serve the lord with you,” or something, and not much else. When you passed in the halls, he looked straight ahead. If there was a risk of brushing up against you, he would walk in the opposite direction. There were plenty of people in the court that didn’t interact with you and you didn’t give a shit. The truth was, you really, really wanted him.

One night, at a party, you saw your friend, Marial, drinking and speaking with someone you couldn’t see. She saw you walking towards her and beckoned you forward, smiling. “There’s my favorite nun! Are you enjoying yourself?” she greeted. You nodded, slightly tipsy. Then you noticed, directly to Marial’s left was a stone cold sober Archie. “Oh. Hello Archie,” you mumbled. He stood up abruptly, “Hello. Must go,” he said, then quickly walked off. You sighed heavily, and plopped down onto the spot he was sitting. “What’s his fucking problem with me? You know, he’s barely said a word to me since I got here!” you slurred. Marial smirked and asked, “Is it not obvious?” She paused and stared at you as if waiting for you to give her your best guess. You lifted your shoulders in confusion. “He wants to fuck you!” she said with a laugh. “Very funny jape, Marial,” you lightly elbowed her. Her face became as serious as you had ever seen it. “I’m serious! And it is quite fucking obvious,” she gestured with her hand holding a drink to Archie, stood in a dark corner by himself, staring at you intensely. You locked eyes for a brief moment then he left his corner, disappearing into the crowd of drunk nobles.

Marial confided one other thing in you regarding Archie before the party ended. That being, he was very easy to tempt. He was slipping into his “old ways”, she said. And the only way he prevented himself from fucking his way through 70% of the court was self-flagellation. With that information, you hatched a plan.

Your plan commenced the very next morning and you woke much earlier than usual, hoping to catch him before the court grounds filled with people. On some mornings, Archie would have his too small breakfast in the garden on a bench. You managed to get your hands on an especially juicy peach, and you followed Archie to his place in the garden, careful to not be discovered. You waited a few moments for him to get comfortable and take a few bites of his food. “Beautiful day, Archie!” you said as you walked towards him. He choked on a mouthful of slightly burnt and very under-seasoned eggs. He swallowed thickly, trying to regain his composure. “Yes. As all things made by God are. Must you be so… energetic?” the irritation in his voice was apparent, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes drank you in, looking up and down your curvaceous form. You brought one arm up under your breasts, lifting them in a way you hoped was subtle but still seductive. You rested the other arm on top of that and brought the juicy peach to your lips.

“Do you like peaches, Archie?”

Before he could reply, you took a large bite of it, sighing in satisfaction as if it was the best peach you’d ever eaten. (it was) A bit of juice from it ran down your chin and onto your large breasts, staining your habit. Archie averted his eyes from your body, focused entirely on his food. You tossed the peach aside. “Oh, I have to do something about the mess I made,” you said, feigning concern. “Enjoy your morning!” You walked off, swaying your hips much more than necessary.

Phase two of your plan was to occur that afternoon. You watched Archie’s every move for the second time that day, and found yourself lying in wait like a predator hunting its prey. You stuck your head out of an empty room watching Archie walk down the hallway with one of his notebooks in hand. You waited until he got close enough and rushed right into him, “accidentally” knocking his notebook out of his hand. Several sheets of paper spilled out, one landing right under an end table next to the both of you. “I’m so sorry, Archie! Let me get that for you!” You got down on your hands and knees and arched your back, sticking your ass out as you reached under the table. You collected all the papers that had fallen around his feet and picked those up too, then presented them to him, still on your knees and staring up at him through your eyelashes. He shuddered quite violently and let out a harsh breath. Without a word, he snatched the papers from you and quickly walked off.

The third and final phase of your plan was that same evening. Catherine had planned a celebratory dinner for one successful month of introducing nuns in her court. You got there as early as possible, securing your seat right next to Archie. Before dinner began, Archie said a prayer to bless the food and you looked up at him from your seat, squeezing your thick thighs together. It was both meant to tease him and provide yourself with some much needed relief. You weren’t entirely sure if your plan would even work, but just the thought of finally fucking him was enough to make you wet and needy. He noticed and began stumbling over his words, clearing his throat. He managed to get through it though, and sat back down. A few minutes into the dinner, you rubbed your leg against Archie, lifting his robes slightly. He stopped eating and looked at you with a pathetic look in his eyes. He opened his mouth shakily but before he could say anything you stood up quickly and excused yourself from the table. Nobody seemed to give a fuck as everyone continued eating and having their hushed conversations. The only one that seemed to notice you spoke at all was Marial, giving you a knowing look.

You made your way to a completely empty room pretending to look busy with a vase of flowers. You were counting on Archie following you into it, but after a few minutes of waiting, you were beginning to believe he wouldn’t show. Maybe you should’ve explicitly said what you wanted. Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to you. Maybe he just really wanted to stay celibate. As your mind wandered, you didn’t notice the door close behind you.

You felt his presence when he was just a few inches behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders then slowly moved them to your tits as he started kneading them through your habit. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered harshly. Any other man would’ve gotten stabbed right in his cock for such a bold move but a wave of heat overtook you as you felt his breath hot against your ear. He sank his long fingers into your thick waist and gripped you roughly. You hoped it would bruise.

“Fucking finally, Archie.” You grabbed his forearms and ground your wide hips back onto his clothed, impossibly hard cock.

He started licking your ear and panting like a fucking dog. But before you could really get started you heard the empress call his name, likely wondering why he had disappeared from the dinner.

His perfect hands stopped groping you and he gasped as if waking from a trance. “This cannot happen!” he hissed, quickly prying himself from you. “Disgusting!” Before you could reply, he left you in the empty room. You weren’t sure if he was disgusted with himself or with you.

The next day was slow. You slept past breakfast and when you finally emerged from the bedroom you shared with another nun, the first thing you heard was some guard joking about you finally going on a diet. Any other day you would’ve had a comeback. Or a slap. Nothing today, though. You couldn’t even give him a dirty look. You just walked off.

You roamed the grounds, trying to find something to keep yourself busy but you to no avail. Archie found you disgusting. You faced rejection before but nothing ever stung this badly. Maybe it was because you had your hopes up this time? Marial herself told you how he felt about you, and she knew him better than anyone else did. Marial saw you walking alone, eyes downcast. She looked concerned as she walked towards you. You noticed and quickly walked off randomly turning corners of the palace until you believed you lost her.

You stood still, trying to catch your breath when you heard something strange. A shaky groan, muffled by the door you were standing in front of. Archie’s door. You held your breath and listened hard, thinking it might’ve been a groan of pain. He panted heavily, and let out a strained exhale of your name. You acted on impulse and discreetly opened the door.

There sat Archie at his desk, chair turned to the side so he could stretch out his legs. Cock in one hand, and a peach with one bite taken out of it in the other. He didn’t even notice you when he brought the peach to his mouth, licking into it as if it were a wet cunt. You thought he must’ve swiped it right after you tossed it yesterday.

A wave of heat overtook you and you slammed the door behind you and locked it. “I thought you found me disgusting,” you said, voice even. Archie jumped violently, but notably did not let go of himself. He looked at you guiltily and gave his cock a tight squeeze. His chest heaved as he worked his mouth, trying to speak. “It - it was not you I was disgusted with. It was me. I should not give in to my urges so easily, but every time I am around you I cannot control myself!” his voice rose on that last sentence as he broke away from your gaze, staring at the floor.

“Archie…” You didn’t know what to say. You decided instead that words wouldn’t be very effective anyway and decided to walk towards him. Your breasts heaved as you tried to even your breathing. You had never been this horny before, not even yesterday when you had Archie pressed against you. Before you realized it, you were looming directly above him, watching him subtly pulse his fist on his cock. Archie said, “As the patriarch, I really should not-“ SMACK. He let out a startled noise as your hand made a quickly brightening red mark on his face.

He looked up at you, panting, mouth agape as he wrenched his hand away from his cock. He dug his fingertips into the arms of his chair and furrowed his brow. You were worried you had taken it too far before he shot up out of his seat and pushed you backwards against the nearest wall. He gave you no time to speak - not that you were complaining - as he pressed his lips against yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and you savored the taste of each other. You felt one of his long legs jam its way in between your thick thighs. He ground his leg onto your clothed pussy, feeling your wetness through three layers of clothing. His hands roamed every inch of you he could reach without breaking away from the kiss, as if he was trying to commit your shape to memory. You buried a fist in his long hair, yanking his head away from yours. He moaned harshly and dropped to his knees rather violently. His hands caressed your calves as he inched his nose closer and closer to your heat. He buried his face between your thighs, almost suffocating himself as he sniffed you through the thick fabric of your habit.

You pushed his head back and lifted the hem of the habit to your mouth, unwilling to wait another second. He gasped harshly and shook as he finally got a full view of what he had been fantasizing about for weeks. He lunged forward and sank his fingers into your plush thighs, trying to pull them apart so he could have his fill. He kissed your mons first, savoring the feel of the hair against his lips. He pushed his head even further, licking and biting at your already wet inner thighs like a man starved. You supposed he was starved in that regard. As much as you enjoyed his exploration of your lower half, he wasn’t licking where you needed it the most, and you were starting to get desperate. You decided to take matters into your own hands - there’d be time for his perverted licking and sniffing another day. “Archie!” you said with the fabric still clenched between your teeth. You roughly grabbed his hair and angled his head exactly where you wanted it. His mouth was right against your clit and he immediately put it to good use, licking one slow stripe along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You heaved a breath of relief as he finally, finally started giving you what you needed. Archie moaned as he sucked your clit, the vibrations only doubling your pleasure. “It feels so good to finally give in, right Archie?” He pulled back to reply but you roughly shoved his face back where it belonged. He made a sound between a gasp and a whimper before going right back to servicing you. He moved his tongue from your clit to your pussy. His nose bumped your clit each time he moved his head, making you feel better than you thought possible. Your hips bucked, and you curled your fingers in his hair once again, trying to ground yourself.

