#i say this because i've come across 'do what you want if it doesn't harm anybody!' in the same breath as 'your transition is harmful >:('

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 16

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I've made some cute headers for the thing!!! What do you guys think??

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15

• ··········· • ············ •

“Are you coming in or not?” He didn’t move as he spoke, and with a deep breath, you walked into the elevator.

You didn’t care for Rictus, not that he ever did you much harm personally, but you had heard the stories. Caitlyn would tell about how he ‘interrogated’ Zaunites, and you'd begged her to say something. Stop him, stop Ambessa. At one point you'd ask her if releasing the gray wasn't enough, and that got you the silent treatment for a while. He was loyal to the general and her ways, and unless the universe had given him the ‘broom-closet’ treatment, he was probably the same asshole.

The doors closed with a cheerful ping, and you stared straight ahead at your blurred reflection in the golden metal. You started to pray to whoever was listening for this to be a quiet and quick ride, but when you saw his reflection move, turning slightly towards you, you knew the elevator was the gods’ blind spot.

“What was the color?” He asked, his tone smug about something you weren’t yet privy to. “Excuse me?” You didn’t fully look at him, just tilted your head slightly towards him. “The rune…what was the color?" You could feel his grin as the words came out.

Son of a bitch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You turned back to stare in front of you with a deep sigh of annoyance coming out of you. “I know those distant looks into the void.” He straightened up too, grasping his hands in front of him. He wasn't trying to be menacing, but his weight alone was enough for him to be threatening no matter what he was doing. “In the beginning, it’s all very telling. The long stares into nothingness, the twitches when something gasps behind you. It’s all the same…”

There was no joking tone or sympathy in his voice, just knowledge. You supported the most blank expression you could muster as there was no sympathy in your eyes when you looked at his profile.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You punctuated every word, and he chuckled, his metal armor moving to the mocking sound.

“Was it Green? Golden? Blue? Purple?” He looked back at you, and the shattering sound started to reappear.

Apparently whatever micro-expression you gave him was enough for him to figure out as a grin spread across his face.

“Purple? Chaos then? Interesting…”

You looked at his expression with a scowl. It was more than obvious whatever you'd tell him was going to go straight out of your mouth into Ambessa’s ear. And yet he seemed to be the most knowledgeable person about actual magic. So the scowl was mixed with an eye roll of annoyance.

“What about it?” You looked back to your reflection. 

“Those don’t show up often.” You kept your mouth shut, waiting for him to continue. "The Arcane doesn't trust us with those runes." "Us?" "Imperfect beings." His tone showing a displeasure at that description. "We cannot be trusted with chaos, because we like to jump into the dark waters without thinking of the consequences."

A moment of silence passed between you two. Somewhere in the back of your mind, another voice talked to you about imperfections and how it should be a priority of all beings to become their most perfect self. Now that you thought about it, the whole spiel made sense. He was a version of the Arcane.

“What would happen if I were to use it?” You side-eyed him; he tilted his head towards you much like you did before. "I suggest using it on someone you don't like." He looked at you smugly.

You looked at him straight in the eye, face blank, eyes on fire, a predatory grin unconsciously showing on your face. You saw the wall behind him start to shatter just like a window in the lab.

The arrogance on his features quickly disappeared. His shoulders tensed and his fists clenched. He wasn’t the only one who could read body signals. He was readying himself for something. The door pinged, and he took a step forward.

“You’d be dead before you finished speaking the rune.” he said as he passed by you.

That was enough for you to know the purple chaos rune was something even Rictus didn’t want to deal with.

• ············ •

After four or five weeks of popping into this dimension, the mystery was over: you finally found out what your mother’s commission to the lab was. It was a small machine that would be able to read out loud any document it scanned.

You brought a new couch to the lab at the beginning of the week. It was made from the same material as the armchairs on the penthouse's veranda. The shine in Viktor’s eyes could have lit up a dark room, as Jayce groaned.

“Thank you…now he’s never going home.” He had said. “He is. Mom is sending another one to his apartment.” You’d retorted.

After that, Viktor promised to make 'The Reader' his priority.

And that brought you to the lab, waiting for Viktor to finish something on the invention as you sat on the upholstery.

You understood at the moment the appeal of that cushioning, melting into it as Viktor turned his stool to you, placing the goggles on his forehead, his disheveled hair making him look like a mad scientist.

“I think we can try to make it work…Hopefully it will work,” he said, tilting his head to the side, looking at it with doubt, his hand going to the hairs on the back of his head.

“Explain to me again what it does.” You pointed your eyes gazing at the weird contraption.

You’d seen some beautiful things come from this lab in your timeline. This, though? ...was not it. Even though both men kept promising to make it look nice, the skeleton of the machine was nightmarish. 

It had four long legs that came out of a funnel-like tube. The end of the tube had a glass lens with four little prongs to secure the hex gem on it, and two small speaker cones finished up the structure. It looked like a spider playing two tiny trumpets.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and pointed to the metal structure. “We call it 'The Reader' because, well, that is what it does." "Did you name it?" You joked, and he looked at you, rolling his eyes pointedly. "Maybe..." He gave you a grin and went back to the explanation. "You put a paper with something written on this side.”

