#i just want people to understand what they’re saying so they dont repeat far right dogwhistles

[afrenomes]

Going through the notes of that post because I hate myself for some reason and I’m about to fucking scream

Putting this word and any iteration of it on the highest shelf til goyim actually learn the definition and history of it and how it’s used in antisemitic dogwhistles

[ask-hunterxhunter]

Helloo royal Guards as yandere please

But without the presence of Meruem because I find it difficult for them to fall in love with Reader while serving the King.

Mmmh, Neferpitou with a Reader male because my headcanon is that she is a infertile female uhhh I dont know how to explain it but I think that in the ant castes there are infertile females that are workers

Yeah, as far as I know, that's how it is with ants... I'm not an expert, but I think the female workers are infertile and care for the queen. Their development depends on how much food they receive when they're larvae. If there is abundance, some larvae will be "princess ants" (fertile and will leave the colony to start their own once the time is right).

Hmm... The Chimera Ants, however, seem to work quite different. Besides the whole "Ant Giving Birth to an Anthro Lion" and what not, they didn't end up starving once the queen died (which I read happens because there are no more larvae and the ants need them to properly feed) and many of them left to try starting colonies of their own (even some of the males seemed to want that, not just females like Zanzan)...

Perhaps this is more like some species of wasp? I've read that the queen produces a pheromone that keeps the others infertile. Once she dies, they battle for dominance in order to become the next queen. With the Chimera, however, they left for new territories rather than stay and fight...

...

Is there an entomologist in the house?

Neferpitou

The royal guards, regardless of Meruem’s presence, are not exactly easy to deal with even in their normal state (and I don’t think this is simply because they are not humans). Take them to Yandere level and, well, let’s just say it is not a pretty picture…

Pitou is not someone whose interest is easily aroused (she is the kind that “knows several people but regards only a few of them as her actual friends”) and, in a sense, the opposite is also true: It’s not easy to lose such interest, either. With her in Yandere-mode, well, it’s basically impossible. Once you’ve realized what is going, taking the usual measures to try dealing with it (such as moving, contacting the police, so on), don’t waste any time hoping she will “move on” or “change targets” as some stalkers do. It's not in her nature (both due to her personality and instincts).

Not that you would certainly realize what is going on right away. It would depend on her mood and how she decides to deal with her feelings (and she can’t change this decision): She may just go for the straight, extreme actions or keep a convincing facade of normality for a while… Regardless of whether this “normality” is you trying to kill each other or being friends (or she at least living in peace among humans)...

In the “enemies” case, Pitou would not spend days brooding about having fallen for an enemy and trying to get rid of those feelings. She would just shrug the situation off and start to debate whether it’s best to kidnap you right away or try to court you. If she’s working with other Ants for whatever reason or they just happen to be in the area, she would make sure everyone knows you are not to be hurt (and may God have mercy on whoever doesn’t listen). Her attacks would still be convincing from your point of view while being harmless playing in Pitou’s mind. After all, she lets you escape with no injures!

The “convincing facade” is more regarding how deep (and unsettling) her feelings are. In both scenarios, she would confess soon and, being what/how she is, likely act on it. No matter how much you explain you’re not interested or what arguments you use, Pitou would just wave her tail, perhaps ask what you mean exactly in that “innocently curious” tone of hers and… Completely ignore what you just said.

Well, okay, maybe you need to remember she isn’t completely human, so you can’t demand that she behaves like one, right?

Oh, boy, are you making a mistake… Not being human doesn’t mean that Pitou doesn’t understand that there are limits.

She understands.

She just couldn’t care less.

Remember when she probed Pokkles’ brain with him still alive? When Gon and Killua saw her for the first time? This is nothing next to how she can be when she’s obsessed with you.

I mentioned she would act on her feelings, right? Here’s another thing: She is also likely to do so in the manner of an animal trying to attract a particular mate. And because we’re talking Yandere-mode, I don’t mean the “bird dancing” or “penguin offering a pebble”. Not even the “cat giving you a dead prey”…

If you’re friends/she’s living in the human society, there would be some restraint at first, to the point her insistence would seem innocent… Then she would either grow impatient and kidnap you, or things would escalate, giving you hints to the darkness of her feelings until you’re forced to accept that this friend is a threat to you. Maybe after returning home, you find a note in your bed in which Pitou wrote that she loves how soft your bed is, how your home’s security is lacking… And, by the way, that person seems to have a crush on you… Hmm… Should she break their hands or their legs? The playful tone of the note only makes it darker.

Somehow you know she is not kidding.

If you’re enemies, well, she has no reason to restrain herself from the start. Her interactions with you would become far darker even if she miiight not kidnap you right away (for whatever reason) especially since she wouldn’t waste time playing by human rules. Pitou would find a way to make a claim (pinning you down, rubbing herself against you like a cat, and even leaving a love bite/hickey on your neck are very much on the table) or say it loud and clear in battle when there are other humans around. This isn’t just for the other humans, but for you as well: You’re hers, now. There is no room for discussion.

Also, in this scenario, it’s not impossible that Pitou’s “love” started with her deciding to make you her pet. Collar and all.

It should be said that Pitou is a cat in almost every sense, so the tendency to “play with her food” is very much present... Yes, she sees you as a “mate” rather than “prey”, but your attempts to avoid/hide from her consist of an opportunity that is far too good to miss! You change address and, after a few days, start to relax… Only for her to leave a new “present” at your door! It’s both funny and cute how you thought something so simple would keep her away! Awww, you’re so adorable!

Again, it’s true that some of her actions (such as this) have no malice whatsoever behind them, but I repeat, don’t let yourself be fooled: She is very much aware that what she is doing is creepy and wrong and why. I’m repeating this because Pitou can be as charming and cute as a cat… And as devious and sadistic as any human.

While some yanderes give you time (perhaps hoping you’ll eventually come around or because chasing you is so much fun), Pitou is among those who won’t take long before deciding to “take you home”.

Pitou loves having you all to herself and will be very affectionate, especially when it’s just the two of you. Maybe this sounds a little cute on principle? Yeah, trust me, it is not. It’s terrifying! Even when you reject her and she caresses your head saying you’re cute, you can see the insanity in her eyes, mixed with a sick infatuation.

It doesn’t help that, at times, her being “affectionate” involves brushing your hair, cuddling and even bathing together. Not only this invasion of space can already be uncomfortable, something about how Pitou does it makes you feel too much like a pet, especially when she talks about how much she loves you, how lovely you are, and how she is never going to let you go. In this situation, and the way she speaks, those words make you feel cold.

You should have realized by now that there is no reasoning with her and this isn’t because she is not human. Pitou is likely to twist your arguments or make points that would frankly make you think she learned from Illumi or Hisoka (and she only does that because she thinks it’s funny, anyway).

As for Pitou, well, she can’t say she is happy that you’re uncomfortable, but she believes it’s just temporary and you’ll get used to your new life… Hey, humans capture animals all the time to put them in zoos or circus. She isn’t that bad in comparison, now, is she?

She’s easily the kind of yandere that responds to pleas for freedom by caressing your head and saying you’re cute. How could she possibly let you go? You’d run away! Besides, she can keep you well-fed and protected. You say such silly things, love!

That’s not to say Pitou doesn’t have a limit to how much rejection she can take or her patience. And this is a line you don’t want to cross. It’s hard to say if Pitou would get to the point of physical punishment, but this doesn’t mean she wouldn’t make use of other means.

Menthuthyoupi.

It’s not easy to catch the attention of any of the Royal Trio, each for their own reasons. In Youpi’s case, it’s partially because he doesn’t have any human DNA on him, so despite being able to communicate and all, he doesn’t usually pay that much attention to people. It’s almost like he’s an alien (or we are, in his view). Even in a scenario when he is living in peace with humans, he doesn’t have exactly a clear opinion about them. They just exist. Maybe a few of them are okay enough, but that’s it… And in a scenario when he is still fighting them, well, they are the enemy. It’s pretty simple.

Youpi is direct, both in personality and as a Chimera Ant (in that he follows his instincts without hesitation). As such, like Pitou, he wouldn’t avoid his feelings once he comes to understand them. It’s a little strange, yes, but he accepts the fact that he loves you and that’s it. That said, Youpi would be initially confused (especially if you’re an enemy. How on Earth did he develop this sort of feeling for someone he’s supposed to kill?), and he wouldn’t make a move until he is sure of what he is feeling and what he wants.

Sadly, because this isn’t him in a healthy state of mind, this doesn’t mean anything good for you. This isn’t a shy monster-boy finding a human he considers special. This isn’t even “enemies falling in love” or “dark romance”. This is an “already dangerous individual” developing an equally dangerous obsession.

At first, Youpi starts to stalk you (if you’re his enemy/if you’ve never spoken before) or try to find excuses to spend more time with you (if you’re on friendly terms) in this attempt to understand exactly what is going on with himself. During this time, his feelings for you become stronger along with his desire to know everything about you. He’s curious. He’s fascinated. He wants to see you more often. He wants to talk with you… He just wants to be near you…

It’s pretty disturbing because, despite his size, Youpi will find the means to stalk you without anyone realizing it, just like an animal hunting. You may notice a shadow here and now, feel a chill up your spine, but it won’t be enough to make the danger clear enough. If you two are enemies, there are chances you’ll realize that there is something is wrong, as he either avoids fighting you (no issues with anyone else, though) or that he doesn’t seem to be actively trying to hurt you as much as before… Despite this, you’ll never, ever imagine he is in love with you.

Well, disturbing as it may be, it sounds almost as harmless as he can be in this scenario, right?

Not the case. You can’t forget how obsession grows, how it affects a person, and that it gets to the point when merely stalking isn’t enough. There is no such thing as a harmless yandere/stalker. So even if Youpi, at first, is satisfied with merely watching you from afar and making sure you aren’t hurt, it starts to not be enough. He sees you with your friends, smiling at them, hugging them, laughing… And he starts to imagine how it would be to have you doing these things with him, to be the one who makes you smile, to be the one holding you… And he realizes he wants it.

He loves you. He wants you.

And there is no reason to not act on those feelings.

Regardless of the circumstances between you, he seems to take the rejection well (if you manage to control the shock, act calmly and explain your reasons for it). At first, he thinks about your points and may even understand them… Only to find out that he doesn’t care. He can’t forget you. He can’t let go of you… And honestly, he doesn’t really want to. That you don’t feel the same now doesn’t matter. Don’t some couples start not feeling the same for each other, only for those feelings to change later?

In the case of “peaceful existence”, it might be easier to get a glimpse of his instability than with the Neferpitou, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Even the precautions people normally take in those situations would only work for a certain time… The myth of the animal that “will pursue its prey to the ends of the Earth once it has its scent” is true when it comes down to Youpi (literally even).

Now, while Youpi is less likely to resort to kidnapping (at least right away), he would still find ways to inject himself into your life, so even then, you can’t say you’re free. He may not go straight to threatening your loved ones (and it’s hard to predict if he would follow with it), but there are many other tactics that he could and would use.

And being less likely to kidnap you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t if he didn’t decide it is the better course of action. After all, no matter how strong you prove yourself to be, it doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. If he keeps you, he can’t make sure you’re safe.

Either way, there is no way to be free of him.

If he kidnapped you, Youpi wouldn’t go so far as to place you in an actual cage or chain you up, but he would find means to make sure you can’t leave.

He is easily the most patient of the trio, including with your rejections and attempts to escape. It doesn’t please him and nothing can convince him to let you go, but at least Youpi doesn’t get angry, condescending, or twist things around. In fact, it gets to the point when you can lose control and try hitting him that he wouldn’t even raise his voice. He would just hold your wrists (carefully) and try to calm you down…

Now, just because he isn’t human, it doesn’t mean Youpi is unable to understand that what he is doing is wrong and why you’re so unhappy. Hey, animals also don’t like to be taken from the place they consider their home like that. He can relate, he can understand. But his obsession is too great for him to let you go and, instead, he hopes that you’ll adapt with time.

Not having human genes and understanding even less about humans than Pitou and Pouf, in his desire to make you comfortable (and make you accept him), Youpi would likely try to learn what he can about humans (probably even asking for Pitou’s help).

For Youpi, your presence alone makes him feel good. While he wouldn’t force you into things that make you uncomfortable or excessively invade your personal space the way Pitou might, there would still be times when Youpi would want to show you some affection. Chances are, he would enjoy holding you close (especially because, next to him, you feel so small and cute) and nuzzling you, which is not only a common expression of affection among animals, but it also gives him an extra opportunity to enjoy your scent.

Youpi might be less cruel than most of yanderes, but this doesn’t mean much. At the end of the day, whether he has kidnapped you or not, the situation is still essentially the same. You’re being hurt either way…

Shaiapouf.

Even in his normal state of mind, for all his apparent calmness and self-control, it’s been showed several times that Pouf can be actually quite intense with his emotions, to the point they cloud his thoughts (and that’s a polite way to say it). Well, multiply that by a thousand and you’ll only scratch the surface of how he becomes as a Yandere.

Even if, by some miracle, this is a scenario where Pouf lives peacefully with humans it doesn’t mean he likes them. It’s more that he “tolerates” and “accepts” their existence as an unpleasant fact and it’s very much unlikely he would have human friends (he would probably find a way to live with comfort and luxury while having as little contact as possible with them). In a sense, you can compare him to some yokais in Inuyasha… He doesn’t go out of his way to antagonize humans (and risk a fight), but he sure as hell doesn’t care for them.

Until you, that is.

Pouf will never be able to say when his feelings for you started to grow and it will take a long time for him to understand them. By the time this happens, well, he is way into “Obsession Land”. Once he can no longer deny what he feels and it hits him that he loves you, his first reaction is… Well, pretty much an emotional tantrum, followed by self-despise and intense fury. How could he ever fall for a human? Disgraceful! Terrible! How could he fall so low? He even tries to hate you for making him feel that way, only to realize he can��t.

This lasts for a while, with him trying to convince himself to bury those feelings, no matter what it takes. If you two are enemies, be prepared: Pouf may consider killing you as the only way to “get rid of this shame”. He soon realizes he can’t bear the idea of you being hurt, let alone by him (well, like this, I mean)… But at least you’re not having to deal with his obsession yet.

Sadly, it doesn’t mean this will last long enough for something to happen before things get out of control. Pouf can’t get you out of his mind, possibly deciding to “observe you” in order to “remind himself” that you’re just a human: Flawed, inferior, and unworthy. This evolves into stalking and has the opposite effect: He becomes more and more infatuated, as well as worried that you might get hurt. You’re so beautiful, so gentle… You should not be fighting! At all! Oh, you’re an angel. No wonder he fell for you! You’re perfect for him!

If this is the “peaceful scenario”, the course of events is still pretty similar, no matter how you’ve met. At first, wanting to get you out of his system, he may be cold whenever you meet and even a little nasty, but it won’t work. He will start to long for more of your presence and if he manages to spend time with you, to consider you only of the few (if not the only) human who is better than the rest of the masses.

Either way, once he accepts that he loves you, you’re screwed.

In the “enemy scenario”, Pouf may try once to convince you to come with him, speaking highly of you and how much he loves you… In his mind, it’s poetry. In reality? The words may be pretty, but the way he says them, the shine in his eyes, the way he insists to hold your hands between his… Well, it’s creepy. Pouf may accept you denying him for a while, but it won’t take long until he seizes the first chance he has to take you. He was just being polite, offering you the chance of doing so by choice (if he does that when you’re gravely injured in a battle, he will use that frequently to point out he saved you and how you need him to keep you safe).

In the “peaceful scenario”, again, it’s not that much a different course of events. Your attempts to make him understand you’re not interested are ignored and there is precious little that anyone can do to keep you safe and, yes, including the Hunter Organization. He would do everything to get you.

In his mind, he is not doing anything wrong. If anything, his actions are almost heroic and proof of his devotion to you.

When you wake up in an unknown location and start to freak out or try to escape, Pouf reacts as if this is just adorable, then going on about how he loves you and wants to keep you safe. And let me tell you, this isn’t a “flowery speech” or like his funny moments in the anime. At this moment you realize you’re in a lot of trouble and that the chances of Pouf ever letting you go are non-existent.

It's not easy to determine exactly how deep his delusion goes; if it’s only about the “perfect life” you two will share or if it includes you. It’s not impossible that Pouf isn’t really in love with you, but rather an idealized version of you. He may also believe that, deep down, you do love him and just need time to realize it.

Pouf is the “adoring” kind of Yandere. He would love to spoil you, care for you, and would want to lavish you with gifts. Perhaps you’d expect him to be the less dangerous of the trio, or at least the most manageable, right? You’re dead wrong. Pouf is actually the worst of them, maybe even on the list of the worst yanderes of all Hunter cast.

His personality also means Pouf doesn’t believe anyone is worthy of your attention and if there is anyone you like (or that he thinks you like), it’s just because they’re manipulative and toxic. It’s his sacred duty to keep you safe from such scum! Perhaps the better term for him, rather than “jealous”, would be “possessive”. As far as he is concerned, you have no need to get in contact with another human ever again.

You thought he hated Komugi? Trust me, that was nothing compared to this.

He would lock you in a room, which you’d only leave while accompanied by him (he can’t have you trying to run off, can he?). Actually… If that happens, you should be glad. This guy isn’t above placing bars along a corner of his chambers (they are certainly large enough), turning that area into your “room” (bed and all). It certainly would appeal to him, especially since it gives him more chance to watch you.

There are stories about how excessive love can be suffocating, the “The Chaser” episode from the “Twilight Zone”… Well, Pouf’s love wouldn’t follow this line. This would be just tiresome. His adoration is frightening, even for a Yandere. The way he’s so sweet to you is mixed with a certain darkness, not letting you forget you’re dealing with an unstable person.