After a bit of tonguefucking you, he replaced his tongue with one of his long, perfect fingers, and his mouth took its rightful place against your clit yet again. Pleasure shot through you like lightning as you felt his finger brush up against something you hadn’t known was there before. His assault on your gspot in combination with his relentless sucking of your clit made you dizzy almost. The sight of him almost made you cum. On his knees, one hand wrapped around his long cock and the other pleasuring you. His eyes were closed in bliss as he devoured you. You gripped his hair, forcing his head still as you ground your hips into his face. His eyes shot open and met yours. They were watery, and dilated. He somehow looked completely serene, but enraptured at the same time.

You had seen that look only once before. You followed him into the woods one day and watched him eat a berry. You watched him talk to God, watched him partake in the purest, most sacred form of worship he knew.

That was it. Once the realization dawned on you, you were cumming all over his hand and face before you knew it. You were loud and shaky, the hem of the robes shoved in your mouth did very little to muffle your voice. You pulled his hair so hard he was sure to have a headache in a few hours. He let out a few short grunts himself, eyes rolled into the back of his head and the hand on his cock finally stilled.

You let go of his hair and managed to relax the tense muscles in your body. He stood up on shaky legs, eyes wide as he watched you collect yourself. When your vision finally cleared you saw that he was still hard. “What the fuck?” you asked, panting. “I still want to fuck you. It took a great deal of effort to not cum just then but I managed to stave it off. I wanted to save it for something special.” You were still buzzing with oversensitivity, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to fuck him too.

You both made your way into his more than humble bedroom and you were finally able to take off your now dirty clothes. You faced each other, just admiring each other’s bodies for a few moments. You were finally able to take a good look at his cock. It was long and leaky, protruding around 7.5 inches from his skinny frame. Archie himself looked almost frightening. His head was tilted slightly downward, pupils blown, chest heaving from excitement. (?) He wore a wide grin as he drank you in, eyes lingering on your tits. You almost wanted to ask him if he was okay, but then he embraced you, jamming his tongue in your mouth and groping you yet again. He broke the kiss just as fast as he started it, saying, “I want you on top. Please.”

Archie was much taller than you, but you weren’t sure how strong he was. What if you hurt him?

Oh. Right.

You lightly pushed his chest, encouraging him to get on his bed. He quickly sat on the bed and you followed, climbing into his lap. You stood on your knees, slightly towering over him as you leaned down to kiss him again. “Sit,” he all but demanded. You could not deny him. And you were eager to see his reaction to your weight on top of him.

You sat in his lap, finally resting your weight on top of him in the way he’d been so eager for since he first laid eyes on you. Well, not quite. He wanted you on his face, but he was too eager to fuck you, so this would have to do. He placed his hands on your ass, kneading the cheeks apart, admiring your softness. You moaned and ground down onto his cock impatiently. Archie wouldn’t budge, too focused on kissing you and feeling you up. You lifted your hips, much to his chagrin, to guide his cock inside your eager cunt yourself. He let out a harsh exhale as if he had been punched in the gut. You breathed shakily, surprised at yourself for taking all of him at once like that.

Archie buried his face into your neck, whimpering. You didn’t move just yet, trying to adjust to the stretch of him. You occasionally clenched, liking the effect it had on a desperate Archie. You were ready to move after a bit, and you lifted your hips just once to test the waters, pulling him out almost completely before slamming back down onto his lap. You leaned back so you could get a good look at his face as you began grinding yourself on his cock. He was biting his bottom lip so hard he drew a bit of blood. His eyes rolled back in his head as shaky, high-pitched noises escaped him.

“Archie,” you said, an idea forming. He didn’t notice. “Archie.” you said again. Your hips stilled, and that seemed to rouse him from whatever high he was chasing, but then you slapped him. Hard. To make sure he was paying attention. You felt him throb inside you. “What?” he asked, confused as to why you had stopped moving, but grateful for the slap. “Do you want me to hurt you?” you asked, hand still lingering on his cheek. He throbbed again. “Yes. I will not last long.” Neither would you. You slapped him again, enjoying it almost as much as he was. “Lay down then,” you said as you rose off him.

He guided himself back into your wet heat as he laid flat on his back. His hands made their way to your lower back as you immediately began riding him again. You wanted to slap him again but decided instead to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling his head back onto the under-stuffed pillow it rested on. “Ooooh,” he moaned weakly, enjoying the dull burn in his scalp. “Open your mouth,” you demanded. He obeyed, sticking his tongue out for good measure. You spat in his mouth and he swallowed gratefully. You moved both of your hands to his chest and scraped your nails across it. “Yes!” Archie shouted. You pinched his nipples roughly, twisting and flicking them. Archie’s legs shook and he dug his nails into your lower back as he moaned. You liked the sting of it more than you thought you would, and your orgasm was approaching quickly.

You decided you wanted him to cum first. You rose your hips and slammed them down harder than necessary, feeling his balls and thighs slap against your ass loudly. He gasped, startled by the change in pace. “Close!” he shouted. Your right hand shot to his neck, closing off his airflow as you moved at a punishing pace. All Archie could manage like this was “c- c- c-“ You assumed he was trying to say “cumming,” as his entire body became stiff. You felt him pulse inside you a few times, each pulse followed by a spurt of cum.

Your hand around his neck loosened. You stopped moving your hips. He gasped for breath, savoring every bit of air that made it into his lungs. After he was breathing normally, you angled your hips so that his cock would hit your gspot on each stroke, and began riding him again at your relentless pace. The air he had just gotten back was knocked out of his lungs as he gasped from oversensitivity. You watched him writhe, unsure if he wanted to get away from you or drive himself even deeper. High, undignified noises left his mouth as you overstimulated him. Your orgasm hit you suddenly, and began grinding into him again, enjoying the feel of his pubic bone grinding against your clit. He laughed madly as he watched you take your pleasure from him, uncaring of his pain.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as you collapsed next to him. You were both sweaty and in need of baths, but that could wait until later. You stared at the ceiling, wondering what to do next in regard to Archie. You turned to face him and saw that he was staring at you intensely as if he saw God himself, and all his infinite love and wisdom, in you.

[jumpscaregoose]

leans casually on the wall. hi. if possibly could i know about the theories you have rn for the rtl groups trap reactions….👁️👁️

I can give you like.... 75% of one??? I guess???

I've been staring at kenta's character page for the past 40+ minutes trying to figure out what his deal is and I thinkkkkkkk I might be on to something? I've got nothing for anyone else this little shit is my area of expertise

mostly I've been staring at these bad boys

the meanings of the first and last ones is pretty easy to figure out, "a dangerous mind" is probably referring to his programming skills/being a little bitch and "what kind of a joke is trust" obviously means his cynical attitude towards interpersonal relationships

such as this line from the opening show look at me point proof explanationing

"hands that pulled away" is interesting though

I'll include that the google-translated version of the official website lists these for the tags in english

and while the dog pun in "unleashed hands" does not escape me, I feel like "hands that pulled away" is probably more accurate (and is more interesting)

to me, the easiest way to interpret these tags together is as a chain of causality, with "a dangerous brain" causing "hands that pulled away" causing "what kind of a joke is trust"

translating that out of nonsense talk, I'm imagining that kenta's trust and interpersonal issues were caused by someone, either a caregiver or circle of peers, "pulling away" from him in response to his "dangerous brain"

we can actually verify this, or a similar event, through the timeline:

specifically, this entry:

it's clear that this event was what led him to take up programming, and that his opinions on other people were mostly solidified by age 8 (although the exact nature of the virus he created is vague, it's easy to assume it wasn't one you'd make while worrying about other people. we've all recently seen what massive international tech issues can do)

this is the most concrete theory I can think of based on the information available but while I have your captive attention I'd like to pose a similar question-

-when the HELL did he get his phantometal?

this was where my train of thought went after staring at that webpage for so long

certainly, there's no way he received it before entering the prison system. it does make sense that phantometal would be circling within prisons, especially considering how... weird the one we see is.

again this is where MORE DETAILS would be appreciated, GCREST/AVEX

mostly, I propose a chicken-and-egg problem: do you obtain phantometal from succeeding in prison rap, or do you succeed in prison rap because you have phantometal?

also, the exact timeline of prison rap rankings is. nonexistent. HOWEVER, we can again use the timeline to make inferences. it's mentioned that he begins posting tracks online at age 13. given how the prison operates (and the tidbits I know about real life) it's highly unlikely he would have access to a computer for long enough periods to produce and upload music without the preferential treatment given to those at the top of prison rap. therefore, I posit that this prison rap success occurred around age 13.

we also know that possessing phantometal was a qualifying requirement for participation in rtl, so this narrows down our timeline ever so slightly

in my mind, the most likely circumstances for kenta to acquire his phantometal are the chicken-and-egg solutions from above, which places the final date near the one we established for prison rap, around age 13

I have a few ideas as to how he got it, but I'm gonna keep those under wraps for future evil purposes

but that's just a theory

a-

no I'm not doing it it's too easy

and cut

[griseldabanks]

20 Questions for the Writer

Tagged by @rainintheevening

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

131

2. What is your total Ao3 word count?

822,681

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Captain America/MCU and FMA these days, but I also have fics on AO3 for Daredevil, Dororo, Star Wars, Supernatural, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Make Me Whole (Captain America), Back from the Brink (Dororo), of skulls and secrets (FMA), Shards of Me (Captain America), and Your Arms Feel Like Home (Captain America)

Still boggles my mind every time I realize my second-most kudoed fic is the random Dororo fic I wrote for a Christmas present one year @_@