He grabbed a small piece of paper, wrote something on it, and placed it on the lower part of the thing.

“And then you turn the switch.” He flipped a little metallic switch, and the hex gem shined, a ring of arcane symbols floating around it. 

A blue cone of light came from the lens and reflected on the page; a small, brighter rune shined, and a line of brighter light from the cone traced the letters. After a few seconds, a noise that sounded like a record scratch started to come out of the speakers.

“Hello, I am Viktor.” The machine whirred, and a very mechanical Viktor voice came out of the machine.

It was far more similar to the Herald’s voice than you’d expect, and for a moment you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You blinked slowly, trying to stop the spiral about to start.

“I can change the voice…” Viktor interrupted your silence. You looked up at his cringing expression. “I don’t think my accent helps with the clarity of the reading.”

“It’s a perfectly good accent if you ask me.” You blurted out, your mind still a little light. "And if you're going to try and somehow use it in the Undercity, perhaps a familiar accent would help."

"Has your mother told you the purpose of the machine?" He asked, turning to you in his stool, knees bumping into yours.

"It's my mother's project. A project that you are overseeing. The target audience is very easy to guess." You shrugged and leaned back into the couch.

“I don't know if I like being that obvious with my intentions.” Viktor's had a joking tone, and you snorted. 

Without another word, he turned the page over on the small table under the lens and flipped the switch again. The cone of blue light came over the text, and the small bright line started to trace the letters again.

A very stoic and misplaced Viktor voice came from the invention, this time sounding more comical than threatening since it was clear that the hex gem was trying to add sounds together unnaturally.

“This is the letter A.” It said, and you started to have difficulty controlling the laughter, the chuckles and snorts becoming hard to swallow. “It can be read as apple or nation. It can—

The runes started to move faster around the hex gem, and the sound coming from the speakers became distorted, much like a record player replaying a damaged part of a vinyl record.

“It can—hello—Letter A—read as I’m—Apple—Viktor—Nation.” It repeated a string of nonsensical words as it started to die down. You both looked at each other. Viktor with a concerned look, you with a humorous one. “I’m Vikt-or nation…Hello, Viktor, or nation”

The sound warbled out into silence. You sucked your lips, trying to stop the fit of laughter, but it was inevitable. You saw Viktor's chest shake, and a small string of laughter came out.

“It may need a few adjustments!” Viktor scratched the back of his neck. “Just a few?” “Yes. Well, last time I worked on it, no sound would come out. This is progress. Sort of…” He touched the machine with a screwdriver, and the thing went back to its incoherent speech, grabbing words from the paper and jumbling them together in an incoherent form.

You got back to laughing until Viktor detached the hex gem from its place, the machine dying without another sound.

“I don’t think you’re getting there with a few adjustments.” You looked at both the invention and the inventor with your head.

Viktor gave you an annoyed look, grabbed the metal spider machine, placed it carefully on his workstation, and started to tinker with the machine once again.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies

[uncanny-tranny]

Something I wonder when people say "do what you want as long as it doesn't harm anybody" is that it opens a question people don't always answer: how do we define harm?

I agree that people should be "allowed" (hate that phrasing) to live how they want/need to live, but when we attach "...as long as it doesn't hurt others!" I sometimes wonder how harm is defined. I think it's intuitive to define harm as physical, but we know that that isn't the only type of harm out there.

I'm not trying to be ornery or whatever, but I do want to encourage people to think critically about how they view and define harm. It's vital that we should have an idea about what harm is, lest we oppress people because we think they are "harming" others (e.g., "you can't transition because it stresses me out!")

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.

But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.

Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:

Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.

But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.

I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.

There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."

I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.

(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)

That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.

I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.

So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.

But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.

So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.

Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?

Even the ones who might disagree with you?

Even if they're on welfare?

Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?

Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷‍♀️.

[muddyorbsblr]

bad feeling

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki's entrance into the Avengers Compound depends on your approval

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning/s: minor character that's teeming with douchebag energy and doesn't age check before sliding into the DMs; language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); my rusty af writing (it's been months and honestly this might be cringe but if it is don't tell me i'm sensitive--) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: metahuman Reader in denial; instalove trope alert (i didn't think i'd ever be writing that but here we are)

"Brother, this is truly unnecessary," Loki groaned, fighting every urge to drag his feet as his brother led him down the halls of the Avengers Compound, avoiding the mix of curious and alarmed stares from the Midgardians donning near-identical jumpsuits. "Rogers' begrudging approval of your truly asinine idea was enough, you need not lead introductions. I am quite sure that Stark and the rest of your comrades have not forgotten who I am."

Thor simply rolled his eyes in response. "Of course they have not forgotten, Brother, but we have had quite the number of newcomers, and I will run not the risk of them reacting with hostility if they cross paths with you. So I shall conduct a simple extemporized introductory session with them so they may…acclimate to your presence in the Compound. And not think it a clandestine invasion and trigger a security lockdown."