He understands this is a time of adaptation for you and this change of life is a shock, but he wouldn’t be happy if you asked him to let you go every day. In the same sickly-sweet way of always, he will mix subtle (or not so subtle) threats with words of adoration. Maybe he should chain you up… Maybe you’re thinking about that person who (he believes) has a crush on you? Maybe he should make sure you never think of them again…

There is also the fact that Pouf is among the Yanderes who would have almost no respect for your personal space. For all his adoration of you, he can be quite manipulative and controlling: If he wants to hold you in his lap, brush your hair, have you sleeping next to him, dance with you, well… There is little point in fighting. You would have to choose your battles wisely and keep in mind that Pouf isn’t above tying you up if you “start to be difficult”. Some Yanderes are happy enough with having you with them and may have enough patience to “wait for you to love them back”… Well, with Pouf, it depends on his mood.

There would be times when his behavior is all “patient and loving” (more like he just smiles when you try to get away or lash out)… And times when he would basically “demand” that you love him. Not with words, though: You’d learn that there are times when it’s safer for you to act a little more loving towards him (within reason) rather than antagonize him.

[stormblessed95]

Unpopular opinion I guess but I don’t see how that anon asking about Jikook and kids is homophobic. Gay and lesbian couples can’t naturally have kids, it’s a fact, no judgement here, we just can’t. And right now in most countries around the globe - even the most liberal ones - it is still extremely complicated for us to have kids, no matter how - adoption, ART, surrogate motherhood, you name it. Judging by how far South Korea is when it comes to LGBT rights, I doubt it’s an easy thing to have a kid when you’re in a same-sex relationship over there. Not completely impossible for sure, but surely very, very, very complicated. So if Jikook want to have kids in the future, it’s pretty logical that some people are wondering what about them then? I don’t want kids myself but I witnessed a gay couple around me having a crisis over this, it’s an extremely complicated issue that legitimately can create tension within the relationship - same for straight couples that can’t have kids actually. I don’t think that anon meant it in a "they can’t be gay if they want kids because gay can’t have kids" kind-of way. They can’t have them but they surely can want them but it’s not always possible to fulfill that wish unfortunately. I don’t want to be a party pooper but yes some couple may split because of this and it was not so uncommon for queer people not so long ago to "give up" on that part of themselves, to sacrifice themselves and engage in a straight relationship in order to be able to have kids. Still happens in some countries most probably. It’s a shame, it’s shocking, but it happens. Now it’s not really our business if Jikook do want to have kids or not, and it they do want kids it doesn’t mean they can’t be a couple, but I understand that it may rise some questions for some people. Even though they’re rich af, they’re still korean citizens, and I don’t see them willing to move outside of the korean borders so yes it could be a huge issue for them.

Sometimes I see Jikook blogs quick to jump to conclusions and scream about homophobia when I just don’t see it. Most Armys are quite young and from conservative countries, it’s only normal that they’re ignorant about LGBT issues. I see a lot of them willing to learn, being supportive (maybe I’m too optimistic). We all have stereotypes about this and that, it doesn’t necessarily means we’re -phobic. Heck I’m from a liberal western country, lesbian myself and I’ve said some pretty dumb things as well regarding wlw relationships. I don’t see homophobia in saying that gay people can’t have kids. I do see it when people say they shouldn’t have kids though, but it’s a different statement. It’s okay to ask questions, why always question people’s intentions? How do we expect people to learn if we relate everything regarding LGBT issues to homophobia? They’re going be afraid to ask if we keep acting this. - I’m obviously not talking about straight up crystal clear homophobic statements. Which I really don’t think anon’s question was.

Soooo I'm not sure how to totally answer this except to be totally honest with yall. Before you send an ask into a blogger about "why are you defensive?" Or "why do you all jump immediately into saying something is homophobic?" Please take a moment to really consider why that is. If you run a blog and have anon asks on, you probably already know. If you don't, let me tell you. Because there is a lot that never gets published.

For every ask yall see, there are 2 that you dont. I've answered like 800 asks at this point, so that is ALOT of asks gone unanswered that you never see. Sometimes they are innocent and just not something I feel like answering or are repeat questions or rants. Often times they are hateful. Sometimes that hate is directed at me, often it's at the members. Or it's at KMs bond. I cannot begin to tell yall the amount of asks I have gotten trying to invalidate the idea that Jimin and Jungkook could be gay, much less in a relationship with each other. Using all kinds of various reasons that simply are not reasons at all. Such as, for example, the kids thing. I have gotten asks from people saying Jimin is straight and he is going to be a wonderful dad, which would be impossible if he were gay with JK so he can't be. I've even gotten asks from Jikookers trying to disprove Taekook as a ship by saying that Tae cannot be gay because he has been very vocal about wanting kids and that would be impossible if he were gay and dating JK. Which is simply not true. I get these a couple times a month at a minimum. I get others about them being attracted to women, or pulling away from skinship, or spending time with xyz member, or looking at xyz girl group member on stage, etc etc etc. I basically delete this all the time right away because it's simply not worth it because those people don't actually care and I don't have the mental energy to sit and try and educate every anon who walks into my inbox. I have done it before and done it nicely and respectfully many times. It's exhausting. And it's constant as long as my anon asks are turned on. It's why I turn them off every now and then, to play catch up and give myself a break.

And when you are dealing with an influx of toxic anons that frankly are homophobic or just other shippers and being hateful.... can you understand how that might make you learn to be wary of all anons. It's not all anons, it's not even most anons, but there are quite a few that ruin it for everyone. So if you send in wn anon ask and it's super vague and feelings slightly leading, most of us who run these blogs and answer these questions will probably assume that you ARE trying to lead us to the answer that jikook is impossible or their is no chance that they are involved or that they are trying to invalidate them in some way. So when the ask in question was "Jimin wants kids, what about jikook?" It leaves me side eyeing the anon a little bit. The reason I answered that one at all instead of deleting it with all the rest is that it WAS vague, so I answered very generally, answering all the different ways I assumed the ask COULD be referring to. And because it does imply that if it was questioning their possible relationship, that the anon seemed to be trying to lead me to a conclusion that jikook would then be impossible, because of wanting kids. Which is very simply untrue. So unless you are clear with your ask, you run the risk of being misunderstood. And I will always err on the side of caution because of the amount of toxicity that sometimes gets into my ask box. And Im sure that is what is going on with other bloggers too. So again, I ask that please, before you assume that we all just don't care or are too quick to judge, open a KM focused blog and allow anons in for a month. Sift through all the drama and try to understand what we all are working with.

So while I don't think you are necessarily wrong, I do think my opinion stands that if the idea of either of them wanting children or liking children or speaking very generally about bangtans future children makes the idea of them being gay and/or being together questionable, that does sit in the realm of homophobia. And assuming every anon has good intentions just isn't possible. If you want to send an ask or a message outside of anonymous mode, it does make it easier to trust your intentions behind the ask because you are assigning your name/handle to it. And while there is nothing wrong with keeping things anonymous, I keep them on for a reason, you just have to accept that unless your intentions are very clear and easy to read (this has nothing to do with what language you speak btw, please don't worry about that), most bloggers will probably be a little wary of you. And with the kids one in question, I was nice, I kept things generalized and answered the question in ways that would have had nothing to do with questioning the validity of their possible relationship as well as the ones where the intention would have been to do that.

Hope that all makes sense and helps you, anon, and everyone else who sees this understand why sometimes JKK blogs are quick to get defensive or to not just implicitly trust in everyone's good intentions. Please remember that we who do these blogs are human too, and answer these asks in our spare time. Hope everyone has a lovely day 💜

[stargazing-enby]

I had a dream that harry and draco were both aurors and they were married to ginny and astoria and then got sent to a mission and they had to do a steak out????? But ofc there was tension so they were like uuuuhhhhh we should bring our wives bc uuuuhhh we cant be away from them too long ya know and they all spend a month or two in a house and shit and ginny and astoria fall in love and bc theyre badass ladies they are upfront about it and then harry and draco are like.... Guess we should a dress

our thing too huh?? And then albus and scorpious have 2 moms and 2 dads (ginny and astoria were both pregnant btw, dont know if i already said that) and it was weirdly amazing and i didnt know who else to tell so yea

***

Anon, your mind. First of all, thanks so much for sharing your dream with me because it's honestly amazing. Second of all, I was re-reading your asks the other day wondering if I should try to write this, and soon after that I took the (ill-advised) decision to take a nap and started dreaming about your prompt. Now I feel like I share a special, oneiric connection with you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2.3k | Teen and Up | Falling in Love, Break Up, Getting Together, Kid Fic, Pregnancy | Read on AO3

At first, Ginny had been mad. Offended, even, that her husband had thought it a great idea to make her share a house with Astoria Malfoy for Merlin knew how long while he and Draco ran off to chase some suspect.

“The only thing that woman and I have in common is that we're pregnant,” Ginny had argued, “and that we're both married to bloody idiots!” 

Three weeks into the stakeout, however, Ginny had to admit she’d been wrong. Although wrong wasn't perhaps the most accurate of word choices, since she and Astoria were, like she’d suspected, completely different kinds of people. Where Ginny was passionate and intense, Astoria was quiet, an aura of serenity always surrounding her. Where Ginny bickered and joked and threw jibes around with her husband whenever she had the chance, Astoria was all subtle touches; a small caress to Draco's shoulder before they left home in the morning, a careful take care whispered in his ear. 

Where Ginny was fire, Astoria was water: cleansing and soothing and calm. 

But she had been utterly, dangerously wrong in that she couldn’t help but find Astoria Malfoy intoxicating. 

“Darling.” Astoria had recently taken to calling her that when they were on their own, in a tone that Ginny could not bring herself to believe to be purely neutral. “Are you sure you're not tired? I sincerely doubt they'll arrive before dawn this morning—we don't have to stay awake if you don't want to.”

“No, no—” Ginny couldn’t help but shiver as the small realisation washed over her for seemingly the hundredth time that night: the realisation that Harry, as much as she adored him, could not have had any less to do with her wanting to stay awake. “I don't want to give up the chance to beat you one more time.” 

Astoria smiled at her, cheeky.

“Very well,” she said, and, after a moment, moved one of her knights on the board. She didn't take her eyes off Ginny as the Knight destroyed one of Ginny's pawns; her eyes sparkled with naughty mirth, and Ginny's breath caught. 

A moment later, a wave of guilt drowned the butterflies in her stomach, and Ginny looked down at the chess board and told herself that she was in love with her husband. Utterly, helplessly in love. 

Except you aren't, a little voice said. You love him. You love him more than anything. You’ve loved him since forever; you'll love him for forever, because he'll always be the person who gave you your son. But you are not in love with him anymore. You haven't been for a while now. 

“Ginny.” 

She raised her head. 

“You're not thinking about the game.” 

It wasn't a question. 

Astoria knew. She wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't meant to be calling Ginny darling, knew of the emotions—deep, fierce, raging—that ran under Ginny's skin whenever they shared a smile, a look; whenever one's fingertips found the other's knuckles and their knees brushed and bumped almost on their own accord in the middle of their nightly conversations. 

“I'm not,” Ginny said. “I'm thinking about us.” 

Astoria let out a breath, shoulders sagging. She looked down, but Ginny waited, gaze steady, for Astoria to look back up at her. 

“It's late,” Astoria said after a moment. 

“I think I'm falling in love with you.”

Astoria closed her eyes, a slow frown twisting her sharp features. 

“I know.” It was barely a murmur. 

“I know you know,” Ginny said, a challenge. 

Astoria met her gaze, then, and Ginny's resolve wavered when she realised just how terrified Astoria was.

“Hey,” Ginny murmured, standing up. Astoria, lips trembling, buckled over to make room for her in the settee. “Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry—” 

“It's not your fault.” Even though her head was turned away from Ginny, Astoria leaned into her touch. “None of this is your fault. Draco is—” Her voice broke, and Ginny held her hand with both of hers, aching, yearning to hold Astoria in her arms and take the pain away. But she couldn't. “Draco is a wonderful man. He's attentive, and loving, and he's funny, and…”

A tear fell into Astoria's shirt over her tummy. 

“And he's my best friend. But he and I are not in love. We never have been.”

That caught Ginny off-guard. 

“Never?” 

Astoria laughed, a broken, pathetic sound. 

“Never. Our parents planned our union soon after I left Hogwarts. I was horrified at first, but after getting to know him, there was a time when I really thought I would fall in love with him in time. That he'd fall in love with me. And we did end up loving each other, mind you: he will always be my closest friend. It's just not…”

“Yeah,” Ginny said softly. “I understand.”

Astoria turned to look at her, then. Seeing her teared up made something inside Ginny snap, and she reached out, held Astoria's cheeks in her hands, thumbing at her messy tears. 

“Harry and I were in love for a long time, but… I think he knows just as well as I do that the love we feel now is purely platonic.” She smiled—chuckled. “In fact, a small part of me suspects whatever he feels for Draco right now is more intense than what he ever felt for me.” 

That tore a laugh out of Astoria. 

“I would not be surprised if that was the case. Those two…” She shook her head. “They're incorrigible.”

Ginny groaned in agreement. A moment later, though, her smile faded away and she was left with Astoria's face cradled in her hands. Their legs pressed together, their eyes searching the other's face. Scared, but hopeful. 

Sliding her hands down Astoria's neck and shoulders, and then squeezing her arms, Ginny let out a slow, deep breath. 

“I think we need to have a conversation with our husbands.”

***

“You… What?” 

To Harry's credit, he looked more baffled than anything else. 

“We're in love,” Astoria repeated, voice steady, but gaze pleading with Draco to understand. 

“I… Okay. Okay. Give me one second.” Harry turned around and sat down on the nearest chair. 

Draco remained still. As far as Ginny was aware, he’d barely even blinked since they'd started explaining the situation to them.

“Are you going to say anything?” Harry asked after a moment, turning to Draco. When Draco shook his head, gaze still fixed in some distant point in space, Harry stood again, leaning his weight against the table. “Okay, so first of all, this is all extremely awkward.” 

“We were aware of that much, thank you,” Astoria said. 

“I mean, both of you are pregnant. With our babies.” He gestured between him and Draco. “Not to mention that we're married, although that's slightly less permanent…” 

Draco huffed, and the three of them turned to him. When he didn't say anything, Harry continued. 

“But I guess it… makes sense? I mean—you two are sort of like… the perfect opposites, you know. I always knew you would get on well. I didn't suspect you'd get on this well, but, hey—” 

“Have you—” Draco's head seemed to be stuck mid-shake, eyes scrunched closed. “Have you done anything? With one another?” 

“No, darling.” The word sounded different, Ginny thought, when Astoria used it for Draco. “We were waiting to tell you.” 

He nodded, but didn't say anything else. When Astoria approached him, Ginny took a step back to give them some space and leaned into the table with Harry. 

“I love you,” she told him. 

“And I you,” Harry said, eyes low. Gulping, he took Ginny's hand in his. “But… I mean, I think both of us had noticed that something was… that something wasn't…” 

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I know.” 

He looked up at her, and Merlin, he looked so, so vulnerable in that moment that Ginny wished more than ever that she could love him the way he deserved to be loved. But that simply wasn’t for her to do.

“I still would like for us to raise our son together,” he murmured. 

“We will. Harry, I don't care what happens from now on. You're still my best friend, and you're still the father of my kid. Nothing is going to change that. Okay?” 

Harry nodded, and, biting his lip, turned his gaze to Draco and Astoria. After a moment, Ginny did too. 

Draco was crying. 

“Come on, let's give them some space,” she said, pushing herself off the table. Harry followed her out of the room. 

***

“Draco…”

No reply came. Harry looked at him, but Draco's gaze was fixed somewhere outside the car window. 

They'd spent countless hours inside that car, in that very watch post. Hours chatting, and bickering, and taking turns to sleep while the other watched the house for any signs of activity. 

It had never been awkward before now. 

“Look, we need to talk,” Harry said. Draco huffed, unamused. “We need to talk because we both know our wives are not the only ones who’d noticed something wasn’t right before yesterday’s conversation. They were just the only ones brave enough to be upfront about it.” 

In the moment it took Draco to turn around, Harry thought of Draco's head on his shoulder; of the way it had felt when Draco had fallen asleep there, of the way he'd been so careful not to let it fall so Draco wouldn't wake up. He thought of the way their arms brushed whenever they walked, wands in hand, toward a dangerous location. Thought of the very reason they'd been so adamant that their wives should come with them on this mission: a truth they'd refused to confront, and that had gone and slapped them in the face anyway. 

“Do you understand how terrifying this is for me?” Draco finally said, body turned to Harry, but gaze fixed on his knees. “To know that my life as I know it, as I always expected it to be, is over? Do you think”—he looked up at Harry, and Merlin, he looked so scared Harry had to hold back from reaching out to him—“that I haven't noticed that I'm in love with Harry Potter, and not with the woman I'm about to have a baby with?” 

Harry held his breath. Searched in Malfoy's eyes, desperately, for any hint that he was about to take back his words. Then, almost out of breath:

“I'm in love with you too.”

Draco let out a desperate laugh. 

“I know that, you bloody idiot,” he choked out. “Fuck, I know.”

Harry bit his lip. Reached out, rested a hand over Draco's trembling, fisted own. 

For a few moments, neither spoke. 

“I'm sorry,” Harry murmured eventually. “I'm sorry things can't be different.” 

Draco started playing with Harry's fingers, and Harry closed his eyes—marvelled in how warm Draco's hands felt. How careful they were even as he fidgeted. 

“I'm glad they told us,” Draco said. “I want Astoria to be happy, and I know she'd never be completely happy with me.” A sigh. “I wouldn't, either. Not with her. I just… I need some time to come to terms with it.” 

Harry's fingers turned and turned between Draco's nervous own. 

“That's okay. I don't mind waiting for you.”

Their eyes met. 

“Okay,” Draco said. 

Harry squeezed his hand. Smiled. 

“Okay.”

***

The whoosh of the hearth letting someone through was quickly followed by two high-pitched squeals. By two very excited cries of, “Daddy!” 

Harry smiled to himself when he heard Draco's laughter coming from the living room as he—presumably—was tackled to the floor by Albus and Scorpius. 

“Boooys,” Harry called after a moment. “Come grab some cookies from the kitchen!” 

A few seconds later, the two five-year-old tornadoes were rushing toward the tray, barely sparing Harry a glance. Harry shook his head, grinning. 