5. Do you respond to comments?

I make a point to reply to every comment I can! ^_^ I just really want to share my stories with other people and talk to them about them!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm...of the ones posted on AO3, I'm not sure. Maybe "Rejected?" It's an FMA fic where Ed gives up his life to bring Al's body back, so that's pretty angsty ^^'

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty hard to beat the ending of Make Me Whole ;) Reunions of old friends, heartfelt confessions, sobbing on each other's shoulders, followed by an overjoyed birthday celebration! The "epilogue" of sorts of Shards of Me might be even happier, though, because you get to see how good things turn out for them a few years down the road <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I have on AO3. I did very occasionally on FFNet (mostly from one particularly weird guy who had other issues besides the quality of my fics).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I love the kind of crossover where, rather than characters from different stories meeting each other, you just replace the characters from one story with the characters from another. My most recent, a FMA/Firefly crossover, is coming to mind - FMA characters replace the Firefly characters and go through the same basic plot as the first episode of Firefly. Another one I'm really proud of is "All We've Got to the End of the Line," where I put the Elric brothers in Steve and Bucky's position, and vice versa.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Years ago, there was one fic of mine that got translated into Spanish, I think.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, though unfortunately most of the co-written fics I've worked on have not gotten finished before the relationship fell apart :/

But a huge shout-out to @sergeanttomycaptain, who helped me brainstorm my Whole Shards series and even wrote large chunks of it herself, though she's not "officially" a co-writer.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My longest running OTP is Royai <3 I'll always love them and what the understated subtlety of their relationship has taught me. A very honorable mention goes to Staron - though admittedly, a lot of the stuff I love most is stuff I had to come up with myself because of how the canon ruined Sharon's character -_-

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Years ago, I started writing a Haibane Renmei fic with a full cast of OCs, just because I wanted to explore that world more and try my hand at writing a story even halfway as uplifting and wholesome as that. Unfortunately, there was never really any plot to speak of, so while I really like the characters I came up with, I have no idea where to go with it, and probably never will because I have too many stories to write that I do know what I want to do with. Alas, Kabe the Sin-Bound Haibane will probably be consigned to the dust forever.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at writing endings, and judging from people's reactions, I'm pretty good at making people cry! But like...in a healing/comforting sort of way. I also think I have the strength of tenacity (or stubbornness, if you'd rather), to finish what I set out to do even if it takes a really long time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fights/action scenes. Intentional humor. Differentiating dialogue/thoughts so it really sounds like the character.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm always paranoid about doing that, even if I have a decent enough grasp of the language that I'm completely sure I know what they're saying ^^' But then, I'm the kind of person who will write something in English, my native tongue, and then second-guess whether that's actually the way to say it or whether I sound like an idiot. I'm trying to loosen up about such things, though, because more diversity in a fic makes it more fun.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy X. I started writing a novelization of the game before I even knew what I was doing was fanfiction!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Ohhhh, that's really hard to narrow down. But one of the fics that's nearest and dearest to my heart is the fic I'm currently in the process of posting, Take Me In. Please consider reading it if you like Captain America!

Tagging @dairogo, @x-i-l-verify, and @x-rainflame-x if you'd like to do this!

[diaphin93]

Damn, thats racist Episode V: M'Lady Bübche knibbelt Retour

You all now, I originally I didn't reblogg because I wanted to comment without engaging in an argument with some reddit coded white knight, who makes his entire identity being obsessively hateful towards the only queer and only female Lord of the game whose entire deal is wanting to abolish feudalism and divine rule.

Now on the other hand, I'm doing it because it became instantly super fun, knowing that it obviously pisses him off. Also I'm doing him a favor by not doing that on Twitter. Like, I had my fair share of over the top edgy takes and bad jokes here on Tumblr, after which I took a pause from it and now decided to make this the site where I'm on my good behavior. I'm a good girl now here. Twitter on the other hand? Ever since Elon took it over, I really don't give a shit about my account there, so thats where I go all out with little fucks to spare, so I really would have gone all out with the M'Lady Fedora chud jokes. It would have been super funny.

And yeah, I don't believe his fake moral outrage, thats literally after I told him how shitty the implications of him justifying Faerghus stealing all the fertile lands of Sreng and forcing them into a frozen desert were, especially in our current day and age. Should I have done it? In retrospect probably not immediately, but he really doubles down and decides tha thet validity of faerghian colonialism, because Faerghus has a right to defend itself, is the hill he wants to die on.

Also he is still all about how brown people lie about racism in his video games, because there is no way that a medieval catholic coded church lead by whiter than white dragon people who view humanity in its entirety as inheritly lesser creatures could ever be xenophobic, lol.

Finally, I still don't know what this deal with this Moonlitboar person was, the only thing I know is that he allegedly said something shitty, got backlash and pissed off afterwards? While...you know...meanwhile Edelgard fans constantly receive targeted harassment, like a fanfiction author being bullied off of social media and even a fanartist getting harassed during a convention recently, and there is constant bait and harassment post in the Edelgard positive tag, not to forget this guy tagging Edelgard even when his posts don't have anything to do with her.

All in all, I get the slight suspicion that this guy is not just a clown. He is the entire Margrave Matthias Raoul Gautier.

[chaikachi]

I appreciate you so much for being loud about rg, despite all the unnecessary hostility this ship gets on a daily basis ❤️, it's my comfort ship and these two dorks literally makes me so happy 💕

Awee of course!!! 🥺💕 This ship means the world to me and I don't know how to be quiet about it these days even if I tried, as evidenced by the fact this answer turned into a whole essay somehow uwu

V8 was when i first really joined the fandom/RG and it was rough. I was scared to admit I shipped it romantically for the longest time because of all the discourse/harassment and I know I am very much not alone in that feeling. For the longest time I was scared to even draw them kissing lest it incite something. But ffs I'm over it. This ship is cute as hell, has so much going for it in canon, and so much creative potential in fanon. I love analyzing their story and somehow still discovering old crumbs even after all this time. Not to mention all the new crumbs this volume has given us!! Feels more like a whole loaf of freshly baked bread than anything else!

Every single argument I've ever seen thrown against the ship in the last 2+ years has been made in bad faith, is a double standard not applied to other ships, or is easily debunkable. Some of the loudest RG antis have a terrible reputation even outside of our 'ship wars', and it actually become so easy to not notice or let it get to you when you block without remorse.

I can't really speak for tumblr as I've gotten not-so-good at interacting with people here recently and feel a bit disconnected from the community (aside from the stray asks/tags y'all send me which I always appreciate 💕). But I know on twitter we've had a handful of new artists and vocal shippers come out of the woodwork in light of the new volume that are flooding the tag with positivity, memes, and creations every day. I've seen multiple rival shippers admit that they have to 'prepare for when rg is canon' and they genuinely believe it. We've even got a few bigger RWBY youtubers standing up for us and shutting down that discourse when people try to stir the pot.

Also numbers aren't really indicative of anything on tumblr when reblogs are more scarce than ever, or on twitter where the algorithm is anyone's guess, but there are some rosegarden posts on this site from 2017 that hit over 4k notes. Some of my own rg pieces on other platforms breach 1-2k. Heck, even some of the metas that I have cross posted to twt have hit more than 600 likes.

There are so many rg shippers out there. And what I am seeing with v9 is a few things. First, any people joining the fandom anew that aren't aware of all the discourse fall into RG pretty easily without that bias being pushed on them.

And second, that when we are loud and we are enthusiastic and we are kind to each other... when we foster healthy and approachable community, that is how we tune out all the negativity, and that is when we have the most fun.

So i'm glad you appreciate all my yelling, and I am not trying to pressure anyone into speaking out or participating if they don't have it in them... but this is a very friendly reminder is always room for more of us out here 💕🌹🌲

[benevolenterrancy]

Fic author interview!

Thanks for tagging me @morporkian-cryptid I'm taking a leaf out of your book and being a bit late responding, oops ;;; (also, like my last one, posting this on my art/writing blog despite getting tagged on my other blog :P)

@meso-mijali @rose-of-pollux @yarrayora @sorrel-scribbles @auxiliarydetective @pazithigallifreya

1 How many works do you have on AO3?

76!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

667,467 apparently, which feels like way more than I expected. Then again, I also didn't expect to have seventy six fics on there either...

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lost In Translation (7,256 kudos) An Overwatch fic. I was baffled when it did as well as it did while I was actively posting it and frankly I'm not sure how to deal with the fact that it's still head and shoulders above every other fic I've written. I think it must be from people sorting by kudos and creating a weird positive feedback loop.

How To Torment Cats (And Witchers) (2,124 kudoes) A very light-hearted Witcher one-shot with Ciri and Dandelion

Standard-Issue (1,143 kudos) Another Overwatch fic, this one about McCree's recruitment into Overwatch

Sunlight and Sea Foam (1,102 kudos) A Witcher mermaid!au. This one I'm still pretty pleased with, it was a lot of fun to write.

Mark My Place (952 kudos) A post-canon MDZS fic in which I get to lavish love on Wei Wuxian! A pretty impressive kudo count given that it's only a few months old

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Generally I try to! I really appreciate getting comments and I want to let people know that <3 Fandom is the most fun when it's a community and the only way to get that is to actually connect with people. Also I personally appreciate it when an author responds to comments when a new chapter drops because it helps me keep track of fic updates, so I often do that too for on-going stories :3

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't really go in for anything without a happy ending ^^;; Maybe In My Hands I Held The World purely because I didn't finish it and stopped writing in the middle of the all the hurt and never made it to the comfort? Or Promises Misconstrued just by virtue of it.... well, being what it is.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

We only believe in happy endings here!! I really couldn't narrow it down, I like a happy ending... The Celestial Shell Game was a pretty recent one MDZS fic that was just pure post-canon fix-it and reconciliation and lightly bullying the juniors

7. Do you write crossovers?

I do from time to time, but most aren't ever cleaned up or completed to the point of posting -- they're just Fun For Me fics.