As if right on cue, two faces, one familiar and the other quite new to the god of mischief approached, the sounds of their jovial exchange coming to a deadening halt. The smiles on their faces quickly morphed into furrowed brows and battle stances. "Thor, why have you brought him here?" the woman with auburn hair questioned, a red energy that he recognized as Chaos Magic forming in her hands while her companion, Romanoff, looked ready to strike.

"Please, stand down, my friends." The blond god held his hands up in front of them. "He means no harm, I promise you. I've brought him here so that perhaps he could join--"

"Not a fucking chance, Barbie," Romanoff seethed. "I still remember the mind job he did--Wanda what are you doing? Why are you actually listening--"

"Because some time ago I did what you call a 'mind job' on the rest of you," she answered the former Russian spy simply, standing down and waving her magic away. "And now here I get to stand, calling you all my friends. Because you forgave me for my misdeeds. Gave me a second chance. I think we should all extend the same kindness now."

"I commend the way you think, Maximoff," Rogers' voice echoed across the common area, bystanders not so subtly beginning to crowd the area surrounding them, only parting to let the super soldier through and take his stance in the middle of the group. "Much as I'm not the biggest fan of Mister Leather and Metal 'you will all kneel before me', Wanda's right." He took a step back and addressed the room. "Everyone, Loki will be joining us for the foreseeable future. I expect you all to make an effort to help him adjust to his new life here on Earth. Or at least not get in his way. Now, back to work. All of you."

The curious agents all scattered about, returning to their tasks prior to the Asgardian brothers arriving.

"Thank you, Steven," Thor spoke up once the bystanders made themselves scarce. "You will not regret--"

"Not so fast, Odinson." Rogers threw his hand up, stopping his brother's words short. "I want him to meet Y/L/N first. If she says he won't give us any grief, then he can stay. She says no? You'll have to find another place to park your brother."

"Hey--!" Loki fought back the urge to throw a dagger in the soldier's direction. "I am not some meager property that needs to be set down--"

"If you would rather Strange lock you back in an eternal fall, that can be arranged," he shot back, the muscles in his jaw twitching in a telltale sign that he was fighting back a smug grin. He motioned toward the interrogation area, showing the way. "Meet Y/L/N, and we'll go from there."

Thor led the way further into the Compound and past the common area, the temperature dropping significantly and impelling the god to cast an enchantment that would raise his core temperature so as to not trigger his Jotun form to emerge. "Apologies, Brother," he spoke as they made their way down the hall. "There have been suspicions that an intern for one of SHIELD's departments has been a HYDRA operative attempting to pilfer data to fuel some form of invasion. This individual is in one of the interrogation rooms now awaiting Y/N's arrival, and the temperature was her idea. Put the young man in a sense of high discomfort to lower his guards."

"Have him focus on making his body cope with the temperature rather than his mind on deflecting her queries," he surmised, nodding his head as they stepped into the viewing area, laying eyes on the clearly novice employee in that same jumpsuit the others wore outside. His breathing was jittery and labored, rubbing his hands furiously to generate even some form of heat. It wouldn't be difficult to break through his defenses. "She's a clever one, that mortal. Though I could save you all the interrogation and read the lad's mind--"

"No no," Thor waved him off, motioning for him to look into the room once more. "I want you to see her at work. It's rather fascinating watching her work, and the machination of her mind is rather…perplexing."

"Should we be contacting one Doctor Foster to inform her of his…fascination of yours, Brother?" he gibed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and finding himself a touch more curious when Thor simply laughed off the question.

"My heart is Jane's and Jane's alone, Brother. You know this," he answered, giving his brother a pointed look. Guilt sat heavily on his heart, knowing full well the words that the god of thunder chose to omit. Considering that I destroyed the Bifrost just to protect her from you.

It would take time before amends were made for making that particular threat, no matter how empty it truly was.

Before Loki could say anything, the door on the other side of the two-way mirror opened, a hard-faced Agent Romanoff entering the room and taking the seat opposite the suspected traitor. She made a point to shrug off her jacket and bare her arms, the action making the young man's face twist in derision, undoubtedly because it challenged his quite fragile ego even more.

"I have nothing to say to you," he said, the shaking tone of his voice betraying him. "Why aren't you cold? You all did something to me, didn't you? Made your freaky witch friend cast some curse on me?"

Romanoff leaned back against her chair, her smirk growing as his scowl deepened. "Where I was from, this is what summer felt like," she shot back casually, keeping her tone even despite the bold-faced lie. "And I don't need you to say anything." She jutted her chin in the direction of the door, a proud look on her face as you walked in to the room. "I just need her to look at you."

"Mister Park…" you droned, taking your time to cross the distance from the door to the cold metal desk. "I'm Agent Y/L/N, I'll be your interrogator."

You leaned in to the edge of the table, gripping the corners. Your body stiffened for a few seconds as you took a sharp breath, adjusting to the frigid cold. There was a distant, calculating, enigmatic smile on your face as your eyes roamed his features. Almost as if you were picking away at the fragments of his protective shell, exposing the answers he refused to give with just that one look.

It was a sight that was all too familiar to him. Something his mother would use on suspected traitors to the Realm back in Asgard. Perhaps that was what you were doing, after all. Or perhaps it was a well-crafted facade. Something that Romanoff or another former spy within SHIELD's ranks had taught you to unnerve its recipient.