“Where's my hug?” 

“Daddy!” Albus, face already full of crumbs, ran toward Harry's arms. “Your cookies are the best!” 

“Mmh!” Scorpius agreed. 

“I'm glad you like them.” Harry ruffled Al's hair. “Do save some for later, though!” 

Draco walked in, grabbed a cookie. “How are your mums?” he asked while he gave Harry a sonorous kiss on the cheek, the crumbs on Draco’s mouth scratching against his stubble. 

Harry was about to complain when Albus stretched his arms out, asking to be picked up. 

“They have a date today,” he—quite loudly—whispered in Harry's ear. 

“Do they, now!” 

“A date in a restawant with candles and a lot of different forks,” Albus explained. “And—and they were wearing really pretty dresses!” 

“Really? What colour?” Draco asked, picking Scorpius up too. 

“Mum's was red,” Scorpius said. “And mummy's was, uh, it was really pretty, and—” 

“And sparkly!” Albus squealed. “Black and sparkly!” 

“Wow! I don’t think Draco and I own anything so pretty!” Harry turned to Draco. “What do you think?” 

“Hmmm…” Draco dragged the sound out, sharing a mischievous look with Scorpius. “I’m not sure… I think we might have some sparkly garments hidden in the back of our wardrobe, but I’m sure Al and Scorp won’t be interested in—”

“We want to see!” Scorpius screamed, wiggling in his father’s arms. 

“We want to see, we want to see!” Albus chanted.

Harry and Draco shared a smile. 

“Very well, then,” Draco said solemnly, setting Scorpius down. “Let’s see which of you can find the prettiest clothes in our bedroom for us to wear today.” 

The kids darted upstairs, and, before following them, Harry took Draco’s hand in his and kissed his husband’s cheek in return.

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part four

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: super fun chapter, we got some more secret things revealed and some fluff and emosh AND some smut AAAANNNNDDD some drama so really, what more could ya want. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one | part two | part three

When Bucky invites you to another party, you don’t pretend you’re not apprehensive about it. The last one didn’t go badly, per se, but it certainly led to some less-than-favourable events which you’d rather not repeat. Bucky pouts, though, gives you big blue puppy eyes and kisses down your neck and chest and across your stomach until his head’s between your legs and you’re saying yes yes yes without any awareness to what you’re agreeing to.

It’s not at Natasha’s house this time, and it’s nothing like that last party. Bucky takes you to a basement bar in Brooklyn, holding your hand as you descend the stairs behind him into moody lighting and deafening levels of classic rock. Something’s different about this night - you can tell in the stiff lines of Bucky’s shoulders under his leather jacket, the tight grip he keeps as he tugs you into his side, the way everyone seems to falter for a beat and stare as Bucky enters the room. There are a lot of scary looking people in here, you realise, and all their eyes are on you.

It’s a relief to see Natasha’s red head weaving through muscles and leather towards you, and that really says something.

To your surprise, she loops her arm in yours just like at the last party and tugs you from Bucky’s side. You hesitate, gripping Bucky’s hand tighter and looking up at him for some kind of nonverbal explanation. He releases your fingers, grazing his hand from yours in a slow slide, and just stares back at you. Sorry, he mouths, and then you lose his head in the crowd of equally tall, muscular men as Natasha drags you further into the bar.

“Let’s get some drinks,” she says, pushing aside two men twice her size to stand at the bar and tap her violet nails on the countertop. You are, as per usual around this woman, lost for words.

“Is Bucky-?” You don’t even know what you want to ask. You’re quickly realising this isn’t a party just to have fun with friends. This is something outside your world, something you don’t understand, and the way Natasha looks at you all shadowed and shuttered confirms it.

“He’ll be back,” is all she says, and nudges a vodka shot towards you. She doesn’t pay, you notice, just taps the glass on the counter and clinks it with yours before throwing it back. You do the same, hissing at the burn, and watch as she orders two more. It’s very Russian, you think, and file that away for later. You down your second shot without a flinch this time.

“Why am I here?” you ask Natasha, scanning the bar before you as if the answer will arise from the crowd.

“You want to be in Bucky’s life?” Natasha raises her eyebrows at you, gestures to the bar with a flick of her wrist and says, “This is a part of it.”

You hum in way of answer, letting that sit with the burning vodka-warmth in your chest starting to slowly drip down, down, down to your toes. This is what you chose - shady rooms with shady men and more questions than answers. A tormenting nightmare for someone as paranoid and curious as you, is probably what your dad would say if he was here but he’s not, so you ignore that little voice and try to find Bucky in the crowd.

Before you can, Sam comes barrelling over to the two of you with his arms held wide. Natasha shies away from him but he sweeps her into a hug anyway, her unimpressed scowl peaking over the top of a muscular arm and making you giggle despite yourself. Sam ruffles her hair and Natasha genuinely looks like she’s about to murder him - you cover your mouth with your hand, far too amused at the interaction for your own safety.

“Welcome!” Sam yells to you, also pulling you into a crushing hug. He moves away, leaving a hand clapped on your shoulder, and asks, “Having fun?”

“We just arrived,” you say, “But the shots are doing wonders for me.”

“Good, have more!” Sam says, and to your absolute horror, reaches over the bar and grabs the bottle of vodka to sloppily pour in your empty shot glass. He tops Natasha up too, and you must look as scandalised as you feel because she starts laughing and nudges Sam, who throws you a charming grin. “Relax! I own the place.”

“Oh,” you say, more than relieved. That didn’t come up on your search, you think, and try to squash that thought down as quickly as it comes. You’re not investigating them anymore, there’s no need to file information away on them like it’s an open case. Smiling, you say, “Well, in that case,” and down the shot Sam and just poured you. You’re on a one-way ticket to tipsy town and you don’t plan on hopping off anytime soon.

Sam leads you to a booth where Steve and one of the regulars from your time watching his tattoo shop sit. He’s got dirty blonde hair and a plaster on his forehead, waving his hands around as he tells a story which makes Steve belly-laugh. You slide in the end after Natasha, the seat opposite you open for whenever Bucky comes back. You wish he’d hurry up, ignoring their conversation in favour of searching the crowd for his dumb head. Out of your depth didn’t even begin to cover what you felt sitting here with Bucky’s friends in Sam’s bar with a bunch of bikers milling around, watching you all like hawks.

“New girl,” the guy you don’t know says, pointing the straw he’d been fiddling with at you. Natasha smacks him upside the head and he barely flinches, like it happens all the time. He says, “Verse me in darts.”

The entire table groans, and the guy throws his hands in the air and scowls at everyone as he cries, “What? None of you lot will play with me anymore.”

“That’s because you’re a master archer, you dickhead,” Sam says, throwing a balled up napkin at the guy’s head. He doesn’t bother dodging it, letting it hit him square on the nose as he turns to you and waggles his eyebrows.

“Whaddya say? No better bonding activity, I reckon,” he says. You dart looks around the table, catching Steve giving you a cut-throat motion and Natasha shaking her head with an eyeroll.

“I’ll start with your name first,” you say, “Then we can move onto darts.”

He introduces himself as Clint, reaching across the table and knocking over Steve’s glass in the process to shake your hand. Everyone devolves into complaints and arguments about Clint ‘taking advantage’ of new people and feeding his ego with ‘easy wins.’ Nonetheless, your small group vacates the booth and moves to the dart board near the pool tables at the back of the bar. The group already there stop playing mid-game and move off as you approach, which is weird and keeps happening so you think it might be something you’ll have to find the guts to ask Bucky about later. Right now, though, Clint is pushing darts into your hand with a smirk and lining up to go first, despite Steve’s exasperated yell of ladies first!

Clint lands a bullseye with his first dart and does a little victory dance on the spot. His friends groan, clearly having seen this too many times. Three bullseye’s later, he’s moving off the mark and opening it up to you with a low, theatrical bow. You curtsy and take his spot, earning a laugh out of Sam and Steve.

“Archery, huh?” you question as you line up your shot, tongue poking out slightly as you concentrate.

“Natasha calls me her very own Robin Hood,” Clint says, and you’re not facing him but you know Natasha throws something at him if his yelp of pain is anything to go by. Wheezing slightly, Clint adds, “Don’t feel bad when you lose.”

“Hmm,” you say, smirking at the dart board. But before you can throw, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye - close cropped hair and a familiar leather jacket weaving it’s way towards you. You turn to Bucky, leaning into him as he slides a hand up your back, over your shoulders to rest on the nape of your neck and tangle in your hair. You hate the way you melt into his side, because everyone’s watching and Natasha is smirking and you should be embarrassed, but. But but but. You missed him, just a bit, and you feel him relax with you in his arms like maybe he missed you a bit, too.

“How did Barton con you into darts, huh?” Bucky asks, looking down to you and the darts still clutched in your hand. You shrug as much as you can under his arm and grin, maybe a bit looser with the shots, but that’s nobody’s business. Bucky is laughing slightly at you but you can’t bring yourself to care when he uses his grip on your neck to spin you around, hands moving to rest on your hips and position you on the mark.

“Not fair! Interference!” Clint calls out, and you feel Bucky’s chest rumble with a laugh from where he’s pressed up behind you. Bucky is supposed to be helping but all you feel is distracted, hazy focus and burning heat starting from your toes and working up to pool in your stomach.

“Oh now you care about fairness,” Sam says, and the group behind you devolves into a loud argument with plenty of name calling.

You’re not paying attention to them, though, as you bring your arm up to aim and Bucky grips your elbow, fixing your form. His breath is hot against your ear as he ducks down, smiling into your skin, and you feel yourself shiver against him. Bucky says low in your ear, “Don’t close your eyes.”

“Thanks for the advice,” you say flatly, and finally shrug him off. He steps back with a laugh, dragging his hands from your hips slowly so you can still feel his fingers long after they’re gone. You take a steady breath and narrow your eyes at the board. You throw, and in a blink your dart is buried in it’s red centre. The argument behind you comes to an abrupt stop.

“Fluke!” Clint sputters in to the silence, pointing wildly at the board as you turn to him. You raise your eyebrows and he flails his arm, nearly smacking Steve in the face. “Barnes helped you!”

“Hardly,” Bucky snorts. You grin at Clint, all teeth, and Clint’s expression drops almost comically as you wink at him.

“Don’t feel bad when you lose,” you tell him, and then proceed to fling your two remaining darts into a neat little cluster on the bullseye in quick succession. Clint shuts up properly this time.

While Steve and Sam descend on Clint to heckle him to an early grave, Natasha grins over at you and says, “You are full of surprises.”

“Not really,” you shrug, “Just learnt to throw knives with my dad instead of throwing balls with my non-existent friends. Nothing interesting.”

“Respectfully disagree,” Bucky murmurs, and suddenly you’re drawn into that ocean-deep stare of his where the rest of the bar ceases to exist. Bucky steps closer and you meet him halfway, the shouts of his friends and the rock music blaring through the speakers and the clink of glasses fades to a dull buzz. Maybe you had one too many shots, because you find yourself swaying into Bucky as he tugs you by the belt loops, or maybe that’s just Bucky you’re drunk on. Now that you’d allowed yourself to fall you were falling fast, a weightless come-up, not a single thought about the crash waiting for you at the end.

Bucky doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, always tethered to you somehow, and its alarming how quickly you’ve grown used to having him next to you. Attuned to him, turning when he does and shifting to his every movement so you fit together, his hand in yours or your back to his chest or tucking yourself under his arm. Bucky is just so warm, is all, and under the bulk of his touch you can almost forget where you are, who you’re with.

That is, until a broad man in a leather jacket much like Bucky’s comes up to your booth and leans down to talk in Bucky’s ear. You’re pressed to his side, head tucked against his shoulder while you lazily follow Sam and Steve’s conversation with your eyes half-closed - the vodka is catching up and you’re getting sleepy as the night wears on. The smell of cigarettes and an unfamiliar voice brings you back to the bar, however, and you’re close enough to be able to hear Bucky and the man’s hushed exchange.

“S’done, boss,” the man says, “twenty-three-forty hours, no witnesses.”

“Y’sure?” Bucky murmurs, and the man must nod or something because you feel Bucky clap the man on the shoulder and he walks off, the cloud of cigarette smoke leaving with him. Bucky twists to look down at you on his shoulder only to find you already looking up at him. He is impassive as you stare at him for a few, silent beats before he asks, “Ready to go?”

It takes an hour to extract yourselves from Bucky’s friends and all the people he has to say goodbye to on his way out, and then you’re on Bucky’s bike with your head tucked against his back as he roars through the few blocks back to his apartment. Bucky busies himself flicking lights on and rummaging in his pantry for food while you collapse on the couch, flinging an arm over your eyes. After a few beats you feel him start to unlace your boots, easing them off your feet and throwing them towards the front door. You peak out from under your arm to grin at him, wiggling your toes in his face when your feet are free, and he shoves at them with one big hand and a smile.

Retaliation comes in the form of him throwing his huge, muscled body on top of yours and squashing you into the couch, knocking the breath out of you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck and lies there, snaking his arms under your body in a bear hug that leaves you breathless in more ways than one. The moment stretches on, both of you slightly dozing in the early morning hours, until the niggling in your brain gets too insistent and you can’t hold it in any longer.

“When were you gonna tell me tonight was an alibi?” you ask, hating the way Bucky’s body stiffens on top of you. He slowly raises his head, resting his stumbling chin against your collarbone and scanning your face with those puppy eyes you see in your dreams, now.

“You’re too smart for me,” he sighs, rolling off you slightly so you can shift onto your side and face him, two half-brackets on the couch. Bucky says, “You know what I do. You were- I said you could leave.”

“It’s not what you do,” you say, shaking your head of the concept of leaving. “It’s being kept in the dark. I just wanna know, I hate not knowing.”

“Too dangerous,” Bucky says, mirroring you as he shakes his head, “The more you know the worse it is.”

“Don’t care,” you say, raising an eyebrow in challenge when Bucky opens his mouth to argue. You press your palm to his cheek, scratching into the short hairs above his ear and dragging your nail over the silvery-scar there where hair won’t grow. Bucky’s eyes flutter shut, eyelashes delicate against the papery skin under his eyes, and you marvel at how soft the looks up close. Only tough from far away, you think. Only soft for you.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Bucky says, keeping his eyes closed.

“I figure out secrets for a living, Bucky,” you sigh, “I don’t wanna do that with you as well.”

He looks at you then, the world narrowing to his eyes burning your skin and his breath against your lips. He kisses you, rough stubble and soft lips. Your lips part with a sigh and he rolls on top of you again, hands rucking up under your top to grip your bare waist and hold you there, pressing kiss after kiss on your mouth like he can brand you with just his lips alone.

“You’ll stay?” he murmurs against your mouth, “The night?”

You know what he’s asking. Will you stay, will you listen to the terrible things he’s done and the things he will do and stay anyway, will you let him into your bed and your heart and trust someone you should be afraid of? You kiss him, digging your nails into the side of his neck to hold him there.

“Yeah,” you say, pressing your face against his cheek to kiss the rough skin, murmur words against the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile, “I’ll stay.”

***

The first time you wake up next to Bucky he’s still asleep, lying on his stomach with his cheek smashed into the pillow. One big arm is flung out over your stomach, trapping you to the bed as you blink awake but the heavy weight is comforting. You twist under him to lie on your side, tucking your arms against your bare chest, and watch him sleep like a genuine pyscho. You don’t care. His face is relaxed when he sleeps, peaceful - he looks so beautiful. You want to remember this forever.

Sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the tips of his short hair golden. Pouty lips part, soft in sleep, and there’s a tiny bit of drool pooling on the pillowcase you find yourself smiling at, even though it’s gross. He’s all tan muscles and tattoos lying naked next to you, and you take to tracing the ink on his skin with yours in an attempt to memorise them. His left arm is flung over you, the arm with the sleeve, and the closer you look the more you realise the tattoos cover not just skin, but scars. Old and faded but still there under swirling lines of storm clouds and skulls and the red star in the centre of his deltoid.

How had you missed this? Maybe you hadn’t been looking before, but you’re looking now. From surprisingly thin wrist to meaty shoulder where muscles are bunched and gnarled under a flowery piece which extends down his chest and across his back. His sleeve is a beautiful piece covering not-so-beautiful, painful looking burns and lines and marks you can’t tear your eyes from.

“Stop staring, y’creep,” Bucky mumbles into the pillow, startling you. He grins, eyes closed, and you reach out to whack his side. With the arm across your waist he drags you into him, rolling onto his back and dragging you across his chest without ever opening his eyes. He hugs you close, legs tangling, and doesn’t appear to want to wake up - rather he just holds you and attempts to doze off again, lips pressed against your forehead in a sleepy, lazy kiss.

That won’t do. You’re awake and now effectively trapped - Bucky doesn’t get to go back to sleep like this. With your new vantage point on his chest, you start kissing slow and heady across his skin. Under his collarbone, his shoulder, beside one of the wolves tattooed on his skin making up half his chest piece. Goosebumps form a trail where your lips have been and you grin, victorious. Bucky shivers as you drag your teeth from his peck to his nipple, giving it a quick flick of your tongue. That seals the deal.

Bucky grips the back of your head, fisting your hair and pulling your head up to look at him. Eyes cracked open and bleary with sleep, he glares at you but with no heat. Well, there’s heat. He licks his lips and you track the motion, hungry. Bucky’s lips stretch in a smirk as he watches you watch him. His other hand travels down your back to grip your ass and pull you up in a straddle across his hips.

He pulls you into a kiss and you go willingly with a hand braced on his chest, licking lazy into his mouth. He tastes like sleep and so do you but you really couldn’t care less. His mouth is hot and his skin is sun warmed, strong and smooth under your body, seeping into you so it feels like you’re holding the sun inside you. He pushes the warmth into you; tongue in your mouth, squeezing your neck, kneading your ass under one giant palm. Morning sex, you think, is possibly the best thing in this world.

Bucky hums against your mouth and shifts, sliding his hand back down your ass to rub his middle finger against your cunt. You gasp, and he bits your lip as you open to him. The contrast of pain and pleasure as he slips a finger inside you is brain-melting. All that heat is concentrated now in the pit of your belly and you roll back against Bucky’s hand, nipping at his jaw when he huffs a laugh at you.