My only completed crossover is a Torchwood/MASH fic called An Officer's Guide to Surgery, Shelling & Pterosaurs. It was honestly just a wild ride to write. Very proud of how that one turned out

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

A bit, but not for years. The only one I specifically remember was someone who was very unhappy that I wasn't including individual chapter content warnings, I guess because they've never read a novel?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not often, I am Very Ace, but it does happen occasionally. Bound and Held was my most recent one, which was really just 20k of pure kink exploration because Geralt and Dandelion just have the vibe

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so...

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

One! An old Les Mis fic got translated into Chinese years back :3 that was very flattering that someone would want to go to that amount of effort

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Me and @meso-mijali will co-write stuff from time to time, but nothing that's ever made it to completion. I do use her relentlessly to help me solve plot dilemmas (or make new plot dilemmas, depending on how things are going)

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Could not tell you, 100% depends on sort of mood I'm in sorry xD I bounce all over the place. At the moment I am deeply into wangxian, to the surprise of no one following me on tumblr at the moment

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well, any of my three current fics I'd love to make some progress on >:/ but I'm still hopeful about getting them finished, albeit slowly and painfully. I have a Hogan's Heroes dating sim that me and @meso-mijali have been working on but the longer it goes undone the more I suspect it never will be *sigh* it took so much planning but it's hard to pick up again in the middle. I also had a Lupin soulmate au called Mosiac that I feel bad about dropping. I still quite like the concept but I'm stuck on where to go next with it...

15. What are your writing strengths?

Uhh... I dunno, there must be something because people seem to enjoy my work well enough but I'll be damned if I know what it is. I think I write high intensity, sensory-based scenes pretty well? At least I like doing them a lot. And I get complimented on my character voices sometimes, so hopefully that!

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing >:/ I will ramble and ramble and ramble and then need to go back and cull things until I have a fic that's even halfway readable. It's so hard to get good pacing down.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Big fan, I'm always here for a bilingual bonus. Either I understand it and get a little thrill out of it or else I just google translate it real quick. As for me writing it I generally don't because I don't want to fuck it up beyond reason... sometimes I might dabble with French if it's character appropriate.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Les Mis! I'm too terrified to reread anything from my Les Mis era because god only knows what my writing was like back then, but it was such a warm and welcoming fandom it's what finally gave me the nerve to starting engaging in fandom space as more than observer

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

...I'm not sure I have one, if I want to write about something I generally do, even if I don't get it to be "publishing" worthy... Maybe Hogan/Kinch? I really like that ship, but I've never written much Hogan's Heroes fic to begin with, I think I only have one published work, and I find it a hard one to write shippy things for

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Huh... I'm not sure. There a number of fics I've written that I still really really like and will reread (the author's amazing! she knows exactly what I like!) I'm really proud of my Torchwood/MASH crossover, it's my longest fic and took the highest level of technical skill to write. I also tend to reread A Poet Under Pressure fairly often because I do love tormenting Dandelion u.u

[aelaer]

Just saw your post about having to block the doctor strange x reader tag, and I must agree it's become the predominant DS fic that comes up as recommended on my feed as well. There are several authors I enjoy reading in that category (although lately the overall amount of fics is overwhelming), but I only started writing them myself as my stephen x ofc fics could never gain a bit of traction. I have a theory that if I went back and changed my ofc's to reader inserts, I'd probably gain a lot more readers--but I can never bring myself to doing that as I wouldn't be true to myself as an author.

I suppose that's just a writerly woe I'm sharing with someone who might understand.😏 But I'm curious; are you open to reading non-romance fics featuring original characters? I've found that tumblr can be quite snobbish towards that species of fic.

I wanted to reply to this ages ago but it requires my computer and some thinking, so I kept pushing it off again and again and again and whelp, here we are. My bad. ><

I'm the same way where being true to myself as an author is writing what I want, so I get you there. Doesn't get As Much Engagement as other tropes would, but y'know what, I can live with that. If anything, I've actually found that the fic I compromised most on (because it was for a themed exchange) is one I want to reread the least. So if anything, a lot of me writes for "do I want to reread this in the future" and that has helped me since.

It's funny since OFC romances used to be pretty popular way back when, but I guess "reader" took over that audience over the last decade because the majority of the people just wanted to insert themselves into the position instead of reading about a full-fleshed character? Honestly not sure.

Right, I keep delaying the reason I took so long to get back to you - non-romance fics with OCs. The answer, by the way, is yes. Great OCs are fantastic, but you don't tend to see many OCs outside of romance, or you only see them as side characters in another pairing's fic. They don't often have starring or co-starring roles. But I wanted to find examples with great OCs which would take time.

And now I'm taking that time. Here's some good OC-starring fics that I scoured through the tag. They're difficult to find. I had to smudge that requirement after a while. Then I gave up after I got to 2 years back in the tag.

Some of the stories that I know have very good OCs are also IronStrange, but I know that's not your cup of tea so I left it out. But I found a handful.

Keshwyn was the author that came to mind when you originally sent this ask, but I wanted to have more than one author when I wrote this. Read their series, highly recommend, top-tier OCs across the whole spectrum, with the main star being female.

This fic by LexLemon is technically PalmerStrange, but the OCs are her parents, so it's basically a delight in my eyes as Stephen's fish-out-of-water act is always funny to me.

Dragonnan writes good OCs, usually the mean sort though, the ones who hurt Stephen rather than befriend him (male and female lmao), but if you're in a whumpy mood at some point...

This isn't technically an OC, but I don't know the character from the comics, so she's an OC to me! This Stephen's new apprentice is Casey Kinmont fic by Stratagem. They just updated recently too, need to cheer them on at some point.

*sigh* Sorry love, I ran out of good OC fics that didn't have background/primary IronStrange that I could find/remember. But yeah. There's some fic/author recs.

(If anyone wants to add to the list, feel free to leave a comment or reblog. I was avoiding IronStrange for the asker in particular but I don't think the asker sees reblogs so go for it if you'd like).

Also, I love the OCs that I've come up with for my various stories in both LOTR and the MCU. I'll ramble all about them if you (or someone) wants me to, quite happily.

Hope that answers the question/reason for the ask, mostly.

[violets-in-her-arms-writes]

WIP Wednesday Tag

Thank you @rubywrite for the tag ! ♥ (even though it took me 3 days to answer XD) It forced me to write on my main WIP, so thank you so much !

RULES:

In a reblog (or new post/w rules attached) post up to five filenames of your WIPs, not titles, file names

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be something you wrote in the last 7 days (we're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post!)

After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from, write 3 sentences on it anyway and then 3 more on another to share!

That's it! You can invite others to join in or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request.

I usually name my WIP documents with the (temporary) title, so I'm afraid it won't be very interesting but anyway, here are 5 of my recent-ish WIPs:

🦇 La Fledgling (version complète) → doc where I compile all the things I've written for this WIP, because otherwise they are separated in "chapter 1" to "chapter 11" documents, but I like to have a complete doc to know how many words I have

🧜‍♀️ Mermaid AU → not very original since this is, you guessed it, an AU where the two main characters of the Fledgling are mermaids (well, one is currently drowning but I only have 600 words, I'll get to the mermaid part one day). It's a baby WIP, something I write for fun when I don't feel like writing for the main WIP. I might try my hand at a soulmate AU next, but I need to decide what kind and that's gonna need a lot of thinking (15 minutes to three business weeks, basically).

🌠The Wishing Star → it was my Camp NaNo project, about a woman who wants to become a pilot in a war-torn galaxy but first has to serve in a postal ship. Unfortunately, the ship is attacked but the resistance, she discovers she's adopted and has to fight to liberate her birth planet. Poor girl. It's currently on hold, because I was tired of it by the end of April XD

🐍The Witch's Time (tome 3) → the love of my life and bane of my existence. I'm stuck in the middle of this book, I need to cut half of it and put it in the 4th book and figure out... so many things. I printed the first two and they are soooo pretty. Unfortunately, this third book is kicking my ass. I'll be back Llewella, I swear, but I need time. It's not you, it me (I say, like a liar). It's technically an AU of another project of mine, but it grew a mind of its own and now I'm attached.

👽 Le truc avec les aliens (tome 2) → technically, its name is "Empire Déchu, tome 2 - La malédiction de Suli" but that's way too long so I just call it 'the thing with the aliens' because, really, that's what this is. A novel. With aliens. And a poor girl kidnapped and hailed as the saviour of a dying sect who want to resurrect a dead guy.

Now that I'm face to face with a few of my WIPs, I realized a lot of them have English titles, for some reason. I mean... I know why "La Fledgling" is called that (hint: it's because i couldn't find a good equivalent in French. Come on, jeune ? Débutante ? That's... not good. I'm not writing about a noble woman making her debut in society, be serious). But the others are just... choices. It sounded good and now it's stuck. Ok, maybe not 'the wishing star' because I don't like this title, but for WsT it's too late. I'm three books in, I can't go back.

Excerpt behind the cut, because this post is getting a little too long.

Excerpt:

"What do you want?" I asked her without giving her a chance to say anything.

As much as I hoped she would call me with something positive to say, I had known Anaëlle Charles since kindergarten. If she called me, it was always a bad sign.

"Jo, dear, I could use your help."

"Yes, I know. That's why I asked you what you wanted, moron."

I got up from my warm and cozy bed, still talking, put my phone on speaker the floor, and began to fumble for my clothes in the dark. Where the fuck was my left sock ? I was pretty sure my shirt was inside-out, but I doubted anyone would notice where I was going. Wherever that was.

Please dont let in be the swamps again, I prayed while putting my boots on.

"I'm... in trouble."