"Like I told Agent Hot Stuff over there, I have nothing to say to any of you," he sneered.

"And like Agent Romanoff told you, we don't need you to say anything. All you have to do…is sit there." You squinted your eyes at him, sighing deeply as you said the words that apparently cemented the suspected traitor's fate. "I've got a bad feeling about you." You leaned in close, invading his personal space and making him even more visibly uneasy, not even bothering to mask how his body was shaking. "Nice contacts."

In a heartbeat, Agent Romanoff leaned across the desk and grasped the bottom of the apparently confirmed traitor's face, the man they called Park now wincing and groaning in even more discomfort as she inspected his eyes. "Implants?" she asked you.

"Seems buddy boy here's really committed to the cause," you remarked, mocking their organization's salute. "Helium Hydrogen or some shit."

Park slammed his fists down on the table, neither woman even flinching at the outburst. As if you both saw it coming. "It's Heil Hydra, you stupid bitch!" he screamed, fighting against Romanoff's hold and trying to stand up from his seat to charge at you.

You, however, simply responded with a self-satisfied grin as you called out toward the other side of the door, "And there's our verbal confirmation! Lock 'im up." And just to goad the traitorous intern on further, you ruffled his hair and looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Thank you for your cooperation."

Right as you said the words, Rogers burst into the room along with two other agents, flanking him and restricting his movement so he couldn't charge at anyone in the room. "Put him in the holding cells until transport gets here," he instructed the agents, who simply nodded and walked the traitor out of the room.

You and Romanoff turned off the lights and walked out arm in arm. Loki caught a smidgen of your conversation about meeting the significant other of another new Avenger. Something about "earning your stamp of approval".

"What did I tell you, Brother?" Thor prompted, nudging his arm.

"Fascinating," he mumbled, unable to wipe the image of that enigmatic smile of yours from his mind. Wondering what you looked like when you were genuinely beaming at something. Or someone. "It seems she's somewhat telepathically inclined."

"That is what many of us have been trying to tell her, but she refuses to listen. Insists that she is simply better inclined at reading others from her years of dreadfully flawed relationships of 'every kind'," he explained, leading him down the same hallway that you and Romanoff had disappeared to moments ago. "Repeatedly tells us that her most effective and only teacher has been, in her words, her life's revolving door of shitty people."

"And Rogers wishes for me to meet this Y/N so that she may what? Approve of my being here? He defers to her when it comes to newcomers in your merry band of his realm's mightiest heroes?" He tried to mask his curiosity with his signature smarm, trying to seem disinterested in what seemed like an initiation rite.

But in truth he was all the more looking forward to being face to face with you.

"She has not yet been incorrect in the years that I have known her. And you have nothing to fret about, Brother. You will make a fine addition to this team," the blond said proudly, both of them finally arriving to the considerably warmer common area. Loki finally lifted his enchantment, no longer concerned of his Jotun form emerging as his brother raised his hand and called out in your direction, "Y/N! I have returned from Asgard and there is someone I wish for you to meet--"

"In a minute, Barbie. Carter's bringing in her latest beau. Something about her wanting me to have a read on him before she gets too invested," you answered him, throwing your hand up in their direction. You threw a cursory glance their way, barely registering the raven-haired god, before returning your gaze to the door where another unfamiliar face walked in, arm in arm with a man whose entire aura screamed 'philanderer'.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Nathan. Nathan, sweetie, this is my friend--"

"Wow you're stunning," the man said, raising his hand in front of him, seemingly to shake yours. But the positioning seemed…off. As if he were to turn your hand and kiss the back of it the second you even brought yours a fraction of an inch upward.

One look into this Nathan's thoughts all but confirmed it. Along with all the other deplorable indiscretions he had stacked against him.

If the god's suspicions were right and you truly were telepathically inclined, you would see those indiscretions, too. With the right guidance, you could explore the true scope of your abilities. Perhaps even advance them.

Your unmoving stance brought along a disquiet to your friend's features, her smile fading into a grim line as her eyes drooped and her posture slumped. She'd seen this reaction from you before, and she seemed to already brace herself for your next words.

"I've got a bad feeling about you," you said in an ominous tone, standing at your full height before tilting your head slightly. From where he stood, Loki could see the man grow visibly anxious, his pulse quickening and beating furiously against his neck.

"What--Why what'd you see?" your friend croaked out, fighting back sobs.

You chose to instead address the deplorable excuse of a man. "You checked out no less than three women since you walked through the front door, and at least twice you wondered if any of them would be down for a threesome. You have a secret social media account that you use to sext other women and send them your dick pics, ohh and by the way…that pump that you're using? Doesn't do shit."

The god had never seen someone's complexion visibly pale until now, Nathan losing all color in his face as if he'd been drained of blood. "You--You d-don't know what you're talking about, you fucking freak!" He looked to Carter, his eyes rife with panic. "Babe, your weird friend here's just pulling this all out of her ass, she's lying--"

His paltry laughable excuses were cut off with a chorus of hissing sounds and "ooh"s and "yikes" from your team, as if his words were so offensive they physically stung. Stark spoke up, clapping his hand down on the man's shoulder. "Now see here, Rudolph the horny reindeer, you've made at least five mistakes since you stepped through that door. But calling Y/N here a liar? Yeah, that dug your grave, dick for brains."