You slide a hand up his neck and into his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp and leaving hot, open mouthed kissed down his jaw, neck, chest - wherever you can reach. When Bucky doesn’t move, just leaves you to grind against his finger, you get frustrated and start using your teeth. He’ll be littered with little bruises soon and he clenches his fist in your hair, tugging in warning, but you keep going. So Bucky groans, slides his hand around to your neck and squeezes until you come to a shuddering stop, panting against his chest. He pulls you up to look at him, smirking at the glassy look in your eyes, and pushes another finger into your cunt without warning.

That makes you moan, which makes Bucky grin because he’s a smug bastard and can never let you win. You can’t remember why you were frustrated anymore, though - you’ve got pinpricks of pleasure bursting all over your skin, from your nail beds to your scalp to the back of your teeth. Bucky tugs you by the neck until he can catch you in a sloppy kiss, tongue too deep and too much teeth but you live for it. He removes his fingers from inside you and you whine into his mouth, clenching your fingers in his hair and your cunt on nothing but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Bucky’s there, he’s pushing into you and you forget how to kiss for a second as all your executive function concentrates on the feeling of Bucky’s dick in you.

It’s slow, sticky with sweat from the too-bright sun on your back, sweet in the way Bucky releases your neck and lies fully back on the pillow just to stare up at you. You sit up in his lap and grind your hips slow, letting your hands rest light on his chest as the urgency dissipates into simple, syrupy-soft want. He runs his hands up and down your thighs and your sensitive skin erupts like starbursts, urging you to slide up and down on his cock just to feel the drag inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You lean forward on him, the angle gets deeper, you stop feeling your toes as the ecstasy snaps up your spine in hot waves.

“Look at me,” Bucky says, voice low and rough with the first words of the day. You hadn’t realised your eyes were closed and they flutter open, barely focusing on the pink pout of his mouth and hazy lust in his eyes. “Look at me, honey.”

“Bucky,” you say in response, any other words lost to you. He slides a hand from your thigh up your stomach, muscles clenching against his touch as you ride him, to cup one of your tits and squeeze. He rolls his thumb over your nipple and you moan, head lolling back on a limp neck and hair tickling your bare back. But you remember what he asked and you come back, eyes finding his and they seem to darken, then, as you keep yourself locked on him.

It’s spilling over. That heat that’s been building since you first woke up is trying to go supernova. Bucky moves to rest one big palm on your back and pushes, rising up to meet you as he squashes your bodies together, seam for sweat-slicked seam. You’re limp against him as he takes over and starts a faster, steadier rhythm. He pounds into you, the only sound in the quiet morning being the slap of your ass against his thighs and it should be kind of embarrassing but you’re way too far gone for that. You unspool with his arm wrapped around you, shuddering against his chest but he doesn’t let you go anywhere. Bucky comes soon after with a groan you swallow as you kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him until your lips feel numb and your muscles stop shaking.

“Good morning,” you murmur, licking into his smile as he laughs at you.

“Good morning,” he replies, and smacks your ass for emphasis. You yelp and jerk forward at the impact, still sensitive and he’s still inside you. He moans at the friction and you feel heat start trickling against your thighs. It should be gross but somehow it’s insanely hot and you feel yourself clenching just imagining what his come dripping out of you would look like - that’s when you know you need some divine intervention, because you are too far off the deep end.

Bucky holds you tighter to keep you still, leaning back into the pillows to glare at you and say, “Gotta stop that, honey,” because apparently he’s also too sensitive. You start to smile, a little evil and a lot still-turned-on.

“What, this?” You roll your hips slow, all you can manage since you’re a bit worn out yourself, and Bucky legitimately growls. With a very un-sexy screech you find yourself flipped and on your back, Bucky’s cock slipping out of you and his body pressing you firmly into the mattress. He rests on his elbows either side of your head, dipping down to kiss you, and you hum at the feeling of him sliding a thigh between your legs.

“You’re a menace,” he grumbles, eyes flickering open to mock-glare at you. He’s so close that you feel kind of cross-eyed as you stare back.

“I think you like it, tough guy,” you tease. Bucky rolls his eyes but he doesn’t deny it, and you count that as a win.

Bucky finger-fucks you like that, trapped against his mattress and his stupid-soft lips leaving kisses over every inch of your skin. He has to carry you to the shower when you come again, announcing your legs are jelly and it’s his fault so he has to help you or he’s a bad person. He swings you over his shoulder and slaps your ass, calls you a brat, and you bite his shoulder in retaliation.

The shower is more of a water fight than anything else, after that.

“I like waking up to you,” you say once you’re dressed and coffee-d and fed, leaning against his doorway with a squeak of leather from your jacket. Bucky leans against the doorframe over you, dressed in fresh sweats and really threatening your resolve to go get some work done today. You feel soft, undone after this morning, looking up at him and telling him things your self-preservation instincts yell at you to keep to yourself.

“I could get used to it,” Bucky grins, and you punch him on the arm but there’s no force to it. He tugs you in for a hug goodbye, arm slung over your shoulders and ruffling your hair with his stupidly big hand until you squirm away from him. He laughs and you push him, propelling yourself backwards into the hall - mostly so you don’t grab onto his t-shirt and never leave.

“See you later?” You mean it to come out as an offhand statement but your nerves shake through. Bucky’s kilowatt smile breaks through all that fear of rejection and he nods.

“‘Course,” he says, tilting his head, “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Shit,” you say, shaking your head and his laugh follows you all the way down the stairs to the ground floor.

You hesitate at the bottom the stairs. To your left is the laundry room and your familiar route out of Bucky’s apartment building, through the window and the gym parking lot to the block over. Knowing who Bucky is now, what he does, means you have even more reason than ever before to turn that way and keep being a paranoid freak. But it’s mid-morning, now. Someone walks past you up the stairs, the lobby is lit with sunlight, there’s traffic noise and people’s voices and life inside this building. Mid-morning feels very different to three AM.

You’ve just woken up next to Bucky because he likes you, like that, and that makes you brave. You turn right and push out the front door, jogging down the steps to the street with a stupid smile on your face. You shove your hands in your pockets because despite the sunlight it’s still kind of chilly, and you turn to walk towards your apartment for a fresh change of clothes before heading to the office. Your brain still feels like it’s lying in bed next to Bucky, but you try and focus yourself back to the present.

Theres a guy leaning against the building next to Bucky’s, and he stubs his cigarette out as you walk past. When you pass by a parked car a few more buildings down you see in their side mirror that he’s started walking your direction. Stop being crazy, you tell yourself, one time using the front door like a normal person and you freak out, but you keep tabs on him as you walk. Bucky and his room and his touch start to fade from your mind as the stranger does not fade - not into the crowd, not down another street or into a building. He keeps walking, because he’s following you, and that might be paranoia speaking but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

You reach into your pocket for your phone but find yourself hesitating before calling Bucky. You’d only just gotten to the point where you feel comfortable to stay with him, to push past your walls and Bucky’s and dive head-first into whatever this is going to be between you. Telling Bucky someone is tailing you from his apartment would probably build those walls right back up, from both sides. The dark, twisted part of your brain supplies - what if it’s Bucky who’s sent this guy to follow you?

The phone rings one, twice, and picks up on the third. There’s a shuffle, a muttered curse, and you smile before your dad says, “Kroshka, sorry, I dropped the remote. How are you?”

“Great, papa,” you say, a bit louder than necessary, turning your head slightly to look across the street and so your voice travels behind you. Out of the corner of your eye you see your tail slow down, linger back further, when he realises you’re talking to someone who would notice if you suddenly dropped off the line. “What’re you up to?”

“Nothing, it’s early,” he says, sounding a bit suspicious, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “Just wondering if you wanted to get lunch today.”

“Of course,” he replies, and you turn the corner to keep on your normal route to home. As you do, you notice your tail has disappeared. You don’t relax, per-say, but you do feel some relief. You barely catch your dad saying, “Wanna get sushi?”

“Sounds great,” you say, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you make it back to your apartment, the glow from this morning has faded. You find yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to convince yourself this isn’t what you think it is. No one followed you, no one’s after you, and Bucky certainly isn’t having you tailed because that’s insane. But you’ve always been like this, chasing down threads that don’t need to be pulled and finding faces in shadows even when they’re not there.

You should tell Bucky. Your supposed tail is as much a threat to you as it is to him, since he knows where Bucky lives. But something is stopping you, and you don’t pick up your phone. You’re a private investigator, you tell yourself firmly. You can figure this out on your own.