I was about to tell her that, yeah, obviously she was in trouble, she wouldn’t be calling at four in the morning if she wasn't, but something in her voice stopped me. It didn’t sound like the «I’m lost in the swamps again» kind of troubles, not even the «I think my magic is trying to eat me (again)» kind of trouble, both of which I could solve with my eyes close (mostly). It sounded… Like the bad kind of trouble. The one I wasn’t awake enough for.

Before I could ask her what the fuck was going on and why she sounded so… off, she went on, her voice almost as low as a sigh. Her breath sizzled in the receiver and I could hear her fingernails clicking against something metallic.

Ana was good at pretending, but she always ended up betraying herself.

"I'm at 23 Boulevard de l'Aube. Come get me. Hurry."

She pulled the phone away from her, shouted something I didn't understand, and hung up.

Tagging : @ladyniniane, @flowerprose and @amewinterswriting if you want to play (even tho it's not wednesday...)

[bakurapika]

Sorry if this is derailling, bc I think this is still on-topic even though it's not specifically queer

fairly recently i remember seeing a photo of a nude woman, and it WAS in fact posted by a nsf(w) blog and tagged as such, and it was flagged (although still available for public viewing if you opt in - porn blogs are alive and well on tumblr.com). but it was flagged for "sexual content." and it's not someone making a come-hitcher face, zoomed in on genitals, showing anyone fucking. I don't remember the pose but it was extremely neutral, like, standing next to some furniture, looking out a curtain or something. it was literally just a photo of a nude woman.

i don't know why that particular image is living in my brain rent-free but it seemed like it was saying the quiet part out loud a little too blatantly. I don't think it was weird or incorrectly labeled or different from any other website, but it was just so stark how many assumptions were being made.

Sexuality is such a specific part of human life and it's something you need to actively choose to take part in. It's not an inherant aspect of anyone's body (not even genitalia, but that as sex organs, that at least would make some sense to label as sexual, right?).

Like if we banned depictions of foosball so we started labeling everything with a man's uncovered forearm and hand as being foosball material. You can play foosball in gloves and long sleeves. You don't need to be a man to play it - maybe that's not even everyone's first thought when considering a foosball stereotype. But somehow those rules got set in stone and we all have to follow them, so now when we see bare forearms, we get suspicious about what kind of site would let that slip through for normal, non-foosballers to see it. The mere suggestion of foosball is as bad as actually playing it. We just don't want people to be able to hypothetically imagine someone in a foosball-playing position without feeling very awkward and kind of guilty about it.

making art sites that don't allow NSFW is useless to me. not even to get my rocks off, i mean at this point not allowing NSFW ends up being a nightmare of random queers getting banned because the guidelines are too ill-defined and art that presents the human body, especially femme and trans, will just get obliterated for no reason despite not being sexual.

[ann-jujimi]

A quick follow-up to this post about accessibility and sending professional email:

The message templates I mentioned aren't available in mobile Gmail at this point, but you can still set up email templates and save them as Drafts.

When you need a quick text/template/sentence frame, click on Drafts in the sidebar and copy/paste from the relevant draft. Subject lines are visible in message drafts, so you can use that line to name your templates if you have a bunch and use them regularly.

And speaking of mobile writing, there are a lot of people, again of all ages, whose phone is their primary device. They might have access to another device at work or through school, but the device they own, where they have an expectation of privacy, is their smartphone, and if they learned how to touch-type on a standard computer keyboard they might struggle to write fluently or quickly on their phone, which could result email that sounds less than professional.

If that's the case, speech-to-text is going to be helpful, but that method is far from perfect, and might feel awkward in spaces that aren't private. My suggestion is to practice typing on the screen.

I do a lot of writing on my phone, and I know there are other people with really fast fingers out there, but for those of you who struggle with this and want to increase your wpm and accuracy on your phone, I've got some tips!

Adust the height of your keyboard and the size of the keys. Gboard does this and there are some other useful settings like editing-mode, clipboard functions, and a text scanner. Gboard is great, but make sure to be aware of and adjust your privacy settings as appropriate.

Go into keyboard settings and adjust vibration and haptics to so there's a slight vibration when keys are pressed. (I have pop-up on key press enabled too and I think it makes me more accurate.)

Adjust your body position so you're comfortable, and ensure that you're holding your phone far enough away from your body that you can see the typing area and the whole keyboard while you type.

Sit to type whenever possible, and rest your hands and forearms on something that elevates your phone slightly so you're not folding forward over it. Ergonomics is especially important on mobile. Don't hurt yourself!

Turn down your screen's brightness and/or use a night mode setting so you don't exhaust your eyes.

Practice! We've tried a few typing programs with students, most of them paid, but I recommend MonkeyType because it's free, fun, and works well on mobile. If you try it and decide to create an account, go to settings and adjust test time to your preference. If you're not sure start with 2-5 minutes. Play with the Funbox settings to customize the test, and see if you can beat your best score for speed and accuracy. You can customize the keystroke sound too! Some of them are really annoying!

Take breaks, stretch, flex your fingers, rotate your wrists!

Apps for mobile writers (my favorites):

Proton Drive has a free version with a few GB of storage

Markor is a free offline text editor for Android. It supports markdown and is customizable, and sharing from Markor to other apps is simple and fast.

Obsidian is another markdown editor with a free version, is cross-platform, has options to sync files across devices, and supports organization of notes with tagging and linking.

Personal Dictionaries. On Android this is literally called "personal dictionary" in settings, and on iOS I think it lives under the autocorrect setting. Depending on what you're writing, proactively adding words like proper nouns to your personal dictionary instead of waiting for autocorrect to learn them will improve your typing speed!

There are tons of apps and cloud storage out there and I haven't tried most of them, but those are the apps I feel most comfortable using.

iOS has a built-in notes app but apparently a recent update made it hard to use? (I don't have an iPhone but this was an issue for someone in my family who said it takes forever to open now. I hope they fix that because so many people rely on it.)

If you have a Google account, Keep Notes is pretty reliable but as far as I can tell the note "file" seems to be indistinguishable from a Google Doc -- every note in Keep has an option to move it to Google Docs -- so if you use Google Docs for writing this might be ideal. I don't use Docs for personal writing because I have to use it for work, but it's reliable and easy to use on mobile.

Please reply or reblog if you know of any mobile writing apps that are easier for everyone to use, more reliable, or have better privacy/encryption options.

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Captivated (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

***please note that this is a sequel to “Safety”, which can be read HERE. Reading Safety before reading this is not necessary, but doing so will provide additional context for this story***

***please note that this now has a sequel, “Storms”, which can be read HERE.

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, references to an ill parent, spoilers for House of the Dragon

Word Count: 6,000 ish.

Summary: While serving as Princess Rhaenyra’s lady in waiting, you’ve been granted ample time to become well-acquainted with the man they call Breakbones. The Princess’ recent tours of Westeros in search of a befitting King Consort have only allowed the two of you to grow closer, and now you’re completely taken with Ser Harwin Strong. But the Princess’ recent tour to the Riverlands, in addition to some troubling news from home concerning the health of your father, Lord Tyrell, have left you feeling discouraged. You’ve begun to fear your affections for the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms may not be returned. Perhaps a surprise visitor from Highgarden will clear things up...

A/N: Y’all... I am FLOORED. Absolutely shooketh. Nothing I have written has ever received such an overwhelming response. Thank you all so much to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged Safety. I appreciate each and every one of you so very much. I am not sure how many parts this series will get, but the ending of this one pretty clearly sets up a part 3... so let me know if that’s something you’d like to see. Please see the A/N at the ending of this chapter for notes regarding the taglist. Thank you all again. I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week! 🖤 PS: this is a Criston Cole hate account. #sorrynotsorry.

I really hope the tags work and I won’t have to post this twice.🥲 Please forgive me if I do.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra smiled warmly at the small child, as did you. The little girl humbly accepted the half a loaf of bread from the Princess’ hands.

You and the Princess were currently in the heart of King’s Landing, inside one of the city orphanages. The harvest that year was already proving to be bountiful, almost entirely in part to the good people who worked the lands of your home. It seemed that there was plenty of food to go around those days, and you were grateful that the Princess and the King were of the mind that it ought not to be wasted.

Back in the Reach, you and your brother had often done the same- you’d visited all of the orphanages and sick homes in Oldtown and even The Arbor at one point or another. Your father has instilled the concept of giving back to those in need very early on in your lives, as your grandmother had instilled the same in him.

You had mentioned this in passing to Princess Rhaenyra one day, when she was still becoming acquainted with you. Once she’d heard of it, she declared it to be a worthwhile endeavor, and adopted something similar as part of her own regular routine.  As such, she had made it a point to visit a new place in need throughout the city each week.

While it warmed your heart to help those less fortunate than yourself, especially the parentless children, you were happy that the Princess had decided to become more hands-on with her charitable works for other reasons. You were no fool- you knew how positively the common folk viewed noble men and women who showed them sympathy and kindness.

As lady in waiting to the future Queen, you knew it would be in Princess Rhaenyra’s best interest to win the hearts of the people as soon as possible. Dark plots were actively working against Princess Rhaenyra already, and the more political tools she equipped herself with, the better she’d fare in any future struggle for power.

While you had fully supported the Princess’ recent charitable endeavors, as did King Viserys, others from Court were less than thrilled with the idea. Queen Alicent had voiced some concern, as did Ser Criston Cole. He had deemed it too dangerous.

Even now, the Dornish knight was visibly sweating from across the room. From what the Princess had told you personally, and from what you had heard from others, Ser Criston Cole had experienced many battles, and lived to tell the tale of them all. And yet, in a simple orphanage within King’s Landing, he appeared to be visibly sweating and his eyes shifted across the room madly. His nervousness on behalf of the Princess’ safety had to have occupied his every thought.