"Well then she's wrong!" he whined, grabbing for his lover's hands and holding on with a death grip. "Baby, you know me, I'm your pookie bear. I would never hurt you--"

"Oof goddamn now I wish I was lying," you quipped, a mixture of surprise and disgust coloring your features. "You couldn't waterboard that nickname out of me. Maybe try going for something that doesn't sound like a name a toddler would give a stuffed animal for the next one? You probably have her all lined up, right? Somewhere in all those DMs and FaceApp'd shrimpy photoshoots?" You took a step closer, not seeming to care about how his free hand was clenched so tightly into a fist that it began to shake. "By the way, I hope you age checked those girls. I'll give you two pieces of free advice. First? Age of consent in New York is seventeen. Second? Don't treat it like a damn target."

Your friend Carter finally jerked her hand out of his and struck him across the face, the sound reverberating through the common area. Stark raised his brows and nodded at her in approval, making a remark about how he wished he had some popcorn.

"It's over," she told him. "I don't ever want to hear from you again." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she said the words and motioned toward the same door they walked through just minutes before.

"I'm not going anywhere," he insisted, acting like a misbehaving toddler and stomping his foot. "Why would you even believe this freaky little bitch over your own boyfriend, I thought we had some--"

"Because we trust her, cradle robber. And to this day she's never been wrong about a damn thing," Stark sniped, walking over and putting himself between you and the increasingly belligerent Nathan. He placed a tablet in Carter's hands. "I took the liberty of getting into his second account and sending screenshots of his messages to…well, just about everyone in his contacts list. But I figured you ought to see it and scroll through the messages first hand, Sharon."

At this moment, Loki caught another glimpse into the philandering man's mind, seeing a vision of him intending to attack you and strangle you with his bare hands. And just as the god suspected, you had glimpsed the same thought running through his mind, side stepping out of the way just before Nathan could get a hold of you. He watched with more than mild amusement as Thor stepped forward next and grabbed the whining man by the back of his shirt and lifting him into the air.

"Any mortal capable of even the tiniest amount of coherent thought would know better than to attack my friends," the blond said in a low, authoritative tone that eerily reminded Loki of their father. He promptly walked Nathan to the same door that he and Carter had walked through; Loki could see that his brother was physically fighting the urge to give the impudent puny mortal a swift kick to his rear as he gave him a nudge out of the premises.

"Thank you, Barbie," you spoke, an equally amused look on your face after witnessing the whole ordeal. "Always knew it was a good idea to have an Asgardian bouncer guard dog around."

Once Thor had made his way back to you and the rest of the team, you and he grasped each other's forearms. A show of respect that the blond oaf usually only had reserved for his closest comrades, the Warriors Four. Only recently had he even done that with Loki, and while the god of mischief would never admit it aloud, the gesture had him fighting back that traitorous prickling in the backs of his eyes.

"Speaking of having Asgardians in the Compound, there is someone I wish for you to meet, Lady Y/N," he spoke, motioning toward his brother. You tilted your head, a smile so starkly different from the one you had in the interrogation room brightening your features the moment your eyes met Loki's. "This is my brother, and he could be quite an invaluable asset to the team."

"With your go ahead, Agent Y/L/N," Rogers spoke from his seat, intently watching the scene play out before him. Once again agents had begun to crowd around them, completely halting their movements to bear witness. "Like Stark said, we trust you."

You barely gave a response, the only indicator that you'd even heard Rogers' words being a slight jut of your chin in his direction. Loki took your considerably smaller outstretched hand in his, taking every bit of his strength to stay upright as the visions bombarded his mind. The smallest gasp slipped from your lips. You took a moment to compose yourself before you spoke, addressing the team.

"All clear, he can stay," you announced, a boisterous whoop coming from Thor the second you gave your judgment. Neither of you made a move to let go of the other's hand.

"Okay not to take a page out of your book here, jellybean, but…" Stark spoke, breaking you two out of your own little bubble. He pointed his finger back and forth between you and the raven-haired god. "I've got a bad feeling about the two of you."

Stop smiling, you literal idiot, you chided yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment. There was no logical reason to even be thinking of the new member of the team now that you weren't around him, and yet you couldn't get the jet black-haired Asgardian dressed in dark emerald leather out of your mind.

The bar must have been in hell if all it took to get you to actually smile was the fact that the second you two met eyes, no alarm bells went off the way that they did for that newbie traitor…or Sharon's now ex boyfriend. The only hunch that you got looking at him was that he was definitely there to watch the interrogation and trying to figure out how you clocked the iris implants on Park.

"Maybe if he figures it out, he could clue me in on it, too, because I don't have the foggiest fucking idea where that came from," you muttered into the emptiness. And then like clockwork, you found yourself thinking about his blinding brilliant smile again.

And the way his hand completely dwarfed yours.