Part 5

~~~

let me know what you think!! thank you all for reading xx oh and listen to the playlist i made pls its fire

[omegawolverine]

I know you posted it days ago but you said something about wanting to rant about either karl or his fanbase and its been itching at my brain. Ive no clue whats happening or what is happening at all cause no one seems to be making clear points?? Or explaining anything?

Obviously you do NOT have to talk about it im sure it might be a sore point to rant because people can get SO needlessly rude to others over it. But if you want to idk explain? Just rant? Im definetly curious what it was over or about.

The "you dont need to talk about this" is amplified by the fact i am DAYS late and you are probably over it by now.

okay hi yes im happy to talk about this but i think i should preface with two things:

1) even tho it may seem like im biased towards him or being very defensive of him im actually a super casual karl viewer and the only reason i am super defensive of him sometimes is bc we act a lot alike irl and that is mainly because of our neurodivegency. when i say a lot i mean we share traits like "annoying" stimming (jumping around, making loud noises, repeating the same phrases until everyone is sick of hearing them), the difficulty reading situations, the very obvious issues with volume control and not just bouncing from subject to subject to subject as we fucking please. basically anything you've seen karl do on stream that is Very Neurodivergent ive done the same in my own way which is why i get defensive when i see people calling him annoying or saying they dont like him, usually for these types of reasons. that being said, when i say im a very casual karl viewer, i fucking mean it. i usually only watch him when he's streaming with other ccs i like or when he's doing chill alt streams bc even with the annoying donos, he's pretty relaxing and comforting when he's just fucking around by himself and he isnt trying to get as hype as he would on a main channel stream. so yeah, it may seem like im biased and sure, i guess i am on some level, but it's not coming from a place of me hyperfixating on him or me even loving him as a cc, it's coming from me being a neurodivergent who likes him just enough to get upset when i see people basically being casually ableist towards him.

2) i dont have all the facts or even a great understanding on what the fuck has been happening recently with his "drama"...mostly bc he talked about it on his priv, which im not on, and people are gatekeeping the tweets, as they always do, and basically making you "dm to see them" (which is already a problem in and of itself bc apparently in these tweets he said he didnt want them being ss and shared, yet they are being shared thru dms over and over and over again like. at that point just stop withholding the information and post the fucking shit, you clearly dont care that he said "dont share"). additionally, most of the threads ive seen on this situation havent actually explained the initial issue, just talked about his apology (a lot of people have said "it's bad" but havent said why and with no screenshots ((i havent asked for someone to dm me them and i still havent seen them posted, which is mildly surprising, but incredibly frustrating at this point)), i only have a few basic details i can actually assess it on) or they talked about the initial issue in very vague details so um. excuse me trying to explain this now, but ill try and make it make sense with how little ive actually pieced together.

(oh, also, here's my first rant about the ableism in this fandom which is way more broad. this is a pretty different rant from that one, but they're both pretty big reasons why i hate this fandoms treatment of karl)

so basically the problems started with mr beast being apart of a charity stream that donated either to autism speaks or to a similar company, im unsure on that part. im also unsure on if the people participating in the stream actually knew of this or not bc, from what i remember, the money was being donated to a separate organization that was like. under the bad company or some shit like that, idk how stuff like that works and also i read about this shit months ago bc this originally happened months ago and just sorta came to a head recently.

anyways, i think karl was supposed to be apart of this stream but pulled out of it right before (that or these were two separate streams and karl was supposed to participate in the first but pulled out while mr beast did both?? idk. regardless karl did not actually participate, just mr beast). from there people started doing the guilt from association bullshit they always do, this was also doubled by the fact that the chris being racist stuff came out sometime around then and basically he got dragged all over twitter for "being ableist" and "supporting racists" and i cant remember if he actually apologized when this originally happened or not. i vaguely remember him apologizing about something back then but i genuinely dont know if it was this or something else.

basically that died down eventually, a good chunk of people unstanned him but him and honktwt didnt end up getting the lovely lil technotwt treatment and they still havent yet, surprisingly. good for them honestly ajsksk

but now we get to the past few weeks and apparently something happened with him "laughing at someone saying the r slur" (it was mizkif, i believe), specifically when it was directed at other people, which is a big yikes, obviously, but when karl was called out for this a lot of people kind of. made this into a situation that it wasnt bc um. basically karl didnt laugh at it, he gave a few nervous giggles, as people often do when in a situation like that (and karl specifically said he does this in the one part of his apology tweet which i did stumble upon, although it wasnt the important part of the apology thread bc why would it be) and people fucking crucified him for it. they quite literally dragged a neurodivergent man for supposedly "laughing at the r slur" when he can literally reclaim it and also he was just nervous laughing.

and this is where the situation just gets really bad because they. basically forced him to admit that he was autistic on his priv to apologize for this. i havent seen the screenshots of him saying this, but i saw people discussing it and i am frankly so fucking pissed about this because sure, it was a bad situation, and i understand people wanting an explanation, but an apology? for a neurodivergent man nervous laughing at a slur he can reclaim? and then forcing the man to admit something he literally said in that tweet he didnt want people to know which is why people were being so gatekeepy about it while also LOUDLY discussing the situation, as if that wouldnt drive MORE PEOPLE to look for screenshots and ways to get ahold of this information? and then people had the audacity to call it a "bad apology" when they had quite literally just violated his privacy by forcing him to admit something that he shouldnt have needed to share in the first place if he didnt want to, which he didnt.

and this is why im so pissed off. karl is already constantly picked at and made fun of and called annoying for his neurodivergent traits, things which he literally cant help, things which are generally harmless, and now he was forced into a situation where he can now be further picked at and made fun of and called annoying bc they forced him to admit something private instead of just understanding and accepting that he had been nervous laughing at someone using a slur he has definetly been called for his neurodivergency.

tldr of my thoughts: yes i think karl needed to address this situation, it definetly looked bad, but twitter stans have this sense of entitlement with their ccs and because of that, they consistently take it way too far and harm the people they claim to care about so dearly. we've seen it happen time and time again with dream, but this is the first time ive seen them basically force someone to out themselves to make their apology "valid" and most of them still seem to not want to accept it anyways, which just makes me feel bad for him bc now that info is out their and people are just disregarding it to continue "holding him accountable".

anyways, i think that's all i can really say on this topic rn tbh, if anyone else knows this situation better please feel free to lmk clarifications and ill add them in since, like i said, i know fuck all thanks to twitter being so goddamn hush hush about the important details while simultaneously being the loudest mfers about how much they hate karl now instead of just fucking unfollowing and moving on.

thanks for the ask and im sorry if this is confusing!! i just think this is one of those weird situations where like. i think karl deserved some criticism for what happened and how he handled it or at least he shouldve been asked to address it but that just. isnt what happened, at all. he was harrassed. karl got harrassed and because of that he handled this situation even more sloppily than he probably wouldve and exposed private info about himself that he didnt feel comfortable doing and it just. fucking sucks tbh.

[i-did]

what would make renee angry in your opinion?

I had a really hard time answering this one actually. I thought about it for a while and asked a lot of my friends to see if they had any ideas, and here's what I came up with:

1) A professor or TA who is super shitty to her

Just a really shitty teacher.

as she goes through college, she’s bound to run into some assholes, and I don’t think Renee has perfect grades in the past or present. her not knowing academic terminology and feeling out of place in the college setting would make a lot of sense for a lot of the foxes, and Renee is good on putting on a smile, but she still eventually gets that one professor or TA that scoffs at her questions and “doesn’t have time for the likes of her” and the constant complete dismissal digs painfully under her skin and brings out her anger.

2) People who are intensely rude to her despite her best efforts to be as kind as she can be

Renee is patient, but we all have our limit. similar to the one above, but Renee dealing with someone who is just rude all the time and she struggles to keep reminding herself “we all have bad days, I don’t know what they’re going though.” Renee working in a coffee shop and a woman bumping into Renee and spilling her coffee on herself, only to yell at Renee for an hour, ignoring all of Renee’s pleasant customer service smiles. said customer later on becoming a regular and repeating this behavior, cutting off people in parking lots and flipping them off, Renee being kind and trying to give her a free scone only for the woman to tell her she hates scones, Renee offering something else only for the woman to tell her to shut up. that shit wears you down, and Renee still dumping her kindness onto someone every time only for it to backfire or be dismissed would make her have to take a few deep breaths in the back room before deciding, fuck it, she's cut off from active kindness, now only passible neutrality and not being aggressive is enough. 

3) someone who refuses her help

her knowing she could really make a difference, but some people just don’t want help, and she feels helpless and angry. she's not angry at the person, but the situation of them not being ready to accept help or even able to accept help makes her so frustrated she would start to grind her teeth in her sleep. She understands how it is, how hard it can be to take the first step to change or giving up pride or whatever the hurtle may be, but that doesn’t make it any easier than her thinking in her head “just let me fucking help you!!! or anyone!!! just let anyone in to help you!!!! fuck!!!” inside her head. she knows not everyone needs help or saving, but some people do, and when they shove her back, unwilling and not ready for it over and over while she’s trying to save them, she gets frustrated that she can’t.... do anything. and just has to wait. but Renee can be patient, and she’s willing to wait. 

4) Someone actively trying to wear her down and get under her skin

okay so this isn’t something that happens often, the closest Renee has really come to it is with Andrew when he first was scoping her out. but– if someone was actively trying to aggravate her, laughing at everything she said and making fun of her, pulling at her looser strings and picking at her ticks, watching to see what brought out her reaction, they could eventually do it and get under her skin. i think she wouldn’t let herself blow up at them since thats what they want, but she would silently excuse herself from the situation to take a breather. no one really does this with her, and Andrew only does this to size her up and even still his interrogation isn’t the type of harassment i’m imagining. i mean like old school bullying, not locker shoving, but the middle school girl shit that leaves emotional scars. and them being older, they’re less afraid to show it and be more straight forward mean. people don’t really do this to her tho, its too much effort to get a reaction, and when they do, its never what they would have wanted, like crying, but instead is her smile falling and then finding a way to make them feel like shit. Renee is kind, but she also knows how to play on a similar level as them, not just with fists. i HC Renee as plus size, and fuck it is hard to be different in anyway as a kid. but childhood bullying was the least of her worries and these people dont see how deep her personal self assurance has grown and how she has learned to stand with her head held high and her face serine. her and dan are quite similar in this, but dan is much more active and direct while Renee is passive in her letting it glide over her, dan has even gotten annoyed on Renee’s behalf and then annoyed that Renee was not affected and why she didn’t fight more directly back. 

5) People who are overtly cruel and she struggles to sympathize with

okay so, you ever see someone so mean and rude for zero reason to someone else and you’re just like... what the fuck??? Renee doesn’t let others get to her really, but damn.... someone going after someone else in ways that are just so uncalled for and so harshly.... it gets to her. She once watched an episode of catfish where the catfisher laughed at the girl, uncaring that he crossed so many emotional lines and manipulated people without really any care. and she wanted to throw the remote and punch the tv right where the guys face was on the paused screen. nothing like someone just, kicking someone else while their down with no mercy, or making fun of someone behind their back and them not knowing, making fun of the deaf kids voice behind his back and he doesn’t see them doing it, and she’s like, man, Fuck. You. in her head. I don’t think she was like, always a nice person, in fact, i think Renee used to very much so not be the type to sit with the alone kid at lunch but instead ignore him and think “yea he’s weird, kinda ugly” without thinking much of it. But then she decided to change, and she took everything she thought it meant to be a good person, and became that. she started sitting with the alone kid, she started doing charities, she started to smile instead of punch, and she started going to church. and so when she sees cruelness she was once passive in the face of, maybe even active in, she uses kindness. Renee is she good at using taking the high road in such a graceful way it makes others feel bad. like when she tells Nicky calmly “thats not very nice” after he jokes about Seth dying in a car crash on his way from the airport book 1, and Nicky feels like shit. it feels like shit to get called out sometimes, and while its not her goal, she does know it is an effect of it. (i don’t think she’s mad at Nicky in that scene, but she did say something since she is there to protect hers and she redraws that line in that moment, especially without Allison or Seth there yet to say fuck you themselves.)

6) Injustice and systems of oppression

for these i feel she gets more frustrated, overwhelmed, and sometimes resigned. she knows how dark and shitty the world is, but she stays up at night with her hand on her heart as she breathes deep, thinking about how... utterly fucked everything is. its pretty easy for me to HC that Renee is politically far left and has seen the dark side to lack of resources and systemic issues that are just... so overwhelming she doesn’t even know what she does as just one person. world pollution, corruption, class divide, flint water crisis, the homeless crisis, the prison system, functioning segregation in school systems, just... it all. she’s had nights after volunteering where she thinks “i did something, i did.” and she has days where she realizes “...i’m doing nothing, in the end... its all for nothing, there’s just too much.” just a bad day where she sits there, thinking about how much is wrong and wont be fixed and how ‘doomed’ things are, how broken, and she doesn’t feel at a loss, but rather this deep anger that comes from who she was before. 

7) herself. 

Her being unable to live up to her own standards. she still thinks mean things, she has mean and cruel urges, and when she has them, she remembers that she’s still a bad person trying very hard to be a good one, and she thinks she’s still a bad person at her core. she’s not self loathing with it, but she does think to herself “i’m a hypocrite.” and sits with that thought for a minute. sparring with Andrew has helped her, to balance the two sides of her in a way that feels both self indulgent and honest to her path forward. but sometimes while sitting in that church pew, she thinks of her dead mother, her dead step father, those she turned in without batting an eye, stabbing in the back to save herself, and she thinks “i should feel something.” but she doesn’t, she wasn’t sorry then and she’s not sorry now. and she thinks, “the others call Andrew a monster, and they don’t realize that i’m one too.” and she tries to muster up something deep inside her, but she cant. and it can frustrate her, how after all these actions, all those hours of beach clean up and homeless shelters and building houses in some other country and going around clapping her hands to the songs, but she’s still the person she is deep down. and it gets to her. i think her having a conversation with Neil one day, on what it means to be a real person, is she pretending who she is? is she her thoughts or her actions? which is the real her? and Neil saying, it’s all of it. every facet of the self is still the self, he is Nathaniel and Neil and Abram and every other person he has been and will be. we change but we are also always ourselves, and her actions are just as true as her thoughts. 

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hi I dont know if you want jercy requests at the moment but i had an idea for one :

Dark percy murdering calligula as a revenge for jason

Hello angel! Whew this request was willldddddd and I had soo much fun with it. There isn't any jercy per se (in fact Annabeth and Percy are together in this) but Percy is furrrrrious about Jason and he exacts a very twisted sort of revenge for his friend's honour. Basically this was an excuse to write dark!percy and by gods I hope I delivered!

CW: revenge driven, grief, graphic depictions of violence

Burning Maze Spoilers

he used to be nice.

He used to be nice.

Percy had been digging around the weapons room when his name had been shrieked like a dying animal. He had been looking for protective gear to give to little demigods in his sword-fighting class, when a scream like broken bones cracked through his body. He had been starting another calm, routine-controlled day at camp half-blood when he heard the news that made him snap.

*Two hours earlier*

“Jackson,” Annabeth knocks at his cabin door. He hears her voice carry through the open windows, and over the continuous sound of the ocean. “Pers, we have breakfast in half an hour and you have a sword class to teach today.”

The event had been printed on her wall of “to-dos” so that neither of their adhd brains would have the chance to forget. But he groans at the reminder, not wanting to escape his warm bed, or the duvet that wraps around him like a hug, or the pillows that hold his head as if he is a god. Sometimes he wishes he was a Hypnos kid. Their whole thing is sleeping . The knock sounds again.

“Seaweed Brain, come on,” His girlfriend sighs, “You promised we’d talk to Chiron about the—"

The loud and obnoxious cry of a harpy sounds somewhere in the distance and whatever she says next is drowned out completely. He knows though. Knows what she’s going to say and what they have to do. So he drags himself out of bed, like the last sack of potatoes on the crate. Heavy and bruised and discarded for the most desperate of the lot.

“I’m up,” He manages to rasp. He doesn’t like talking to people till he’s brushed his teeth, and eaten something, and spent at least half an hour staring at an empty coffee cup. A New Yorker through and through he supposes.

“Okay,” He hears Annabeth call, “I’ll see you at the dining hall then.”

He makes a sound half way between a grunt and a yawn and hopes she understands because that’s the best she’s getting out of him. The morning routine is quick, even done at the speed of a stubborn toddler. Soon he is sitting at the Poseidon table, scarfing down eggs and toast, and washing it done with a second cup of coffee. The buzzing in his veins is completely normal. And he’s definitely not speaking at a thousand miles an hour. This is how he always talks. Why on earth they allow coffee in a camp full of adhd kids, he’ll never understand. But it works in his favour so he isn’t going to complain.

By the time him and Annabeth are done talking to Chiron about introducing therapy to the camp, he feels like his eyes are moving faster than his sensory receptors can process and his thoughts are moving faster than his ability to process at all. So when his girlfriend, smiling at him about something, stops outside their training room he looks at her with furrowed brows and asks, “What are we doing here? Are we training for something?”

She frowns, “How much coffee did you have this morning?”

“Only three cups.” He shrugs, and clenches his hands in his pockets as if she can see through the fabric to the shaking body underneath.

Her grey eyes widen as if she’s about to scold him, a petulant child being chided by their ever tired caregiver. It makes the part of him still attempting to function slightly wild. He squishes that part down with the force of a thousand ships. Someone calls Annabeth’s name so with a quick peck to the cheek she leaves him in front of the training room and jogs towards the middle of camp and out of sight.

He stares at the room, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on things he doesn’t need to focus on right now, like the three lines of a song he heard at the grocery store a week ago that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head.

He used to be nice.

Entering the training room he scans the schedule and sees he’s teaching a class of small people, campers younger than ten who are just learning the ropes but should disaster ever strike will be ushered to the Cabin 9 bunkers to wait out the storm. It is a rule that no-one under the age of twelve be subject to war if they need not be. And he will make damn sure the need never ever surfaces.

He gathers swords of various shapes and sizes, along with a few daggers, and the straw dummies that have seen better days. It boggles his mind that they’re at a camp for children of literal greek gods but somehow there’s no funding for basic necessities like extra cots in the Hermes cabin, and better dummies to stab.

Muttering to himself he moves aside metal and stacks of straw, trying to find protective gear in the pile dumped at the corner of the training room. When he doesn’t see any he lets out a long suffering sigh... he has to go to the weapons room, which is more of a broom closet with deadly devices than anything else.

The room smelt musty, and the reek of rust slams into his nostrils at dizzying speeds. It reminds him of blood, and it made his skin itch with the need to get out. But still he bends down and searches through the mess of celestial bronze, and gold and—

The scream cauterizes his happiness. He is panic and pain and death and everything brutal in a single awful instant.

“PERCY!” His name has never sounded so full of agony, each syllable holds the stages of grief.

He is running towards the anguish before he’s even fully realises what’s going on. But what he sees when he crests the hill is enough to make the warmth of his heart run burning cold.

Annabeth is curled on the ground, tears like rivers of woe streaming down her cheeks and a purple flag clutched tightly in her fists.

“What happened?” His voice is soft. If he hears himself too loudly he’s going to shatter.

Annabeth cries harder, her whole body shuddering. Grief is overwhelming. Grief is all consuming. Grief will make itself known like thorns in your thumb or bullets in your heart.

“What happened?” He repeats.

And someone, far away, right next to his ear, inside his head, says, “It’s Jason, Jason Grace. He’s dead.”

He used to be nice.

It takes him three days. Three days of non-stop travelling, by foot, and air, and sea, to reach Caligula’s home. A palace. A grave. It is three days too long. Too long for a murderer to be walking free as if there are no consequences to his vile actions. But still he is here now and he will see the fall of a great, and watch how he bleeds just like everyone else. Not gold, the colour of the emperor’s one true love, but red, the colour of his victims.