Standing beside him, and much more relaxed in composure, was Ser Harwin Strong.

In your time at Court, Ser Harwin Strong had become a member of the City Watch. As a result, he’d become quite familiar with the inner workings of the city, and was comfortable walking amongst the streets. Ser Harwin had proven himself to be an asset for the Princess’ repeated journeys out into the city. Being out in the heart of the city didn’t appear to scare him or cause him any serious cause for concern. But you doubted anything would.

Unlike the panicked eyes of Ser Criston, Ser Harwin’s gentle eyes watched over you and the Princess carefully as you interacted with the children bouncing with excitement around you. You caught him staring at you as you continued to distribute bread, but forced yourself not to think too much of it.

Eventually, it was time to return the Red Keep. You could have sworn you’d never seen Ser Criston look so relieved- though perhaps that would only be true until the Princess’ next escapade concluded. He and Ser Harwin scouted the entrance to the orphanage to make sure there was no sign of danger while you and Princess Rahenyra bid the children goodbye with promises to return in a few weeks.

You made your way out of the dwelling to where the carriage, along with the rest of the guards who had been recruited to comprise the escort, was waiting for the two of you. Princess Rhaenyra climbed in first. You were quick to follow, but were temporarily paused when someone politely offered you an arm for assistance.

It was Ser Harwin.

“My Lady,” he said, bowing his head downwards towards his extended arm.

Despite yourself, you smiled at him as a sign of your gratitude, and hopped up and inside the carriage with his assistance. Once you and Princess Rhaenyra were both seated inside, the carriage was lifted up and off the ground, beginning the return back to the Red Keep. Ser Criston and Ser Harwin, one of them on either side of the carriage, kept vigilant eyes on your surroundings as the entourage moved through the streets. You caught glimpses of the two knights every now and then through the grated windows near the top of the carriage.

“I cannot tell you how relieved I am to be back,” Princess Rhaenyra sighed after a moment. She leant back against the wall of the carriage, and settled down further in her seat.

From your seat across from her, you offered her a small smile. “I recall the feeling of returning home after a long journey very well, Your Grace. I dare say that there is little else that compares.”

Princess Rhaenyra laughed shortly, but you knew she meant no offense. “Though I dare say the feeling of being out of the clutches of power-hungry suitors to be a far better one than that which you have described.”

You stifled a laugh, knowing your involuntary response would be frowned upon by most others at Court. However, none would be more displeased to hear of it than King Viserys, who had through painstakingly great lengths to arrange the tour of the Seven Kingdoms. It was all organized in the hope that his daughter might find a suitor worthy of both her heart and the title of King Consort.

Unfortunately, the tour had proven to be unsuccessful thus far. Princess Rhaenyra had visited the Reach, the Westerlands, and the Riverlands, and not a single notable contender had emerged- at least not in the eyes of Rhaenyra. She had claimed the majority of the hopefuls who had paid her visit to be either far too old, or far too young. She noted that the rest of them had been about as “insufferable” as their power hungry father and grandfathers, who had watched the proceedings with greedy eyes.

You had only received second hand accounts of the events, and largely from the Princess’ sole perspective. While it would have been expected of you to attend Princess Rhaenyra throughout her travels, she had taken her junior ladies in waiting with her for assistance instead. Meanwhile, she had tasked you with what she deemed to be far more important.

Princess Rhaenyra had asked you to stay behind, in King's Landing, to see to her personal affairs. It had been difficult to accept at first, even more so when the Princess went to visit the Reach. But you trusted and respected her opinion that you would be more of use to her elsewhere. While there would always be secretarial duties to attend to, and charitable functions to plan, the main reason the Princess had asked you to stay behind was for reconnaissance purposes.

Foul whispers about the Princess were abound, and they only grew more troubling in her absence. But with you, an obvious ally and devout supporter of the future Queen, roaming around the Red Keep in her stead, the whispers were more timid, and their perpetrators were kept at bay. Any rumors that still managed to reach your ears were immediately reported to Princess Rhaenyra upon her return.

“At least the Riverlands were quite remarkable,” Princess Rhaenyra noted positively, changing the subject. She gazed out the window, as if recalling a scene from her memory. “Even though they are named for such, I was truly amazed at the sheer amount of rivers we came across.”

You smiled at her enthusiasm.

“Have you ever been? To the Riverlands?”

“I’m afraid I have not had the pleasure, Your Grace.”

“We must change that then,” the Princess insisted, giving you a conspiring smile.

“Do you intend to return to the Riverlands soon?” you asked, with sincere interest. “Has one of the suitors finally caught your attention?”

Princess Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, a gesture that most would deem extremely unladylike. However, you knew it to be a common occurrence for her, and had grown quite accustomed to it. Her boldness was appealing, and refreshing amongst the other “highly-refined” ladies at Court. She had thick skin, and never hesitated to speak her mind; you knew that both qualities would serve her well as future Queen.

“Don’t sound too eager, Lady Y/N,” she chided playfully. “Lord Tully was a gracious host, of course. But unfortunately, all of the gentlemen callers were just the same. Too old, too young, or too-”

“-Insufferable,” you finished for her, having heard her same speech twice before.

Princess Rhaenyra laughed. “Precisely.”

In your time in service to the Princess, you had come to be quite close. You considered her a friend, and could only hope that she considered you to be the same. On bolder days, you might have contemplated whether Queen Alicent’s marriage to her father had left the young woman in search of some companionship. If there was a void in that area of her life, you were happy to fill it. You missed her when she was gone on her travels… But perhaps you missed one of her most recent traveling companions even more.

“It was not entirely a waste, I suppose,” Princess Rhaenyra admitted then, her tone shifting once more. “Ser Harwin Strong is far from terrible company.”

Immediately, you glanced at the carriage windows with worry. Was it possible that the very man in question was able to overhear you now? The streets were alive with people, but if Ser Harwin was walking right alongside the carriage…

However, Princess Rhaenyra did not seem deterred. In fact, noticing your apprehension only encouraged her more. She leaned forward in her seat, and said, “We had many great conversations, Ser Harwin and I.”

You forced yourself to smile, torn between the comradery and duty you felt for the princess, and the aching pain you felt in your heart.

“I can tell you all about our conversations, if you’d like,” Princess Rhaenyra offered, clearly, but thankfully, oblivious to your inner struggle. “I believe you’ll find them to be very interesting.”

Normally, you would readily indulge in some harmless gossip with her. But now, you loathed the thought of what she might tell you. “If it is your wish to share such details, Your Grace.”

The Princess finally noticed that something was amiss. She sat back in her seat, and gave you a befuddled look. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” she questioned. “You’ve been very quiet these past few days…”

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to be honest with the Princess. But at that moment, you could not compel yourself to tell her the entire truth. So, you settled for a half-truth, and opted to share with her one of the two things that hung very heavy over your head as of late.

“My father has taken ill,” you admit, lowering your voice so as not to be overheard by anyone outside of the carriage. “I received a letter from my brother just a few days past”

Princess Rhaenyra’s confused expression shifted to one of sympathy.

“The Maesters say he should pull through,” you continued, “But I am worried.”

The Princess had never been anything less than kind to you, but still, you could not have anticipated her next move. She reached across the carriage and placed a soothing hand overtop of your own, which you hadn’t realized you’d wrung together in your concern.

“My father has always described Lord Larris as a strong man,” she assured you full-heartedly. “I trust the gods will see to it that he recovers fully and swiftly.”

You were touched by her gesture. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Should you desire to go visit him, I will agree to it at once.”

“I will keep that in mind, Princess.”

Later that evening, once the Princess had retired, you made your way from her chambers towards your own. Though the hallways of the Red Keep were seldom unoccupied, save the guards keeping watch, they certainly appeared to be that night.

It was unfortunate that the one person you encountered was the one man that, for once, you hoped not to see.

“Ser Harwin.”

The knight paused in his tracks, and bowed his head graciously in greeting. “Lady Y/N.”

“It is a good evening, is it not?”

“It is,” he agreed, smiling softly. “And, seeing as I have been fortunate enough to speak with you, it stands to improve even more.”

Despite your reservations, you blushed.

The relationship between yourself and Ser Harwin Strong, much like your relationship with Princess Rhaenyra, had grown tremendously during your time at Court. And, it had blossomed even as of late. While the Princess had tasked you with seeing to matters in King’s Landing while she went on her tours of Westeros, there were times when you had seen to everything that needed to be done, and as a result, you sought company instead. More often than not, that company had been found in Ser Harwin. Though he had his own duties to see to as a member of the City Watch, he’d never failed to make time for you.

At first, it started off with polite conversation occurring throughout strolls throughout the castle gardens and surrounding grounds. Princess Rhaenyra was correct in her insinuation earlier in the day- despite the bruteish nickname he bore, Ser Harwin was more than a decent conversationalist. The topics were light hearted, but any conversation with him sent your heart racing anyway.

Eventually, you began to share meals together on occasion. Deeper conversations occurred during those times. You’d come to discover that you and Ser Harwin had much more in common than either of you realized. You were both very close to your families. You had each lost your mothers at a young age, but both of you had good relationships with your fathers, and absolutely adored your siblings. He had enamored you with tales of the haunted halls of Harrenhal, and in exchange, you had told him all about the gardens of Highgarden and seasonal festivals that the Reach boasted.

Most recently, the two of you, along with a small party composed of his brother, two sisters, and another few members of the Court, had gone for a few days’ hunt in the Kingswood. You hadn’t lucked out on the hunt like some of the others had, but it was a thrilling experience nonetheless.

The hunt had led Ser Harwin to discover your familiarity with a bow. Though perhaps it was not very lady-like, your father had taught you how to shoot at a young age, deciding that it had the potential to be a unique party trick, at the very least. Your hobby had never been put to use by targeting live animals, but rather, stationary or inanimate objects thrown up into the air. For you, it had never been about the hunt, just the sport of it all.