And how even in those few moments in the common room, being around him for some reason blanketed you in this feeling as if, for the first time in a long time, you didn't have to be as careful anymore. Like you no longer had to constantly be looking over your shoulder because someone might actually have your back and--

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Y/N," you grumbled at yourself, staring down your reflection. "How many times have you had your heart shattered from trusting too easily? Feeling safe around him is exactly why you shouldn't feel safe, why is it that for all the people that trust your instincts, you can't seem to listen to them yourself? And have I lost my freaking mind I am talking to my own--"

Knock knock knock

The sound came from your front door, snapping you out of your rant. "Who in the fuck?"

A lump formed in your throat when you opened the door, looking up at the exact stormy blue eyes that refused to leave your mind since you met him a little over an hour ago. The ones that made a question form in your mind that you couldn't bring yourself to voice out.

Why do I have a good feeling about you?

"Loki…" you said his name slowly, trying your best to ignore how bizarrely right it felt to say it. As if you were meant to. As if you were going to say it -- scream it, even -- for years to come.

"Good evening, Y/N." What you couldn't ignore was how the sound of your name from his lips made your knees want to buckle. "I wish to speak to you about something that I saw when I touched your hand earlier. A vision. Of the future."

The lump in your throat suddenly got bigger. "Ohh God am I gonna die? Soon? Because if I am I don't want spoilers, not even hints, what's gonna happen is gonna--"

"I saw us," he cut you off, reaching for your hands and rubbing circles on the inside of your wrists. "Years of stolen glances and missed opportunities and unsaid words. And it was only at the brink of losing you forever that I finally would find the courage to tell you of my affections."

There were no words, all you could do was blink at him as you tried to process his words. Looking desperately for the telltale signs that there was a disconnect between what he was saying and what his actual intentions were for coming to you like this. The disconnect that was present with most men that you were face to face with.

And yet your intuition, that hadn't failed you for as long as you could remember, was practically squealing with glee that you could feel safe around the god.

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked him. You were surprised you could even form words. Or that you somehow managed to bite your tongue from letting slip a more abrasive question.

He stepped closer to you, a soft smile on his face as he gently framed your face with his hands. "I don't wish to spend the next years pining away and foolishly waiting for the timing to be just right. I had glimpsed our future, and it was…" His smile widened into a brilliant grin, his thumbs tracing along your cheekbones. "It was resplendent. Having even the most fleeting glimpse that what we would have, it had me awash with…peace. The kind that I had longed for for centuries."

Your breath hitched when he pressed his lips to your forehead, your heart pounding away furiously in your chest. You knew a little too well the feeling that he was describing. That feeling of peace. Of a calm quietude that put you at ease even if the world would have been crashing down around you.

That feeling like you were home.

"Now as for your unspoken question," he whispered, breath warming your skin. "Of what am I doing here…I wish to change that future. Or rather, hasten it along. If that is what you want as well, of course."

He pressed his forehead to yours, loosely wrapping his arms around you. All you could do was nod, secretly grateful that he was holding you upright because the violent fluttering in your stomach was making it hard to stand.

That feeling spread throughout your entire body like wildfire when he briefly brushed his lips against yours; you could feel how much restraint he was exerting to pull away. To test the waters. To wait for you to tell him it was alright.

And you let out the words that were fighting to break free since you first saw him earlier today. "I have a good feeling about you."

A/N: *peeks out from behind the laptop* ohai there…long time no see 🙈 Imma say it again because it bears repeating: I'm rusty as all fuck and I might be for a while, but I'm trying to get back into writing since I haven't really done much ever since starting the new job. But things are finally beginning to settle down and normalize, so I'm trying to somehow find a groove again.

I'm gonna be so real w/ y'all, the next stuff on my queue is RTC and 'the final Lady Sharpe' and with how rusty my prose feels, I'm so scared to touch them 😂

Also this is another story that was inspired by a TikTok pov trend. The one where people lip sync and act along to the song that goes "Oompa Loompa doopadeedoo I've got a bad feeling about you", as if it wasn't cringe enough 🥴🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

[allastoredeer]

Hello, don't mind me, I just need to vent for a second.

First off, I just wanna say, as an aroace person on the ace-spectrum, feel free to ship Alastor all you want. Ship him with anyone. Have fun with it. Sex repulsed. Non-sex repulsed. Grey-ace. Demisexual. Pure unadulterated smut. Whatever, have at it. I love that shit.

Just please do it without infantilizing ace-aro people.

The amount of art, fics, and takes I've come across that's so patronizing to Alastor and his sexuality. Thing's like Alastor venting to Rosie about his feelings for a character with the caption "Alastor feeling love for the first time." Or Alastor wanting to have sex with a character and having feelings about that, and someone commenting "That's called a boner, sweetheart. That means you like them 🤭"

Like??? Like do ya'll not see how patronizing that sounds? Being ace-aro doesn't mean you don't know your own body. It doesn't mean you don't understand the functions of your body.

It doesn't mean you've never experienced intense emotions. It doesn't mean you've never experienced love before.