Percy's eyes are almost black with violence, green so dark it reflects the night sky. His hands clench and unfurl as if practicing to wrap around a throat and squeeze till the symphony of breathing plays its last note. His body is strung taut, a bow string waiting to release. He is murder. He is nothing. He is your worst nightmare.

“Caligula.” He scrapes. It is the exact sound of a sword sparking against stone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Nothing but scared silence greets him. He can feel the fear coating the walls of this burial ground like a fresh coat of paint. He will make a playground of the blood he spills, will invite all manner of creatures to use it as a park. He will revel in the slaughter he is about to participate in.

“Caligula!” His voice is the sharp edge of a small knife. Unassuming but deadly. ‘“It is no use hiding. There is no place you could go where I couldn't find you.” He feels the earth sway underneath him, and he grins. Oh this is going to be fun.

“Fine Emperor, if this is how you want to do it.”

With a shrug, he flings out an arm and turns three columns to dust. He watches the stone crumble, feels the sand on his palm as if he was crumbling the columns in his hands like soft cheese. With a small stomp of his foot a crack rivaling the river Thames splits the marble floor in half. The entire structure shudders, creaks right above him. His grin only gets wider, more dangerous.

“I will level this place to the ground. I will erase it from history as if it had never been. You will not exist Caligula, because you will go with it. Will be crushed under the weight of your own wealth.”

“You’re a fool,” A voice, reedy and nasalled in a way that has his soul curdling, shouts from somewhere on the far side of the room. “You will crush us both."

Percy laughs. He laughs and the sound widens the cracks in the floor. It is deep, and wild, but in the way a wild thing is caged: snapping at it’s bars, hissing to be free. He laughs.

“You are a fool Caligula. A fool if you think i am not willing to die if it means you suffer. A bigger fool still if you think it will not give me great pleasure to spend my last moments watching the life leave your eyes,”

The distant sound of bubbling starts to fill the room. Percy wonders if he can make blood boil. His mother has certainly said so enough times.

“Leave now half-blood,” The Emperor spits. There is still something of arrogant, misplaced bravery in his voice. It amuses Percy. “Leave now and you will not face the consequences.”

“And pray tell,” He contemplates, “Who you think will deliver your consequences if i leave?”

A scoff that echoes into the pathways of his brain comes from the back of the room. “I do not need consequences dealt. I have done nothing to deserve them.”

The sound of bubbling is getting louder. He looks curiously at the cracks still spidering around the room. “Ah Emperor,” He tuts, “That is where you are wrong. People who deserve consequences hardly ever get them. It is those who don’t think they deserve them that become the unlucky bearers.”

“What are you going on about, boy?” He snarls.

The bubbling is loud enough now that Percy almost checks to see if a small brook has carved its way through the floor. There is nothing there except ever growing cracks, turning to rifts and canyons before his eyes.

He used to be nice.

“We can do this one of two ways Caligula.” He starts, honey bees with a sting a little too sharp to be defence. “You can apologise and I’ll kill you quickly, or…” His smile is sickening. “And this is my preferred method, I could watch you die slowly, watch the life drain from your body and into the soil of blood-crops that will grow here, and your dying words will be the mercy you will inevitably beg for.”

The bubbling spills over the cracks, leaking salty water onto the dying marble floor.

“Better choose soon oh dear Emperor,” He giggles, “I am the only thing holding this room together. As soon as I let go the floor will split like your loyalties. You will be crushed to death by your own greed. And if that doesn't happen you will surely drown.” To emphasise his point water starts gushing from the floor, no longer a bubbling stream but a raging river. His laughter is carried along the ripples that hit the walls, already leaking with the all encompassing ocean. “Wouldn’t it be a pity Caligula? To drown in your own home, surrounded by all the things you killed for, watching as they drown with you?”

“Shut up half-blood,” He screeches, “You do not have the power it takes to kill me. You are nothing compared to the centuries I have been alive.”

“Do you know who i am honouring Caligula?” He asks softly, a stark and terrifying contrast to his smile a moment before. “In all your centuries can you remember but one demigod, a dear friend of mine, but just another victim of yours?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, “They are all the same in the end. All bleed, and cry, and piss, and die the same.”

The grin Percy lets loose starts hurricanes. It is the absolute wrong thing to say. ‘“If it is all the same to you Emperor,” He becomes terror. “Then i think i’ll spill your blood at his altar.”

And before the doomed emperor could react an invisible hand wraps around his throat and he was being dragged to the middle of the room. His eyes wide, popping out of his head; hands clawing at his neck as if trying to remove the grip they cannot feel; feet flopping helplessly underneath him.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.” It is a command.

Caligula glares, attempting to spit at his feet.

Percy tilts his head and with a single crook of his finger he slams the emperor into the wall. The crack is deafening. It makes him grin.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.”

Caligula produces an ancient roman gesture, passed through time as if centuries cannot dismantle the insults of humans.

Percy twists his wrist and the emperor’s body contorts into something unrecognizable, bones snapping and shattering to fit their new mold.

“Apologise for killing my friend.”

“Fuck you,” He manages to choke out.

A wave of ocean water alarming in its beauty rises behind him. He is its god. And with a wink he shoves all of it down the emperor’s throat. The column of that pale neck bobs as if attempting to take the water down. He can see the body trying to retch it all up, unable to handle the sheer amount, the salt that comes with it.

“Watch Caligula,” He motions to the palace sinking under the weight of his ocean, “Watch as everything you have ever cared to love drowns.”

Percy grabs a shard of mirror, uncaring of the gash it sweeps across his palm. He holds it up to the ancient powerful Emperor, who is convulsing into nothing. “Watch.”

He used to be nice.

Sometime later when Percy Jackson walks up a hill, and into the fading sun there is nothing but content mania lining his features, and behind him where a grand home once stood, is a trickling river and a single spear carved with the words, “Neo Helios”. The only sign that Caligula, Emperor and murderer, ever existed,

He used to be nice.

Until someone killed his friends.

---------------------------------------

[image id: printed text that reads, "I used to be nice." end id]

[yakityyaku]

Probably because you guys are absolutely twisting what Kahlem has said into something she hasn't said. She literally said she supported you guys and you deserve equal rights. You guys are throwing hissy fits over being able to say ACAB, which cursing has always been against the rules, and not having a same sex leaf/pride items, and then twisting it to be Kahlem is a homophobe in which she is not.

*cracks knuckles* ok let's do this

First of all, what words are being twisted? She never said she supports the LGBT community. She was asked several times to say the specific words "I support the LGBT community and believe they should have equal rights" and she never said it. She just kept saying everyone was welcome on Mweor. Those are not the same thing. There's no valid reason to not say specifics.

"But she was being bullied into saying it!"

If you asked me if I think homeless puppies should be given a home, or that kids with cancer should get medical support, or whatever else and told me to say those things word for word, I'm not going to get pissy and tell you no and say I'm being bullied. I might be concerned that my stance on those issues wasn't clear! But I'd still say it. It's not bullying to ask someone to speak up.

You shouldn't NEED any level of force to say something that should be very much be supported. The fact that she danced around a human rights question, considered being asked to answer the question bullying, and then NEVER made the actual statement we wanted is exactly what happened and if she won't tell us verbatim that she specifically supports our community and our rights NOT just our use of her website that she makes at LEAST a year's worth of minimum wage on per year as profit alongside her actual sources of income then what else are we supposed to assume? Words and actions correlate anon.

A company will not say it doesn't want x minority buying their product because they want to profit off of them, but that doesn't mean they're not supporting people and other businesses who directly lead to the hurt and discrimination against said minority.

Nobody is twisting her words, we made a pretty fucking easy conclusion based on logic, our experiences as a community historically, what we DO know about Kahlem, and just common sense.

Give me one good reason why you wouldn't specifically say you supported a marginalized group if you actually did support them. Explain to me how a simple request being repeated over and over is bullying. Explain why she wouldn't comply before it even became a big deal.

Next, I don't know why you're throwing this out to me because A I never posted ACAB anywhere on the site and said in an answer I understand why using the acronym caused warnings. You're lumping all of us into one group and not bothering to read anything anyone is saying to you because you made your mind up a long time ago yet still have the gall to pretend you're being rational and logical when you refuse to absorb a single word of new information that doesn't support your opinion.

I already discussed my stance on the ACAB issue and what the actual problem with it was, so you're welcome to search for it in the tag it shouldnt be too far down. I'm sure you won't though because you're just baiting.

Also, again, I dont give a fuck about the items. I don't make pairs. I suck at it and don't like my mweors looking similar. I would have likely never used the breeding leaf to begin with. Pride items are cute and should exist, but they don't fit my aesthetic and I don't even use the Lioden ones and likely wouldn't use any on Mweor either.

You once again have made a broad stroke assumption that this is about items. It isnt. The problem is it took several years for her to address one of if not the most supported suggestions on the site and only chose to when someone tipped her off thay people were sick of 0 transparency from her and felt her utter lack of engagement with the site and it's posts showed her inability to run the site efficiently.

Derivative from that were the years old rumors of her homophobia fostered by the furry paws incident which stoked fear that she was denying the leaf for homophobic reasons. Then she decided she couldnt say she supported the lgbt community. Dots are connected. It doesn't take a detective to see how this all correlates

And best for last, her husband. Yeah, people who aren't racist, homophobic, ableist, and otherwise bigoted morons LOVE neonazis! Her marrying someone who posts and is active in neonazi communities and the horrible branches of their beliefs is pretty obvious evidence she is at least ambivalent to these issues which is just as wrong as actively engaging.

This information is laid out everywhere for you. Again, I'm not going to keep repeating myself. If you have specific questions you are welcome to ask, but if you're going to decide my stance on everything and ignore easily accessible answers then you're clearly sealioning and I'm not going to waste anymore time trying to get information into your thick skull. If you don't think shes in the wrong, fine, but you're not convincing anyone else here of that and frankly I don't give a frogs fat ass

[fairycosmos]

i hate grief bc i've wanted to die my whole life and thinking about the person i lost never wanted to make me stay but now that they are the ones who died i'm angry as fuck every day and feel trapped but i know that if it had been me the one to die it would have been ok and i wouldnt even have worried about it/hurting ppl with my death. like every day i do H and get drunk and i dont care about dying you know? but i lost someone and it makes me angry that THEY didnt care. do you get what i mean?

i am really really sorry for your loss. yeah. i know what you mean, at least to an extent. everyone’s grief and suffering is unique to them and the relationship they had with the one who passed, but i can relate so much to being trapped and mad and out of my mind. i think a lot of people can. it seems like so many of us are walking around half disillusioned by this existence and half completely done with it because of the shit we’ve been through. every day i feel a form of anger (most of the time it is cold and numbing) when i think about how my sister died. i have gone round and round in my head about why she did the things she did. because even if it wasn’t fully preventable, it wasn’t cancer or a car crash or anything like that. when i found out what she had in her system. god. i can not explain to you what that moment was like. it fucking choked me. all i remember is i felt my heart beating somewhere in my head, and i was PISSED. i thought i was going to pass out. because it’s like you said - she didn’t care, and that was almost like proof. she went to sleep thinking nothing of anything. mindless. after weeks of lecturing her, after her constant presence in my life, all that time. after years of her fucking around w other drugs and finally finding stability only to slip for less than a month bc of some fucking man, only to lose her entire life to a mistake - it’s inexplicable. i can sit here and write to you about it but i still cant’t fathom it. how she didn’t give a fuck, or she couldn’t see the situation clearly enough to. and now i’m living this forever without her. now i have to take care of my mother alone. now i’ve lost my best friend. and she lost everything. she was a whole person, she would’ve had years left and she deserved to. and the only reason she didn’t is because she couldn’t fuckin accept how much she was worth, how much life was worth so she gambled w death. what i’m saying is i understand that in a way, maybe a selfish way, i don’t know -  it almost feels mocking. because we’ll never know if they realize what they’ve done. after she died that’s all i could repeat out loud in the shower. i kept saying: you don’t know what you’ve done. idiot, stupid girl. shit like that. every time i tried to talk to her, it was a lecture. so yeah. it is very very normal to be pissed off and bitter dude. it is not easy or fair to be left behind. it’s all a normal part of grief. losing it entirely is the whole thing because honestly what else can you do.

i could be wrong but. unfortunately i think all of these emotions, in the context of you, stem from the fact that it is easier to care for others than it is to care about yourself. you’re not bothered about yourself dying because you don’t have the same love for yourself that you had for the one who passed. you don’t see yourself as important in that way. i don’t know what happened to make you feel like that. maybe whatever it was lead you to use drugs n alcohol to escape in the first place. maybe you think you not mattering is some sort of universal truth, but it’s not. it’s a belief you constructed either out of pain or as a trauma response that you’ve clung onto so much that you’ve convinced yourself it’s reality. it’s clear you’re going through an insurmountably difficult time, and i know words on a screen aren’t going to change that. i wont pretend to get it first hand. i just want you to know that the same way you wish your friend had realized the worth in their life before it was too late, that same anger born from frustration and sadness - that’s how a lot of people likely feel about you. and i know you don’t care about hurting them w your death because you don’t care about anything. your friend didn’t care, why should you, right? but that’s how the cycle perpetuates. and you’re the one who has to live with this all now, stuck here or not. try to periodically and consciously recognize how fucked up and permanent grief is. you don’t want to be the one to cause it. not really. not when you can see it for what it is and you have the option to prevent it. you are here no matter how much you wish not to be. you do deserve to find substantial peace, stability and good health while you still can. that’s non negotiable. even if it takes a fucking life time getting there.

i completely understand that it is all far easier said than done. that you have to be the one who is willing to reach out for help and to really stick w a plan but. i guess i just hope you know that the option will always be waiting for you when you are willing to seek it out. whether it’s through a hotline, rehab, your doctor, your friends and family, 2 hours without using or drinking. any step in the right direction is commendable. you are absolutely more resilient than you realize. more in general than you realize. you’ve had to deal with so much, just the most unimaginable things, and you’re still here. i know that’s because you feel you have no real choice in the matter, back to being trapped here. but nonetheless you’re making it. you can learn to treat yourself w the same regard that you treated your friend. you can learn to care about what happens to you. you can slowly make a home out of what you currently see as a jail.  through talking, through implementing healthier coping mechanisms into your daily life, through building a support system, through confronting and processing how much it hurts, through finding the clarity that comes with progress. all the things your brain wants you to write off. addiction and mental illness are genuine health concerns that require long lasting therapy and treatment just like any other ailment. and maybe the point is to learn to live with them, rather than to cure them entirely. but they are not a death sentence (and that is a good thing), and they are not the entirety of you. you are just currently very overwhelmed by them, understandably so.  excuse me if this is all sounds like naïve bullshit, but maybe some day you will be able to take some of it on board if you can’t right now. anyway, it sounds cliche as fuck, but every day that you’re alive you’re keeping your friend’s influence on this world alive too. you were shaped by them, in more ways than you realize. and they’re here in more ways than we realize too. not necessarily ghosts, at least imo. but just around. and in your head, in the universe. i am rooting for you so much and i hope you can accept that even if it all feels like lies, it’s ok to treat yourself w kindness. any attempt is good enough. sending a lot of love your way. please take care of yourself as much as possible. please consider your needs and your well being while you still have the choice to. sorry to go all 90s drug prevention ad on you btw, but u know me. i’m incapable of shutting up and minding my business abt this sort of thing lol

[despairofthefuture]

HIRO GUNDAM IS IN TROUBLE BUT WE KNOW WHERE HAJIME IS UNFORTUNATLY HE ALREADY ACCEPTED (as far as we know junko could have been lying) BUT YOU CANT GO YET JUST GET PEKO PEKOYAMA AND THEN GO SHES A MASTER SWORDSMAN AND CAN HELP FEND OFF MURKRO (the alive one) HES SOMEWHERE NEAR THE ADMINISTRATIVE BUILDING EITHER OUTSIDE OF IT OR INFRONT OF ONE OF THE DOORS JUST GO GET PEKO AND SAY ITS AN EMERGENCY AND GUNDAM IS IN TROUBLE HOPEFULLY SHE UNDERSTANDS

Hiro was walking behind Chiaki and Imposter, the two walking towards the administrative building where Hajime had gone, when he suddenly stops moving. His head shoots over to the spirit, as does Chihiro and Leon. "...What?!" Hiro says in disbelief.

"Hiro?" Chiaki calls back to him, the two living companions having stopped walking. "Is something wrong?"

Hiro turns his head to look at her, his face pale.

"I'll take that as a yes." Imposter grimaces, running over to the clairvoyant. "What is it? Did you have another vision?!"

"Not...exactly." He answers. "But I dont have time to explain. Gundham...Gundham's in danger! I-I think he's being attacked by Mukuro, Junko's sister? I-I dont know!"

Hiro was breathing heavily, and was on the verge of a panic attack. People were being attacked now? Like, he knew that if he didnt stop Junko lots of people would die, but someone was actually...being hurt.

Was it because of him?

"Hiro, calm down." Leon's voice cuts through the panicking man's thoughts. His best friend places a ghostly hand as close to his shoulder as he can. "Relax. You got this still, alright?"

"We can save Gundham and stop Junko, you j-just need to take a breath." Chihiro chimes in with a comforting smile.

Hiro looks between the ghostly apparitions of two of his closest friends and nods. The anxiety and guilt in his gut doesnt go away, but it lessens enough for him to take a breath and look to a now extremely worried Chiaki and Imposter.

"The spirits also said we needed to find a...Peko Pekoyama?" He says to them, scratching the back of his head. "They say she's a-"

"Swordswoman. The Ultimate Swordswoman." Imposter interrupts the fortune teller, having regained his own composure. "Its not a bad idea. She is extremely skilled in fighting."

Chiaki places a finger to her chin. "Maybe we could ask Akane and Nekomaru for help? They're extremely powerful fighters, too. If they were in a fighting game, they'd be a top tier choice!"

Everyone gives her a puzzled look for a moment before Leon's ghost speaks up. "We could also ask Sakura, and possibly Mondo! They'd be very strong in a-"

"No." Hiro cut Leon off with a shake of his head, and his allies give him a surprised look.

"No?" Chiaki repeats with a tilted head. "Why not?"

The underclassman frowns and rubs the back of his head. "'Cause, like....there's already a lot of people involved in this mess." He mutters. "The more we tell about Junko's plan, the more'll get hurt. Plus the more likely that a mass panic will break out."

"But if the authorities were to know, they could apprehend Junko and stop her easily." Imposter points out.

"If it was that easy dont you think the spirits wouldve suggested that?" Yasuhiro counters. "Clearly she has more power than even the police. Which is the whole reason I dont even see how I can do this!" He glances over at his ghostly friends and sighs. "But I have to at least try so...if the spirits think Peko is the best option, we'll go with her. But I dont want to drag anyone else into this, ok? Please?"

Everyone was quiet for a while, until Leon snorts. "I'm impressed. Usually you would have run away crying by now. Guess you're taking this seriously."

Hiro rolls his eyes. "I dont really have a choice. I'm still terrified and I feel like giving up with each development. But I dont want to lose any of my friends."

Imposter smiles softly at that and bows his head. "I respect your dedication, Hiro. Very well. We wont tell anyone else of your visions."

Chiaki nods in agreement. "We probably wont even have to tell Peko." She muses quietly. "Just mentioning one of our friends being in danger should be enough."

Hiro nods. "Alright. Since you two know her best, why dont you both go get her?"

Imposter raises a brow. "And what are you going to do?"

"You could sneak over to the administrative building and see how things are going." Chihiro suggests.

Hiro grimaces at the idea but sighs. "I'm gonna...go to the administrative building and scope things out....stealthily."

"Do you think you can manage that?" Chiaki asks.

Hiro hesitantly nods, and after a shared look between the two upperclassmen, they say their goodbyes and hurry to find Peko.

Yasuhiro bites his lip and lets out a large breath, turning towards his destination. "Alright...let's go."

~~

When Hiro arrives at the scene, he is horrified by what he ses.

Gundham is all but leaning against the wall of the building, gripping his right arm with his left as blood drips from it. His shirt is sliced open in several places, blood splattered onto it. There's a large gash on the left side of his face, just below his eye, that flows even more blood down his cheek, and his usually styled hair has come undone, falling into his eyes as his chest rises and falls heavily.

The breeder glares daggers at his opponent as he attempts to catch his breath. "Y-you...vile fiend!" He curses at her, placing a palm on the wall to steady himself as he tries to walk forward despite his shaky legs. "You will never take down GUNDHAM TANAKA!"

"I'll admit. I'm impressed." Mukuro says, ignoring Gundham's words as she stalks closer. Hiro notices there's not a scratch on her, and that terrifies him even further. "Most people would be long dead from the wounds I've given you. You're much stronger than I anticipated." The teasing smile that had been on her face quickly falls to a frown as she pulls out a throwing knife. "But this game ends now. You will no longer get in Junko's way."