As soon as you explained as much to Ser Harwin, he requested you to demonstrate your skills. You attempted to politely decline, but upon seeing a disappointed glint in his eyes, you changed your mind. A small crowd had assembled for the showdown between you and Ser Harwin one afternoon. His sisters, surprisingly, cheered for your victory instead of their older brother’s. You found it to be amusing, but oddly touching. Ser Harwin took it in stride, and merely jested about the familial betrayal.

At the end of the shooting rounds, you emerged as the winner, but by only a narrow margin. Ser Harwin could not be faulted; it was well known he was far more talented with a sword than bow, anyway.

Part of you feared Ser Harwin’s reaction, worried that his displeasure would put a strain on your growing relationship. But he had surprised you- as he often did.

“Any boy can denounce a loss as unfair, or even simply blame the wind for a poor shot,” he’d said, grinning ear to ear as he plucked one of your arrows from the bullseye of a target, and handed it back to you gracefully. “It takes a man to be willing to admit defeat to the truly better aim, regardless of who that victor may be.”

Ser Harwin Strong was a flatterer, through and through.

You raised your head to look him fully straight on. Speaking in such close proximity to Ser Harwin always made you recall just how massive he was. Your chin was practically tilted upwards, and his head was bowed down to regard you.

“I apologize that we have not been able to speak much before now,” Ser Harwin said, sounding and looking completely sincere.

“Your apologies are not necessary, My Lord. I am sure you’ve had a great deal of things to attend to, especially after having been gone these past few weeks.”

As was expected, Ser Harwin had traveled with Princess Rhaenyra during her tour of the Riverlands- his home. You had no doubt he had presented himself to her as a potential suitor in Lord Tully’s halls, along with dozens of other vying contenders. As the oldest son of Lord Lyonel, and Heir to Harrenhal, you knew Ser Harwin had every right to offer the Princess his hand. In fact, his failure to do so might have even been considered a slight against the crown- one that his father, the current Master of Laws, would not have likely been able to afford.

But you dreaded the day when news would reach your ears of Ser Harwin Strong’s betrothal. Between his title, strength, and handsomeness, it was a downright wonder why a match had not been made for him yet. You knew it was only a matter of time… and while you had come to cultivate deep feelings for the knight, Princess Rhaenyra would be a far better match for him.

Since their return from the Riverlands, you noticed more and more frequent looks exchanged between the two of them. Knowing looks. It was apparent to you that Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwsin held information that you were not privy to. And you had a sinking feeling as to what it was.

An announcement had yet to be made, but Rhaenyra had yet to complete her tour. She was off to the Stormlands the following week. And yet, it was likely all for show. She had to be fair and allow other potential suitors to believe they still stood a chance for her hand- when clearly they did not.

Princess Rhaenyra must have chosen Ser Harwin Strong.

The Realm’s Delight and Breakbones? They made a better pair than one would think. She was a dragon, and he was a fearsome warrior. Her mental ingenuity would only be supported by his brute force of strength. Together, they would take down enemies to her claim one by one. They would want or need for nothing- and neither would their children.

And you, you would resign yourself to your place. Despite being the daughter of Lord Tyrell, you could never hope to compete with the Princess of Westeros for a suitor’s hand. And you never would. You had sworn her your allegiance… your true heart’s desire be damned.

“How were your travels, My Lord?”

“A bit tiring, if I may speak plainly,” he replied carefully. Even you had to admit that he sounded fatigued. “But it was necessary, which has made it easier to bear.”

I suppose winning the heart of the future Queen of Westeros made the trip worthwhile as well, you couldn’t help but think to yourself. “I am glad to hear that, My Lord.”

Ser Harwin reached a hand up to smooth through his brown locks, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You realized with slight shock that he was demonstrating an emotion you had yet to see him display in all the time you’d known him- Ser Harwin was nervous.

“Are you well, Ser Harwin?” you questioned, not caring at all about the concern which was evident in your voice.

Ser Harwin’s gaze softened even more. Your concern had moved him. “All is well, Lady Y/N…” He cleared his throat, before his eyes fell to the floor. “Or, rather, there are no physical ailments burdening me…”

On one hand, you were taken aback by the foreignness of it all. This large man looked as nervous and shy as some of the children you had visited that same morning. On the other hand, it was slightly endearing to learn that a man with the nickname Breakbones was not able to escape the burden of emotions that plagued everyone else. He was just as capable of being human as those two, even three times less his size.

Before you mentally dared to compare him to a gentle giant, Ser Harwin continued.

“I had some… rather enlightening conversations with Princess Rhaenyra during our travels,” he admitted, the nerves he physically displayed betraying his voice ever so slightly as well. “The conversations opened my eyes to a truth that I have denied for quite some time.”

You were surprised to hear that he had not been taken with Princess Rhaenyra upon first sight- most men were. But yet again, Ser Harwin was not like most men.

“I was hoping to discuss this further with you,” Ser Harwin confessed. He looked you straight on, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from his for a moment, even if you had wanted to. “Somewhere more private?”

There was a hopeful glint in his hazel eyes, but the thought of advising him on matters pertaining to keeping the Princess’ interest made you feel suddenly ill.

“Perhaps we could dine together in a few days?” he suggested then, his nerves amplified by your lack of immediate response. “Or, maybe we could take a walk in the gardens?”

You almost caved right then and there. Almost. Ser Harwin knew how much you liked walking through the castle gardens. Even though they paled in comparison to those of Highgarden, they still reminded you of home, and walking along the paths lined with various greenery and floral displays brought you comfort.

“I shall have to see, My Lord,” you replied, even though it practically pained you to not immediately agree. “The Princess has given me leave to visit my father, and I am inclined to take her offer.”

Instead of looking disappointed, Ser Harwin gave you a look of pure guilt.

“My sincerest apologies, My Lady,” he said. “... I may have inadvertently heard about the news of your father. While I did not mean to overhear you, I heard the Princess speak my name this afternoon, while the escort was on the way back to the Red Keep… I feared she required something of me. By the time I realized that I was not needed, I fear I may have heard too much.”

It was nice to have confirmation that the walls of the carriage were not very thick, if only for future reference. Part of you felt embarrassed by the fact that Ser Harwin had overheard your personal matter, but the other part felt relieved that the knowledge that had clouded your mind over the past few days had been made known to one of the few individuals you trusted in King’s Landing. And seeing as Ser Harwin looked and sounded as guilty as he admitted to be, you could not find it in yourself to be cross with him.

“Your apologies are not necessary, My Lord.”

“I wish Lord Tyrell a quick recovery,” he confided to you. “And, should you leave for Highgarden, I wish you safe travels.”

You smiled graciously. “Thank you, Ser Harwin. Should I see him, I shall pass your well wishes along to my father.”

It was Ser Harwin’s turn to smile then. But after a few moments, nervousness seeped into his composure once again. Though he was more soft-spoken than you had once imagined him to be, his next words were said so softly, that had you not been alone in the corridor, with only a few inches between yourselves, you might not have heard them at all.

“Should you decide to leave, Lady Y/N… I fear I will find myself counting down the days until I am in your company once more.”

… This man. This man was going to rip out your heart, tear it into pieces, toss it on the ground, and stomp on it through his impending marriage to the Princess you served dutifully. You knew you had to begin to prepare yourself to suffer through it… But you would also take any attention and warm sentiments that Ser Harwin Strong would grant you in the meantime.

The memories of his kindness that he had shown you would have to be enough to get you through the pain you were sure to endure.

Despite the forwardness of Ser Harwin’s words, what was more alarming was the stark seriousness of his expression. He meant every word of what he had just said, and you believed it fully. Still, you would have to be daft to decry him now just for the sake of proprietary. 

“I must admit… I shall miss you too, My Lord.”

By the end of the following week, Princess Rhaenyra was off on her tour of the Stormlands, with Ser Criston Cole glady serving as one of her escorts.

You had seen Ser Harwin in passing since the night you last spoke, but you did not make any further meaningful conversation with him. Though you missed your talks, you reasoned it was better for your heart to start putting some distance between the two of you now, before his marriage to Princess Rhaenyra would place you worlds apart.

You had seen to all the tasks that Princess Rhaenyra had left you with, and had begun to pack and ready the rest of your things. The plan was to embark on the trek back to Highgarden within a day or two.

But your plan was cut short when a messenger knocked on the door to your chambers. You had a visitor, and they were waiting for you in the courtyard of the Red Keep.

You hurried to the courtyard with moderate speed. It was seldom you had visitors- a cousin had visited once, a few weeks back. But besides that, no one had yet to pay you a visit. Many visitors to the Red Keep had it in mind to speak with many, many others besides the likes of you.

But when you entered the courtyard, you noticed the small entourage that had just arrived. No carriage in sight- just several men and their steeds. But that didn’t mean the visitor was from a place nearby. When your eyes fell upon a lean figure donned in the familiar colors of your House, you beamed brightly, knowing that without a doubt, this visitor was truly one for you.

“Brother?”

Your brother, Derron Tyrell, the Heir to Highgarden, turned to face you upon your call. When he saw you, he grinned. “Sister!”

You crossed the courtyard in large strides and practically leapt into Derron’s arms. Your brother caught you and returned your familial embrace with ease.

“I have missed you!” you told him hurriedly, pulling away to look at him. Even though it had only been a few months, going on a year at most, since you had seen him last, it had felt like far longer. But Derron looked the same as he always had, and it brought you joy to see him in good health.