And, look, I know these are meant to be jokes. I know. People are joking. I laughed at the first few I came across, too. It's not meant to be harmful or condescending; no one means it that way. But there's been so much with such...bad takes recently, and I don't know about any other ace-spec people (I don't speak for all ace-specs. Hell, there are probably other ace-spec's who don't mind, enjoy it, or are making content like it themselves. I just speak for myself) but GOD it's getting uncomfortable.

Alastor is in his late 30's-early 40's in human years. That is the established age range we have for him. Do you really think that he'd go that long without ever experiencing "love?" He went through puberty just like everyone else, do you think he doesn't understand his own body???

Being asexual, or sex-repulsed, or touch-repulsed doesn't mean you automatically don't explore these parts of yourself. It doesn't mean he's never, once in his life, touched his own dick, or pussy, or whatever genitalia you're giving him. He can still very well be a "virgin" (which in and of itself is a social construct) while also knowing his body and confidently handling any "sexual needs" he has.

Do you really think he doesn't know what a boner is? That in all the years he's been alive and dead (on Earth and in Hell), he wouldn't have experienced these things once? (And you know what? Maybe he hasn't! Perhaps there are ace's out there like that! But you're telling me he doesn't KNOW what that is??? Really???)

Ah, no, it's all because he just hasn't found the right person yet, right? It's not until Lucifer/Angel Dust/Vox, whoever found him, and they gave him these feelings, and oh no, poor Bambi is feeling twitterpated and horny for the first time, isn't that romantic!

Honestly, not really. It just sounds like the same, stupid shit ace-aro people hear from family, friends, and acquaintances about their sexuality. You know, the tried and true: "Oh, you just haven't found the right person yet. You'll want all that eventually, you'll see😊"

Do you not see how frustrating that is?

Look, I am all down for Alastor exploring parts of himself. I want him to navigate different relationships, feel them out, figure out what kind of relationship he wants and what he's okay and not okay with doing. But there are ways to do that without treating him like a little UwU silly baby boy who doesn't know his own body, or his own emotions, or his own relationships with other characters. Like he needs someone to teach him about himself.

How about instead, he finds someone he feels comfortable exploring these elements with? Instead of them "teaching" him how to fuck, or masturbate, or whatever the hell you want to call it, they're giving him the room and safe-space to explore it at his own pace??!!

It comes across as someone who isn't on the ace-spectrum "teaching" an ace-spec character about their own sexuality which puts such a gross taste in my mouth. Or, at least, that's how it comes across to me.

And the thing is, I know people aren't going to stop. I know they're going to keep infantilizing Alastor and his aro-ace identity, and I wasn't originally going to make this post, because you can't control what people do in fandom.

So this is mostly just a post to say: HEY! Hello! Ace-aro person here! I hope you all are having fun and I love that you're exploring Alastor's asexual/aromantic identity! Especially those who may not be in the ace-spectrum themselves, as you're learning about us and our experiences! That's awesome! Can we just do that while also treating Alastor like the adult he is? Can we do that without being infantilizing and patronizing about his sexual identity? Please?"

That's all I really wanted to say. I just needed to get this off my chest instead of letting it fester. This isn't an attack on anyone, this is just the perspective of an Alastor multi-shipper who loves exploring his relationships with other characters (sexually and non-sexually) and deep-diving into the dynamics of the show.

Thanks for reading.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Reading the book, and I'm already loving it. I agree with a lot of the things y'all say in it (players control the characters, not the narrator, etc.), but I was surprised at the strong insistence on 3rd person play.

Personally I like 1st person play because it helps me with immersion. If I play in 3rd person then my mental camera goes 3rd person, which feels more like playing a video game and removes that thrill of embodying someone else and living in a new world.

Usually I see people either take a strong pro 1st person stance, or a noncommittal stance, but this is the first time I've come across a game that insists on the 3rd person. I'm curious about the reasoning behind it. Was it just a philosophical decision, or did it bear out in playtesting that 3rd person was the better method? In the book y'all acknowledge that 3rd person play doesn't eliminate the threat of griefing from bad faith players.

Y'all clearly put a lot of thought into the game, so that really interested me. Could be a good learning opportunity!

I passed this on to one of our team and this is what she had to say:

In addition to our own home table just preferring to play in 3rd person, we believe that perspective is an important element of TTRPGs that doesn't get explored very often in the modern landscape. The games we play are composed of language - not just the words on the page, but the words we say at the table. Changing the verbiage will create a different emotional space, and a different experience. That zoomed out mental camera you describe is part of the point! In any TTRPG, players are always two things: participant, and audience. The narration we employ at the table affects the game world, yes, but we are also the only people there to see it play out. Eureka strongly emphasizes the "audience" side of that equation, and wants to frame the "participant" side as an act of authorship and discovery rather than one of inhabiting the world.

Just on a fundamental level, perspective is a defining part of any media - the camera angle in a movie or video game, the person of a book's prose, who tells the story, and who they tell it for. The way we frame a story changes the response it evokes. As you say, you've seen either strong pro-1st-person stances or neutral ones, but not a strong pro-3rd-person stance. I don't think that's because 1st person is inherently better for this sort of game, I think its because there is a tendency in the hobby right now - for a variety of reasons - to treat TTRPGs like a form of improv theater. That's not a problem in isolation per se, but I think it's one that limits what the medium can be or do. TTRPGs can be improv theater, but is that all they can be?