Hiro's eyes widen in fear. No...no, this cant happen! He was supposed to save their lives, not end them faster! Could he intervene? But what could he do? He'd just get himself killed!

As he wracks his brain for how to save Gundham, he notices Imposter and Chiaki running his way, and behind them, a girl with a sword on her back.

Peko Pekoyama.

Hope rises in his chest for a moment, before its replaced with despair. Leon and Chihiro understand as well.

"...they wont make it in time." Chihiro whispers, the three of them slowly turning to watch the horrific scene unfold before them.

Mukuro grips the throwing knife in her hand, readying herself to throw it. Gundham meanwhile takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, seemingly accepting his death. Smirking at this, Mukuro throws the knife and-

"Squea-!"

A hamster's squeak is cut short.

Gundham slowly opens his eyes in confusion as to why he had felt no pain. They widen in horror at what he sees instead. Maga-Z, one of his beloved Dark Devas, had been impaled by the knife in his stead, apparently having stowed away in his scarf.

"No....no!" Gundham cries out in agony as he picks up the tiny corpse of his pet, tears forming in his eyes.

"Well, that was unintentional." Mukuro shrugs, pulling out another knife. "But at least you get to taste the sweet nectar of despair before you d-"

THUD!

Mukuro suddenly falls to the ground, Peko standing behind where she had stood with a wooden sword above her head.

Hiro lets out a breath so big he almost passes out. "Oh thank Father Time!" He exclaims, rushing over to join the others.

"We got here as fast as we could." Peko says, sheathing her sword and glaring at Mukuro.

"I dont think it was quick enough." Chiaki replies softly, looking over to where Gundham was knelt down, cradling his falled subordinate.

There is a solemn silence as everyone gives Gundham his time to grieve.

Eventually he stands, still holding Maga-Z in his hands. "I thank you mortals for your assistance." He says, his voice quiet and broken. "I know you did what you could. Maga-Z gave his life to protect me, and for that he shall be remembered." He looks down to the hamster, then to Hiro. "I am aware we are in a hurry, but do you mind if I bury him? You can go ahead. I will find you."

Hiro gives him a sad smile. "Of course. And if you see Sonia, bring her along."

"Though, maybe see Mikan first?" Chiaki suggests. "You're very hurt."

Gundham simply nods before heading off.

The others watch him go for a moment before Peko breaks the silence.

"I will bring this one back to my dorm where she will cause no harm. At least until we figure out what to do with her."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan." Hiro agrees. "Just be careful, alright?"

Peko smiles at him and nods. "I will, do not worry." And with those final words she picks up Mukuri and walks off as well.

Theres another silence, no one knowing what to say, until it's broken again. This time by Hiro.

"So...where exactly would Hajime be kept?"

A/N: So uh...I'm sorry? 😅 Dont worry I hate myself for this lol. But now you know shit's getting real! So in the next post is really when my lack of DR 3 knowledge will shine lol.

Also in case it wasnt clear, I dont want too many characters to know about Junko's plan, cause then the tension is kinda gone.

But yeah! Hope you guys are enjoying it so far! ^_^

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

This is the last ask ill send because im honestly tired of this whole thing

I dont know why you brought up the anon hate you got when that’s no part of the discussion. Even if it isnt your intention, you’re making yourself out of to be the victim when you arent. You say you want to get better but each time something gets pointed out you get on the defensive. I dont know why you decided to bring it up, but now that you have: Piama is indeed whitewashed on your drawing. “Warm lighting” doesnt change peoples undertones like that. Compare it to Piama’s last two cgs if you really don’t believe me.

Even if you aren’t affected, you need to be able to recognize it without poc having to tell you in order to be a good ally. I wouldn’t want a straight friend that lets people make homophobic comments about me in their presence and then hear them say “it doesn’t affect me so i couldnt tell it was homophobic so thats why i didnt defend you”. If you aren’t able to recognize it then you’ll inevitably repeat the same rhetoric. Racist rhetoric is everywhere and spewed every single day so you cant expect poc to be with you all the time and take you by the hand to tell you whats racist or not. Those are the reasons why you need to learn how to identify it by yourself, be listening to poc, by developing critical thinking skills, by not surrounding yourself with only white people. If not there’ll be more unchallenged asks such as one i saw recently that pinned poc that complained about yet another white route “stupid because they dont get that lovestruck releases routes by demand”. As if we have no concept of nuance.

No one is obliged to accept an apology, especially after what happened. I dont know where you got that idea from, especially when it concerns something that hurts people this deeply. And I didn’t point it out what happened just to be petty, I pointed it out because it isn’t an isolated event but a pattern of behavior of unchecked racist comments. That was simply the worst case: It was handled poorly, considering mod viv herself never apologized and again, swept it under the rug. The apology I saw from mod wrath was vague, didnt address the situation directly, was posted on this blog so no one knew what was going on, and was later deleted. So yeah she can apologize ten times and it still doesn’t mean we have to accept it. Especially if it’s that catastrophic because it looks like its more about saving face rather than feeling remorse, even if she did feel bad. You’re too eager to call it just “a mistake” and pin me as the unreasonable one.

And I want to ask you, have you truly seen with your own eyes an interaction where someone said to the other “if you like vinca you’re racist” and was completely serious?Or have you heard it from someone else saying that they were told that? Because considering that other anon watering down a woc’s criticism of lovestruck as “she doesnt like white people or this blog” then yeah i wouldn’t trust anything else coming from their mouths. People are getting too pressed over the millionth white woman in the app. Hell even if it happened, it’s probably what, one, two people? But you’re lumping all of us together as if its been a wave of saying that. The valid criticism surrounding Vinca is interconnected with Nahara’s release (one of the few dark-skinned women in the app) considering people kept saying they’d rather have a Vinca route when Nahara’s was announced. They’re not even willing to support it just because they want Vinca’s and that sends a message to voltage. So it simply doesnt boil down to “well its a difference in personalities”. Im gonna go as far as to say that if a woc had the same attitude as Vinca, people wouldnt be frothing at the mouth for her or they’d delve into the realm of fetishizing (as some people are bordering the line with Piama). But thats a whole other topic. And since people want to act stupid: all of the white characters in lovestruck are white because voltage made them that way. They could’ve quite easily made them a poc, but they rarely do. Think about what that means then, if youre really trying to defend yourself by saying “well they put out whats popular”

Lastly, you should really evaluate the content and beliefs you put out when racist people are still comfortable following and interacting with you. This is why i want this discussion to be public: your followers need to read this and apply it to themselves. Because considering the amount of anon hate you said you got yesterday towards the other blogger, theres a bunch of your followers who need to get off their phones and learn to care about other people and stop being racist assholes.

Believe me, I’m tired of it as well.

I brought up the anon hate because I didn’t want you to wonder why I was posting your asks in this form.

And no. Piama is not whitewashed. I took a dropper tool and took the color directly from her sprite, and if you’d looked at my blog, you would’ve seen that I sent screenshots as proof in response to that ask. But you obviously didn’t, so I’ll send them here again. (1. Without lighting. 2. With Lighting.)

If you still don’t believe me, you’re welcome to call me on Discord and I’ll share my screen and show you the entire process. And as an artist: You’d be fucking surprised what lighting does to colors.

Well, yes, I need to be able to recognize it indeed. The thing is: I can’t always. I try my best on this, and there will be moments and issues that will come up, mistakes I will make because I’m not perfect and not a machine. And in those moments, I’d love to have a friend that affectionately slaps me and says “JD, that was shit.” So I can apologize and notice it the next time. I have had multiple friends be transphobic to me in certain ways. I’ve informed them about it. They apologized and haven’t done it since. We’re still friends to this day. I do try to educate myself on racism and put in some work. I don’t expect POC to do all the work for me and explain to me how to be an ally correctly, and still - I hope they help me just as I help my cis friends with trans stuff. I can’t magically change all my behaviors and overcome internalized societal racism with the snap of a finger. If I could, I fucking would have already done it multiple times. The way it is, I’m working on it. Again - I’m sorry I didn’t point out the racist comment in the ask. I should’ve done that, and I’ll make sure to do it in the future.

You’re right no one is obliged to accept an apology. You’re right this hurts people deeply. And as I said - Mod Wrath apologized three times, including one on her personal blog which was a lot less vague. Mod Viv also apologized - to the person in question, in private. Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And the thing is - if you refuse to accept her apology, that’s one thing and fully your right. And the thing is: If an apology is not going to make you forgive her, if ten are not, what do you need in order to forgive? Will you never forgive? Will you always argue it’s going to be an apology to save face when you don’t know the fact she does feel remorse? How will you see that she does?

I did hear the Vinca thing from a friend of mine. Whom I trust. Because seriously, why would you make things like that up? Who would even get the idea? I’m against the idea of believing my friends would lie to me for attention or whatever. And yeah, the criticism of that anon was unfitting - I’ve visited the blog they claimed was doing that and I found nothing of the sorts, so that comment was unfitting unless I missed something. I never intended to say that it’s all of you saying that. I intended to say that some people are handling the issue wrong. I’m sorry it came off that way. I do believe though that it’s people’s full right to say they’d have preferred Vinca over Nahara. I would’ve preferred Vinca. I still read Nahara tho. However, it’s not yours to dictate which routes other people have to support and which not. I will however agree with you that people should give Nahara a chance - it’s quite the sweet story. And I for my part would enjoy a POC Vinca just as much as a white one. (Also, side note, you’re making it appear as if everyone would either fetishize or rage over her, which is very much putting all of the “white” fanbase into the same bag, the same thing you critizised me for earlier. It’s understandable from a psychological point of view, tho, so I’m not gonna comment further.)

Yeah, Voltage makes the characters white, and that’s an issue people can only fix by demanding more POC in the ask posts and comments. Which many do, btw. They put out what is popular indeed, they put out what is demanded, and I fucking demand more POC. I want it. They could’ve made so many LIs POC and they haven’t and I’m fucking unhappy about it too! I’m not even trying to say anything else.

Yes, making this public to arouse thinking is a good policy. The followers need to read this indeed. And we didn’t get anon hate for the other blogger. We got anon hate towards us. Tons. Comments that went as far as telling mods to kill themselves. And while I agree with lots of the things you say - some of the ways you’re acting actively spark this type of hate. There is being loud about the issues you face, and then there is calling people racist assholes based on a comment they made instead of talking to them personally and telling them that’s not okay, giving them the chance to improve themselves instead of always having them stamped as a racist. Just because you’re the one who’s hurt, the one who’s morally correct, does not mean anything you say or do is good behavior. 

You told me I whitewashed Piama when you, with a minute of research, could’ve found proof I didn’t. You obviously wanted the internet to see, maybe hoped I’d get exposed? Could I get an apology for that? And I promise, I’ll accept it because I’m willing to believe you’re a good person.

Summary of everything:

You’re right with lots of things.

I behaved wrong and I’m sorry.

Lovestruck has an issue with racism that we need to change together. 

Together. Without toxic behavior from any side.

- Mod JD

[dragon-shifter-life]

Slight color changes are not indicative of a shift. There are many reasons as to why you might see a ‘different’ color. Most often this is due to lighting. For example If it’s sunny, natural light may make colors more warm toned. Even with basic white artificial light, it may be hard to tell the true color of something. The angle at which you look at things is also a factor. People from the ‘p-shifting community’ are always claiming they’ve shifted in one way or another. If you’re telling the truth you should show proof. Like the other anon said, how can people ever be expected to believe you when there is zero evidence backing your claims? Have you considered how harmful this can be to children learning about otherkin? Many have been taken in by cults, making them think if they just practice they too can transform. There are still people out there who think that the earth is flat despite they’re being pictures of the earth. The only “evidence” flat earth era have is that they cannot see the curvature of the earth. So clearly it must be impossible to prove the earth is round. But as we know, it’s impossible to see the curve of the earth due to our small size compared to the earth and how close we are to it. With an unobstructed view even it’s possible to see a fraction of the curve. I know you aren’t going to listen to what I have to say but you should consider the facts. Think of shifting as a science experiment, a hypothesis, rather than a fact of which it isn’t. Or until it can be proven. And if I’m being honest, you watch too much TV. No one is going to experiment you or hunt you. You are a human being. I do not doubt that you are otherkin but your physical body is human. If people were allowed to do so and kill freely then there would be anarchy. But there’s not. Of course there are criminals here and there, crime is present virtually everywhere. But you’re not going to have the government coming to your house because you *think* you grew a scale or your skin changed it’s tone slightly. And even if you were able to completely transform, biologically you are a human. Let’s say I take a ball of clay and I sculpt it into a coin. Maybe I paint it silver as well. I can’t just go to a store and pay for something with it. Does it look like a coin? Does it maybe feel like one? Certainly. But it’s not a coin. It’s clay and paint and it will always be that no matter what form it takes. Do you think trans people get experimented on just because they identify as the opposite gender? No of course not. And neither do otherkin of any kind. There has not been ONE otherkin that has ever been captured or hunted because of what they identified as. Any people that claim someone is a hunter is clearly a child who’s been manipulated into believing in them or an adult who’s trying to pass on those false claims. You’d really have to be extremely paranoid to believe in such a thing. You may as well believe in the boogey man or bigfoot. Honestly unicorns are more likely to exist than otherkin hunters.

I think there is a misunderstanding here. I definitely do think that shifting should be seen as a science to be studied, and I'm majoring in biology to study just that. On the biological level, our cells undergo a lot of changes- shifts, if you will- just being a part of our bodies. Stem cells, for example, transform and become whatever cell is needed in the body when they're needed. Stem cells are our microscopic shape shifters in everybody. Production of things like hair are regulated by hormones in your body, which is why men tend to have more body hair; it's regulated by testosterone. This works by telling a cell to activate and read a certain portion of the DNA in your cells that cause hair growth.

Now let's talk about scales for a second: scales are made of keratin. The skin on your body is keratinized skin, meaning it produces keratin. This is what makes your skin waterproof. Among the dragon shifters I've met, we all have a skin condition called keratosis pilaris, which is an excess of keratin in our skin that collects around hair follicles. I have a hypothesis that I intend to study and test empirically, but don't yet have the equipment to do so, that there is a connection between shifters that produce scales and keratosis pilaris.

As you can see, there is preliminary evidence to support this hypothesis, even though it's not yet been thoroughly studied. And this is how all science starts out. There's something that exists that suggests something, and it gets studied, repeatable experiments are performed, and the hypothesis becomes accepted as fact. I'm not approaching this like a conspiracy theorist, I've long wanted to study shifting empirically and develop factual evidence to provide to the public. As a personal rule, I would not ask anyone to do or endure anything that I wouldn't do or endure myself, and all studies would be done safely and humanely.

As for my skin color change, this is what's called anecdotal evidence. I wouldn't have claimed this as fact if I didn't see such changes in artificial lighting that I have seen my skin in many times before, and only sometimes have I seen it a different color. At these times, I've felt particularly like I was going to shift or like a shift was starting. While anecdotal evidence is considered impermissible in most situations, it can provide the basis for further studying and experimentation to figure out why it happens.

Also, I don't think otherkin are shifters. In my eyes, otherkin and shifters are different. You can be a shifter and be otherkin for a creature other than that which you transform into, but not every otherkin can shift. It is dangerous to spread information that suggests that, and I agree with those statements.

Let me rephrase the privacy topic and lack of evidence. There is a correct way to reveal the existence of shifters to the public. If done correctly, things will likely go the best way that they can, with the least amount of abuse of the information as possible. However, you have to recognize that even with mundane issues, such as racism and homophobia, people who are people and nothing more are being killed, arrested, abused, and otherwise mistreated in 2021. Shifters can logically expect the same, if not worse, because it would be much easier for people to call us less than human. These are real threats to the community, whether you think so or not. You cannot deny the violations of human rights in our modern world. Again, I won't deny the improvements within the past hundred years, but we're still far from perfect. So yes, we fear for our lives and safety of our identities are revealed and things are revealed to be true.

Posting anonymously online helps us find others like us and build a community, and yes we're aware of hackers and how easy it is to find your identity, but most people are going to see us as liars as you and the other 10 anons in my inbox have.

I have always and will always respect skepticism. I understand that it's difficult to believe something as truth with no evidence. But understanding that most shifters dont have the means to collect evidence, don't have the knowledge to explain it in a factual manner, or don't have the resources to study themselves and provide sufficient evidence can help you understand that it's not so easy to give you the evidence you require to quell your skepticism.

To the other anons, your asks may have been answered here as well. I appreciate the anons who are at least somewhat respectful in their requests for more information and seem receptive to the idea of a response that may sufficiently rebuttal some of their claims.

[bitch-in-a-bag]

can we talk about how the LGBT movement has changed in the past 15 years?

in the light of the events surrounding Chris chan, and people prioritizing pronouns over the rape of a woman with dementia, I think it displays just how... different things are.

i personally feel like it's been co-opted by the more loud and entitled mtfs/ males/penis-havers/whatever pc term exists for the XY chromosome'd, who go too far and aren't reasonably kept in check. I think terf no longer has meaning anymore because it's just become a word we use to silence anyone that disagrees with a trans woman. immediately you're going to call me a terf, I accept that, but please continue reading. I may suprise you. calling someone who's transgender a terf is kinda messed up anyway, and that's exactly why im writing this.

I also think that everyone else (allies, ftms, etc) have followed suit because they've written this messed up narrative that EvErYoNe iS VaLiD. except for trans penis-havers, bc they're the most oppressed and the most valid, actually, regardless of their experiences.

I never used to believe the above because it was always written off as terf shit, and ignoring it kinda benefitted me, but between seeing ftms getting bashed for refusing to follow new "TME" rules as if they aren't trans too, and seeing outrage around Chris chans pronouns, I think it's time to start saying things that may make people uncomfortable. innocent people are already getting hurt by this, and we need to do better. it's time to get uncomfortable.

I want to remind you that perception is both the relying factor, and also the downfall of newer lgbt theory. if my profile were mtf coded, maybe it currently is, you'd call me a self hating trans and I wouldn't be that big of a deal. terfs would probably target me.

if my profile was ftm coded, I would be absolutely skewered for daring to speak out about these issues, even though they do actually affect ftms disproportionately. terfs would try to convince me that being trans is a plague and a mental illness, and to just ~be a cis woman~!

and if assumed cis, I would 100% be assumed radfem terf, and everything I say would immediately be dismissed because of the genuine damage terfs have done. but terfs would still probably flock to this post and berate me for daring to validate trans people At All, because to them, being transgender is a mental illness akin to an eating disorder, and "giving in" to it is "self harm". clearly I don't believe that, so hopefully you'll give me at least some benefit of the doubt.

so, does my identity matter? i have a feeling you'll say yes, because it gives us a good idea of experiences I do and don't have expertise in, and thus room to talk about. but I refuse to directly identify what I actually am because I want the focus of any resulting conversation to be my message and not my self identification. if you read between the lines and figure it out that's just fine, but I would like to be heard first and foremost.

my profile is thus an attempt at being cis female coded, somewhat out of comfort, and that is likely what I'll be assumed to be due to the beliefs I am expressing, even though there is a substantial risk of getting misgendered and dismissed, no matter what my birth sex may actually be. i will give you a hint about my identity: I am transgender, on HRT and everything, and I have been personally affected by all of this. rest assured, this is well within my lane to speak about, and it does matter if you misgender me.

I want you to really think about that. before you respond, really think about if someone saying words on tumblr, talking about their OWN experiences and their take on recent history that applies to themself, really more worthy of being misgendered and harassed than... someone who said they transitioned so they could date lesbians, and then raped their own mother with dementia.

is that fair or just? or is this just a new way of letting people with penises do whatever they want? I personally think it's the latter. we need to hold people like Chris chan accountable without getting caught up on something as minor **in comparison** as misgendering and self identification. Is it sad and confusing that someone who self IDs as transgender became 1:1 with the most dangerous stereotypes that exist for trans women? Of course it is. But it doesn't mean that self identification is suddenly more important than a literal crime being committed.