“And I you, Y/N,” Derron replied, his smile still as bright as your own.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?” you demanded of him in a hushed whisper, your arms falling back down to your sides. Suddenly, a terrible thought entered your mind. “Did I miss a raven? Is father-”

“Father is alive,” your brother was quick to assure you. “And you did not miss a raven, for there was none sent to you.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

Derron looked at his entourage surrounding him. Though you recognized most of them as bannermen with whom he had rode and fought beside for years, you could tell that your brother was wary of their presence at this particular moment.

“Come now, Sister- we have much to discuss.”

It seemed that someone, although not you, had been expecting Derron Tyrell to arrive in King’s Landing. Chambers had already been set aside for him and his men, and he’d even been given a special audience with the King later in the week to discuss ongoing matters in the Reach.

Later that day, once your brother was settled in his chambers and unpacked, you met with him. You were eager to learn of the cause of his surprise visit, and to privately discuss what he had referred to in the courtyard.

The pair of you were seated at a table on the balcony connected to his chambers. As Derron poured you a glass of wine, before pouring one for himself, you asked him the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since his arrival.

“How is Father?”

“He’s made a turn for the better since I last wrote to you,” Derron answered truthfully, setting the pitcher of wine down. “He was still too weak to travel here, but the Maesters were even more hopeful than before by the time I left.”

That was great news. Perhaps your return visit to the Reach could wait a few more days, and once your brother’s affairs in King’s Landing were settled, you could ride back to Highgarden with him, and be all the more safer for it.

“What brings you here, Derron?” you asked then.

“You may not have received a raven, but Father did,” he replied. “Father received two of them, actually.”

“Who were they from?”

“The first was from Princess Rhaenyra herself.”

That was extremely surprising. Had you done something to upset the Princess? She seemed alright when she bade you goodbye before departing for the Stormlands… but perhaps she was attempting to save face in front of those around her. Had she written to your father and asked you to be removed from her service?

“I can see your mind racing,” your brother observed with a smirk. “You needn’t worry, Y/N. Princess Rhaenyra simply wished him a swift recovery, and invited him to King’s Landing to visit with King Viserys and to discuss matters of the Reach as soon as he was able to travel once more. I wish I had the letter to show you, but I believe father kept that for himself- the Princess complimented you greatly. I wish you could have seen the smile on his face as he read her words.”

The thought of your father’s smile due to humbling praises from Princess Rhaenyra brought a smile to your own face. You missed him. You missed home. But the visit with Derron would have to be enough, until a more suitable opportunity to return to Highgarden would appear.

“You mean to meet with the King later this week?” you asked, slightly confused. “Have you traveled here on Father’s behalf, then? Was there a matter so urgent that could not wait until he was able to travel here himself?”

“Yes… and no,” Derron. “All is as well as it can be in the Reach; the harvest has been as bountiful as we suspected it would be. But there was another, more pressing matter that required one of us to see to it immediately. Father decided it would be good practice for me to come and speak with the King about business while I was already in King’s Landing dealing with this other matter.”

The other matter must have been extremely pressing, if it had compelled your father to send Derron all the way to King’s Landing without so much as a raven’s notice. “Pray tell- what is this urgent matter you speak of?”

“That would involve the second raven Father received,” Derron pivoted. “Fortunately, I do have that letter in my possession. We both thought it might be best for you to see it for yourself.”

Your brother withdrew a rolled up piece of parchment from his coat, and handed it over to you. You took it with great intrigue, and immediately set about reading the tiny scrawlings littering the page.

“To Lord Larris Tyrell of Highgarden, Defender of the Marshes, Lord Paramount of the Reach, and Warden of the South:

I hope you are able to overlook my forwardness. I, Ser Harwin Strong, son of Lord Lyonnel Strong of Harrenhal, write to you regarding a most urgent matter of the mind and heart…”

You tore your eyes away from the page, and looked back up at your brother. The reassuring look on his face confirmed what you had suspected- your eyes were not deceiving you.

Ser Harwin had written to your father directly.

But what on earth for?!

“We received the raven with this message just a few days before I set out for King’s Landing. But I assure you, Father and I have discussed the contents of this letter at great length.”

You were almost too afraid to ask, but you found the courage to do so anyway. “What does this letter have to do with your visit?”

“If you would continue reading on, you shall see for yourself,” Derron encouraged you. “There are important conversations to be had with Ser Harwin Strong… as well as his father, Lord Lyonel. Such matters are far more appropriate to address in person, rather than by letter.”

Your eyes fell once more down to the parchment in your hands. “What matters could possibly require such attention?”

“... I can tell by your reaction that you have not spoken with Ser Harwin as of late,” your brother deduced. Didn’t last week count? “But that is of no matter. Now that I am here, we can all address it. Please, Y/N. Keep reading.”

“...

 I would like to start by wishing you the quickest of recoveries.

I hope this letter reaches you in due time- I intend to discuss this subject with Lady Y/N in depth as soon as she allows me, and as soon as I muster up the courage to do so. I believe she is the one who deserves to learn of this matter first, and so that she may pass her judgment on it. But, on the advice of my father, out of respect for your great House, and out of respect to my own, I thought it wise to at least enlighten you about my intentions.

I apologize- I have never had the reputation for being a particularly eloquent man. But for this letter, I shall to be just that. I have only recently returned to King’s Landing from escorting Her Grace, the Princess Rhaenyra to my home, the Riverlands. Despite the tiredness I feel, the journey opened my eyes to a truth that I feel drawn to act upon at once.

My Lord, I have had the immense pleasure of sharing company with Lady Y/N since the Princess Rhaenyra recruited her to be of her service some time ago. Although I am sure you are aware, Lady Y/N is a great compliment to your house. Her kindness and charms are extended warmly to all, from the royal family to the poor of King’s Landing. Her wit entertains all who are blessed with her conversation, and her tenacity to succeed in an environment without the support of her family, who she clearly loves so dearly, has been nothing short of inspiring- even to a ‘brute’ such as myself.

 All of this, when combined with the mere passage of time, and counsel from Princess Rhaenyra herself throughout our recent travels, has led to me to face one conclusion that I have been blind to for some time.

 I have become completely captivated by Lady Y/N.

 …”

Derron’s next words nearly fell upon deaf ears as you spaced out, torn between continuing your enthralled reading of the letter in your hands, and seeking clarification to the many questions that had been raised by it.

“It would seem,” your brother said wistfully, “That I am here to discuss the terms of your courtship, and inevitable betrothal, to Ser Harwin Strong.”

You were astonished.

“But before I can do that, I must know… Is this what you truly want?”

Part 3, “Storms,” can be read HERE.

A/N: Thank you for reading!🖤

Please feel free to let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist for any future parts. I apologize sincerely if I’ve missed anyone- please let me know if that’s the case! I tried to tag everyone from the first part who requested it, as well as some people who left comments on reblogs, but please do not hesitate to let me know if I missed anyone, or if you are on the taglist currently but wish to be removed.

TAGLIST: @whitetigerlover17 @littlebirdgot @strawbbyjamb @te5s3ract @landofdreamsworld @nerdboylover @piper570 @ephemeralninon @linkpk88 @green--beanie @kaygilles @hippzella @wicked-hg @thatgaytevinter @nowheredreamer @ateliefloresdaprimavera @queenofterrasen418 @saintspector @thebigbadbatswife @blazinglioness @itevilhag​ @chlo-feigh​ 

[pomrania]

Now that these polls are over, let's talk about the results. My main qualification here is that I'm the OP, thus (except for when I turned off notifications for this post) I saw every tag and comment in my Activity feed, so I have a pretty good feel for what people have been saying here.

First, some numbers. "I know who the mayor is" had a couple of different options to it, but all put together, it's around 52%. In the second poll, once you remove the "I knew who the mayor is" and "show results" options, leaving only people who definitely didn't know who the mayor is, the results are more like 52% "voted", 27% "not eligible to vote", 5% "intended to vote but didn't", and 16% "didn't vote".

As for why I didn't include an option for "we don't have a mayor"… I genuinely hadn't known that it was so common, I'd thought it would just be a few rare places, and would fall under "it's complicated" or "show results". Which seems to have mostly been the case, although there's a suggestion that some people voted "no", as in "no, I don't know who the mayor is, because there is no mayor".

Second, on the subject of the large number of people who didn't know who their mayor is. I've already shown that it's not quite as large as it seems, 37% who don't know compared to 52% who do know. A number of people said that they hoped that 37% was all children; if the second poll can be taken as a representative sample (at n=779, and with the results pattern having been more or less consistent once it got into the double digits, I'd say it can), this is clearly not the case. (At a minimum, over half of them voted; "not eligible" includes "didn't live here then" as well as "too young".)

A bit of first-hand anecdotal evidence. When the most recent municipal election came around here, I looked at the various candidates for positions, picked the ones I thought were best, voted; and then completely forgot the names of everyone involved. Plus, I'm reasonably sure that my chosen candidate didn't win the election; so simply from "voting", there was no way for me to inherently know who the mayor is. ("Not following local politics AFTERWARDS" is entirely on me though.) I have since looked up who the mayor is, and I still can't give that person's name with 100% certainty.

Other anecdotal evidence, going by what was written in a comment or added in a reblog. There's people who have moved recently, people who know the mayor of where they WORK (which is more relevant to their daily life) but not the mayor of where they RESIDE, people who can picture the mayor's face but not remember the name, people whose mayor has been doing a competent job and thus isn't someone they need to think about compared to their other politicians who have been causing problems….

If there's one thing you learn from having a poll take off, it's that there's way more variety to life than you originally assumed. That applies to personal habits, environmental conditions, "common" knowledge, and anything else you care to name; even things where 99% vote for a single option, either it turns out you're in the minority and hadn't known it, or you learn about minority situations / opinions you'd never even imagined.

In some places, you'd have to go out of your way to know who the mayor is; in some places, you'd have to go out of your way to NOT know who the mayor is. "SHOULD someone go out of their way, if necessary, to learn about the mayor" is a separate issue.