I would normally dismiss it as a fluke or outright trolling if the evidence weren't so damning that this is in fact a real event that happened. If I hadn't seen this happen to other people, and if I didn't literally know another mtf person who used their dysphoria as an excuse for date rape on multiple occasions and never got any consequences for it.

It's not a one time thing, it's a developing problem that we need to stop before more people have their lives ruined. I can't even imagine how traumatizing and messed up it is for an FTM person to be date raped, by another transgender person no less. When I, an abuse survivor, told people of this MTFs red flags, people violently silenced me. People who didn't know I was trans called me a terf and transphobic. We, as a community, could've protected someone from getting date raped, and we didn't. Trans women can be awful, horrible fucking people, because they are people. Protecting them at all costs is wrong. Protecting them from transphobia is what we should be doing.

That being said, misgendering is still skeevy, and I haven't done anything like raped a disabled woman who is no longer able to consent, or date raped my own partner. if you give a shit about respecting my identity, please use they/them for me. if not, use visual perception and make assumptions that will most likely be incorrect, skew your own argument, and put me on the same level as a rapist, and arguably a fetishist. And I do need to remind you that calling someone transgender a rapist and a fetishist without evidence is still definitely classic transphobia, to the letter, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that.

as someone who is same sex attracted, I also want to bring this up as well.

in the US in the past 15 years, the movement as a whole pretty much went "YEAH BORN THIS WAY" with Lady Gaga, and then jumped ship to prioritize mostly mtfs at every angle. do mtfs need support? absolutely. but they don't need misguided toxic positivity, and that's what it's turned into.

it's gotten genuinely homophobic to the point where actually homosexual people are constantly being erased and demonized via "genital preferences are a fetish uwu", and vulva havers, especially the trans ones, are constantly being told to shut up about their experiences.

as much as you want to deny bioessentialism, its still very much well and alive with newer trans movement sentiments when we classify ftms as not worthy of speaking about their own issues with terms like "TME". it's also incredibly ignorant towards FTMs who pass, but dress feminine for comfort, and get mistaken for MTF, and treated like garbage because of it. They are not remotely exempt from misogyny, transphobia, or the intersection of the two, and it is not anyone's job to tell them they don't ever experience that when they do. Turning ftms and biological homosexuals into our enemies-- especially when the actual cause is transphobia and harmful gender stereotypes-- does nothing good or healthy for our movement.

Dont be mistaken, though, passing isn't the focus or end all be all here, it's the perception of others that ends up drastically effecting your experiences. There are words like misogyny that imply treatment via birth sex, however this too can be reliant on external perception. If an MTF individual either transitions very young, has an abundance of resources to transition, or just gets lucky and passes well, chances are she will experience a lot more misogyny than people may give credit to. inversely, someone who just started questioning yesterday, but lived as a male their whole life up until then, they genuinely cannot speak about misogyny with that much room because they simply haven't experienced it at an accurate enough angle or for enough time to understand it as a repeated and sociological force.

It works the other way as well, though; someone who's known that they're trans for a long time and haven't had the resources to transition, or do not or cannot pass in the eyes of society; these people suffer pain that we don't neccesarily have a word for yet, imo. It makes dysphoria worse and it makes living seem hopeless. And as a community, we deal with this is in a really messed up way by over-validating them instead of solving the core issue at hand. and people who suffer from this, but also acknowledge they can't claim what they haven't experienced, are left with nowhere to go.

And its important to acknowledge these things because they're integral to the over-encompassing trans experience. Instead of lying to everyone and telling everyone they pass/giving out unconditional positive regard, our focus should be making it so that it **doesn't matter if you pass**. that you're still worth respect and dignity if you're transgender, no matter what passing is or what it means to you, and no matter how you present. But also, if you do something awful, you still need to be held accountable, especially if you use yourself, your body, or your trans status to contribute to other axi of oppression.

Transphobia is a word that encompasses and addresses all of that, regardless of birth sex. "TME" shuts that down in favor of only letting MTF's speak. Which is still very bio-essentialist, and I can't help but feel like we've gone full circle.

Once upon a time you couldn't even get married if your partner had the same genitals as you. in the US, this was less than 7 years ago. and if you care about human rights activism, you know damn well that legal modification is not the end all be all. people who are genuinely homosexual are still oppressed, but the trans movement has started stepping on them to make ground we don't deserve. homosexuals are ok and valid. it's not a genital preference, and the prescence of trans people doesn't make conversion therapy sentiments ok, ever.

we've gone full circle, and it's not right.

[ghostboybabies]

little ghost boy || [JATP Agere/CGLRE]- “Roses and Little Princes” (Chapter 7)

Reggie was woken up the next morning by a soft voice, pulling him out of his dreams. He was going to protest getting up, before he suddenly remembered the events of the night prior.

He sat up, dropping the stuffed bear that had been in his arms. It fell on the blanket next to him. "Whoa, calm down Reg! You're okay, I promise." Julie spoke, settling her hand on his shoulder. She sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"I'm so sorry about last night." Reggie began his anxious rambling despite her reassurance. "I was being a brat for no reason and I kept crying-"

"Reggie." Julie took over a tone not unlike the stern one used to get him to listen when he was small. Reggie went quiet, looking at Julie with a somewhat nervous look.

"You don't have to defend yourself, or apologize for anything. I'm not mad at you." She spoke in a sure, definite voice. Reggie seemed hesitant to believe her, but he nodded.

"Thank you." Reggie decided on his next words after a moment, giving Julie a small smile.

"For what?" She questioned, though she was fairly sure that she knew the answer.

"For dealing with me."

"Anytime." Julie paused, before speaking again. "I wanted to talk to you, about a few things. Is that alright with you?"

Reggie nodded slowly, looking a little anxious about whatever she was going to bring up. "First of all, Luke is distracting Alex right now, so if you wanna be little, you can."

Reggie chose nodding over verbal confirmation, so Julie continued speaking. "I guess I'll get straight to the point. How do you feel about telling Alex about all this?"

There was a pause, and Julie thought that maybe she shouldn't of brought it up. But just when she was going to let him know that he didn't have to answer, Reggie replied.

"I'm not completely against it," Reggie admitted, speaking up with a voice full of hesitancy. "It's still scary though. But I feel like he'd get it, he deals with anxiety too...worse then me really. I feel like he'd be glad I found a way to deal with it."

Reggie sounded hopeful, but also worried. "I think you're right. And no one said that you have to tell him now, Luke and I just thought we'd bring it up now so that you could think about it."

"Was there anything else?" Reggie questioned after a beat of silence.

"Hmm?" Julie hummed, seemingly confused.

"You said you wanted to talk to me about a few things." Reggie elaborated. Julie remembered the other thing she wanted to bring up.

"Oh! Yeah..um, I wanted to ask about the whole 'mama' thing..." Julie trailed off for a moment while Reggie's face went red, and he immediately avoided looking at her face. "There's nothing wrong with you calling me that! If I was uncomfortable with it, I'd tell you. I just wanted to know why, I guess. Is that something that's normal for littles?"

Reggie let out a light sigh of relief. Julie wasn't judging him, she was just curious. She didn't seemed concerned. Or angry...just curious. "Um..kinda? I'm sorry that I called you that without like, talking to you about it first." He apologized.

Julie shook her head. "If its something that makes you feel more comfortable in your headspace, I don't mind it." she repeated.

Reggie kept going. "Yeah. Some regressors have people that take care of them, like caregivers. And they might call them some variation of mom or dad because they play a parent role...and I guess little me recognizes you as 'the nice lady who cares for me' and it just kinda..slipped out a few times."

Julie only smiled, seemingly touched by that. "I'm glad you feel safe around me. I don't care if you wanna call me that, I just wanted to know why. That's all I wanted to talk about."

Reggie smiled a bit, feeling a lot less awkward. "Okay, cool. What are Luke and Alex doing?" He immediately found a way to change the subject, and Julie didn't seem to catch on, replying to his question.

"They're at the beach with Willie, I think. Alex mentioned wanting us to get to know Willie and Luke thought it'd be the perfect way to get him out of the house, because you seemed pretty worried that you wouldn't be able to regress." Julie explained.

Reggie frowned, and Julie interrupted his thoughts before he even got the chance to speak. "Don't apologize for misbehaving again. You wanted to stay up because you wanted to be little, you were upset reasonably. No ones mad at you."

Reggie shut up quickly, nodding in affirmation. Julie sounded so authoritative most of the time, always seeming as if she was right in what she said. She could say the craziest thing in that tone and Reggie would probably agree without questioning it.

"Anyways, I think it's time to get up. You slept in pretty late," Julie stood up, holding her hand out. Reggie took it, allowing her to pull him out of bed with no protest. He picked up the bear before straightening up, hugging it to his chest.

He noticed that Julie was looking at him, so he lowered the bear as if 'correcting' his actions. As if carrying the bear was wrong and he wasn't supposed to be doing it. He had a light pout on his face. Julie quickly jumped to reassure him.

"You're okay! I don't care if you carry the bear...you just don't do stuff like that when you're big. So I was wondering if you were feeling small," she explained, looking at Reggie expectedly.

"Am I allowed to?" Reggie asked, tilting his head and looking at her with curious and innocent eyes. He was slipping fast.

He didn't even really understand why. Being around Julie or Luke always made him feel a little small. They were so protective of him, caring and sweet. Always willing to give up time to take care of him. Reggie felt pretty bad about that sometimes, he felt like he took to much of their time.

"Of course you are, you can be little whenever you need to."

"B-but I dont need to be little right now," Reggie pouted, hugging the bear to his chest again. "I wanna be little. Should be big."

"No, baby." Julie correct him quickly, stopping his pouty rambling. "You're allowed to be tiny because you want to. You don't have to limit your headspace to when you're stressed, regressing for fun is completely okay."

Reggie hummed, nodding a bit. Julie could tell he wasn't completely little, but he wasn't far from it. "We should get you dressed in something soft. Don't you get uncomfortable in jeans after wearing them for so long?" Julie asked.

Reggie shrugged, bringing his thumb up to his lip. "Hmm. Well, how about we look at some of my clothes? If you don't find anything you like, you can stay in your clothes." She compromised.

Reggie nodded, following Julie's lead, walking over to her closet with her. "Do you see anything you like, Reg?"

Reggie settled his thumb into his mouth, his eyes glancing around the closet. His eyes paused on a solid red t-shirt, with Winnie the Pooh on it. He had never seen Julie wear it before, but he immediately wanted it.

He pointed to it silently, bouncing on his feet. "You want the Winnie shirt?" Julie smiled lightly, pulling it off of the rack and holding it up to him. While Reggie was taller then her, their clothing sizes didn't seem to be far apart. The shirt was cropped too, but Reggie didn't seem to care.

"Winnie! Cute bear," Reggie said simply. "Watch it wif Luke." He explained.

"Really? Maybe we could watch it later," Reggie smiled at that, seemingly excited at the possibility of that. "Only if you're really good today." Julie decided, tapping the button of his nose with the pointer finger of her free hand. She walked over and set the shirt on the bed, before going back to the closet.

She started rummaging through it, so focused on finding some suitable pants for the boy that she didn't notice him slip away from his spot next to her. It wasn't until she heard his frustrated toddler voice sound behind her that she realized.

"Juwie!" he whined, his shirt stuck part way over his torso. He had discarded his flannel on Julie's bed, and was trying to pull his black shirt off of him. "Hewp!" he requested,  Julie noticing the little frustrated huff he let out. This childish anger was the same thing that led him to his little temper tantrum the night before.

"I'm coming, baby!" Julie chuckled, coming over to him and instructing that he held his arms up. In no time, Julie got the shirt over his head, and it was discarded on the bed with the other article of clothing.

Reggie's face was painted with a little angry pout that amused Julie. He seemed to come to his senses, and that pout faded into a smile. "T'ank you!" he cheered.

"You're welcome, darling. But, you could've waited for me to help you in the first place," Julie said. Reggie seemed confused, shaking his head.

"Always do things m'self!"

"You don't have to, though. It's okay to ask for help," Julie told him, picking up the character shirt and pulling it over Reggie's head. He pushed his arms through their holes and pulled the shirt down. "You look so cute, Reggie!" Julie complimented, patting his head softly. Reggie blushed, biting his lip.

"Thanks." he mumbled, looking down at himself.

"Did you want to change pants, or were you just planning on stealing my shirt?" Julie questioned, crossing her arms.

"Stealing da shirt, das it." Reggie giggled, picking up the bear from where he had left it on the bed. Julie chuckled, shaking her head a bit.

"You're a silly baby, Reg."

"Siwwy," Reggie giggled again, bouncing on his feet. "Baby?" he pointed to himself after a moment, seemingly asking a question.

"Yeah, you're a baby. A very cute one at that," Julie tapped the button of his nose again, and Reggie face broke out into a smile.

Being reminded that he was, in fact, a baby, without any judgement, make him feel like it was okay to be that way. It made him feel smaller.

"Can I play now?" Reggie asked, holding the bear in his arms tight and looking up at Julie pleadingly.

Julie nodded. Seeing him so innocent, just wanting to play and cuddle, it was different. It made her happy to know that something as cute as this childish getaway helped him cope. And she wanted to help where she could.

"What do you wanna do, Little Prince?"

The new nickname slipped out of her mouth without any hesitation. It had popped in her head and she impulsively decided that it felt right. For a split second, Julie thought about taking it back.

But the moment she saw Reggie's shy smile, and the excited look on his face as he went to ramble about his options for playtime, she realized that the nickname made him happy.

It was like how Luke called him 'Little Rockstar' sometimes. Julie never called him that, it was something for Luke and Luke only. Something special for just them.

This was something special for him and Julie.

--

"Mama, da bear is red...like a rose!" Reggie looked at the stuffed toy in his lap. He was currently sitting on the ground in a criss-cross position, with Julie's laptop in front of him. As promised, Julie had put of Winnie the Pooh for them to watch together.

Julie nodded, "Yeah, like a rose." she hummed, pausing before continuing. "Roses are pretty flowers, don't ya' think?"

Reggie seemed confused as to why she was asking this, but he nodded firmly. He leaned his back against Julie's bed behind him. Julie didn't know why Reggie had wanted to sit on the ground instead of her bed, but she let him. He seemed comfortable just sitting on the fluffy rug, a soft blanket of Julie's pulled around his shoulders.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because roses are just like you!" Julie spoke in a playful tone that communicated that what she was saying was absolutely obvious. Reggie's eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head, his lips forming a light pout.

He didn't like not understanding things! It made him feel like a baby. Not in the good way either...he just felt stupid. Julie smiled, leaning closer to him and speaking in a quiet voice, as if her words were a secret. "You're a pretty flower." She spoke in a teasing voice, knowing the compliment would embarrass him.

He was just so cute when he got all shy.

Reggie took a second to register, but his face went red. He pulled the stuffed bear from his lap, lifting it up so that his face was covered. "Awe, don't hide from me, Flower!" Julie pulled a fake sad face, reaching forward to pull Reggie's arms (and therefore, the stuffed animal) down.

"You're mean, mama!" Reggie whined, turning his head so that he was looking away from Julie. Julie knew he didn't mean it, but she gasped.

"I'm mean for calling you pretty?"

Reggie hummed in affirmation, keeping a firm pout on his face. "How so, Reg?" Julie watched as he looked back at her, quickly jumping into the babyish logic behind claiming that she was mean.

He didn't seem to be able to come up with anything, though. He just pouted, huffing in frustration. "Mean!" he exclaimed.

"I think you're just pouty because I made you blushhh," Julie teased. Reggie continued to pout, scrunching up his nose. Julie considered continuing to push the teasing, but she figured that she'd eventually actually annoy him. If his angry pout meant anything, it seemed that she wasn't far from it.

She didn't want a grumpy little on her hands.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby." julie noticed that Reggie was actually paying attention to the cartoon again, wrapping her arm around him. Reggie leaned into her side, mumbling out a few words.

"It's okay, mama."

Those words made Julie smile. Over the past few weeks, Julie had been getting to know Little Reggie, while Luke, Julie, and Reggie became more closer overall. Reggie regressed quite a bit during this period, because it was the first time in his life where he felt safe too.

He had two amazing friends to go to, to take care of him. They didn't care if he regressed every other day, or if he was a handful to deal with. They were so supportive of this vulnerable, childlike part of himself. Because they cared about him.

Because they loved him.

And soon enough, Alex would meet Little Reggie too. The only question was, would he be as supportive as Luke and Julie were about it?

Reggie would find out come the time.

But 'the time', was sooner then anyone expected.

--

A/N:  Let me know if you liked this chapter! I kinda got caught up in Julie and Reggie's dynamic but I will return to the actual plot (kinda) in the next chapter!

[misterbitches]

wbl has mitigating circumstances that make sense wITHIN the story. non consensuality isn’t ok but there’s a foundation we see which, yes, is majorly failed in other tv shows. there are other ways to show whattever it is they feel like it (i watched the end of ep 2, im just too fuckin depressed rn to even think) but it’s intersting the cruelty exists not in A vacuum but the world with WBL creates where we can see that stark difference. something many BLs and shows in gen like kdramas or teen or new adult (essentially every youthfoul show cos exploitation and creator not caring) understand. TT is  a prime example of how it just doesn’t make sense these types of relationships unless there’s a solid enough foundation and at least a mild understanding of the inappropriateness.

right now, the toxicity is born out of like actual conflict. wer i  in in this situation, would i do any of that? no. in fact i’d beat anyone’s ass for ever manhandling me that way. i  want to itereate here emphasis none of this behavior is ok. since it is a tv show, they have more control and could ostensibly  have not written that. however, it’s okay for a show to flub that message, make us uncomfortable, or even truly fuck up the way we think it’s fucked up. i do NOT advise this to be a plan. HOWEVER: PEOPLE DO MAKE MISTAKES. the reddest flag of all is: ARE THEY WILLING TO CHANGE? if they are not, they do NOT deserve to be together.

which mbrings me here. theyre giving us a reason why.

the program gives itself the space and the foreground for it to be a story that isnt fuocused on how much they fuck and fight. ergo these behaviours cannot be repeated bc theyre in this instance. so many viewers of everything say people expect media to be perfect. no. we dont. it’s impossible and we live in a trash disgusting racist capitaist garbage hellfire. what you mean is you want to see people make mistakes but ultimately transgress them and sometimes people just do shit we wouldn’t forgive, or is  messed up, or the writers need to make DAMN FUCKING SURE is clear. 

but unlike most shows esp targeted for young teens both het and BL, thte consequences of love or what love means to young people is so skewed and poorly done because it’s by people who AREN’T that age, don’t know howhumans work, shit like that. i mean u can just tell by the acting even as sam is really goof and most experienced but has a real whole life outside of this persona, a girlfriend, goals of acting probably; showing what it’s like to be human in a way but not a projection of human fantasy through rape culture.

we like to see dysfunction for two reasons: as a way to get out of it or as a redemption arc

but for people who are making cheap shows for kids who don’t need to think about it it’s like: shitty execution, gross love, and no context for why they should even CONTINUE to stay together on top of the harm 

wbl is far from perfect like any other show  but it’s wil what happens when intentions are clear when you show them and so it’s easier for all of us to process. not to mention they built this story through blocks, the way one is supposed to, the relationship of the two of them when they hadn’t been intimate is very different from now 

GSD has to tell the truth, SY has to grow up, rich ppl suck. but it’s a good ride

as an aside is sam lin’s gf cute i hope so but like in a fun way idc abt model bitches it’s so obvious when men do that lmaoooooo but omg! i hope hes happy and also he and mr yu stay friends fro a long time!

oh and i wanna add that GSD’s life revolving around his love for shi yu is actually untrue. it’s a projectiona nd i think the illusion of that projection is brokena nd that’s a good thing. the show sets up an ensemble cast we vibe with, want to see, appreciate, and that means GSD has friends and loves. his life revolves aruond him and the way he sees the romance but he would have never let his mom go to the US by himself and i really hope the show explores why it is IMPERATIVE for him to find his own personhood and not just take care of others. 

his mom would want him to love every bit of his life. all consuming love is so beautiful but it’s only beautiful when you realize you have to survive to love someone so well. and when you survive and understand yourself, your loved ones feel it. they’re very reliable as a group friends and a people and shi de is and will always be a human outside of yu. he has to understand that. it was nice to see his anger at being played too cos it’s like yea that’s fucking disgusting and it hurts and kills you

i’m going to continue to assess the volatility within the story and its progression as much as i can if i can handle being online. this show really exceeds a lot of expectations and mostly i think i forget....it’s actually fun. i was so happy to see the way the dad came into the room in the morning bc i think that was so sweet and hopefully is an indicator of why he said to do what he did. unfortunately homophobic or not: he fucked up. majorly. as a parent, a confideant, a loved one. you do not do that. i am sorry. but they can bounce back. but that’s a lot of pain, ok? 

also i hate rich ppl did i mention that

oh one more thing idk if they had sex but dramas love to do the whole drunk ppl fucking thing and it’s fucking disgusting and will always be :)