On a final note, we have also seen the insistence on 1st-person play and the approach of "embodying" a character occasionally cause real harm when the people involved have trouble separating player and character. That's also part of the reason we're so insistent about these being two separate people, because investigators tend to do some pretty messed up things (this being a horror focused game, after all), and we don't want people equivocating their friends with the characters they play when that level of emotional intensity is involved. Many people who play in 1st person are able to engage with that in a healthy way and understand the difference, of course, but I think it's hard to deny that the language makes that equivocation easier.

- @ashweather (person from out team who doesn't normally run this blog)

Adding on myself, another thing that I always like to bring up in this discussion is that first-person verbiage did not used to be so universal! Playing in the hobby even 4 or 5 years ago, you'd see (or at least I would see) a mix of third and first person verbiage at tables, and even people who used both interchangably. It's only in the past few years that third-person verbiage for TTRPGs has gone practically extinct, and i think most of the blame lies at the feet of big-budget "actual play" shows like Critical Role being many people's only reference for how a TTRPG can be played. Critical Role uses first-person, so therefor that's how TTRPGs are played.

I've even had people tell me on multiple separate occassions "that's wrong" when I'm trying to use third-person verbiage for TTRPGs, when playing with rulebooks which explicitly say in their text early on "you can use 1st or 3rd person to describe your character's actions"! (most, if not all, D&D edition rulebooks say this!)

In closing, yeah, if Eureka were a video game, it would be in third-person. Eureka doesn't want you in its world, it wants a character.

[atrophiedemotion]

ivantill cafeteria scene analysis

keep in mind that this is fully just my personal opinion and interpretation of the scene okay cool

the cafeteria scene from round 6 has always been really interesting to me, and i've seen a lot of people take it different ways, so i just wanted to walk through my view of it because it's such a telling scene about their dynamic more recently than as kids

the scene starts with a shot of till during the round that looks to be from ivan's pov, showing us what he's seeing in the moment, and flashes back to one of ivan's memories from anakt.

considering the almost identical expressions till is wearing in both shots, it seems to be ivan thinking back to a time he saw till look the way he does in round 6- miserable, hopeless, defeated. like he's given up.

we then see ivan noticing till's apparent resignation and shitty mood (because of course he notices, it's his personal watching till time after all), then getting up to go bother him. i say 'bother him', and it definitely looks like that's what he's doing, but i don't think that's ivan's goal. i think ivan's goal is to comfort, or at least distract till.

despite their juvenile fights, we've never seen ivan actually want to cause till true harm. his lyrics in both black sorrow and cure are caring and reverent, making it apparent that ivan really does just love and care for him and just wants to be able to do things for till. this is furthered ofc by the whole post-club scene where ivan looks absolutely devastated seeing the state till is in.

i always reference back to my mirroring post bc it explains the way i imagine ivan's train of thought, and it applies here again. ivan does not know how to comfort till in a conventional way (probably for a few reasons; till is different from the other students, both in the way he acts and displays his emotions, and in ivan's opinion of him. till is special to ivan, he usually drops his mask around him so meaningless platitudes wouldn't be right) but he does know how to get till's attention on him and out of his own head.

all this being said- what ivan does next:

he swipes his hand across the cut on till's cheek. yeah, i know, definitely not what most people would consider 'comforting their friend' but that's what makes sense to ivan. 'how could i possibly distract him if he seems to ignore me most of the time?' (for now looking past the fact that till actually seems comfortable in ivan's quiet company, ivan's too single-focused to realize that)

and, well, i mean. he's right. till gets visibly disgruntled. he doesn't exactly look pissed as much as he looks caught the hell off guard, but it grabs his attention.

ivan, on the other hand, looks almost fond to me. i don't know, i just don't really think he looks smug even though i'm assuming that might be the general consensus. he almost seems a bit soft. to me, it looks like he's adoringly thinking, 'it worked. there, no time to be sad anymore, huh?' he probably is proud of himself for it, but not really in a selfish way.

till, of course, sees that it's ivan who's messing with him, and turns away.

i've also talked about this but at this age it really does seem like till's mindset when it comes to ivan is something along the lines of, 'oh, it's just ivan. he's fucking weird, that's just how he is' and more or less shrugs it off. he's used to ivan's "quirks" it seems.

this, till looking at ivan only to immediately look away, won't do. he only caught his attention for a few seconds, so i assume ivan's next logical move is to do something that will get an even bigger reaction. (ivan is a logical thinker, after all, at least in my perception of him)

so he. ya know. does that. which really seems like a great way to get himself punched, right? which honestly is also probably his plan. have till explode in anger, forget whatever happened for him to be injured in the first place, and ivan gets his undivided attention for a period of time. a win-win.

and you might be saying "oh, but couldn't ivan have just been doing that selfishly? we know his main goal is to get till to look at him." to which i say, yeah fair. i don't think this was done completely selflessly (i don't think anything ivan does is fully selfless but that's perhaps for another day) at all, he could've gone at it a different unconventional way if it was. but i think he probably sees it as mutually beneficial.

yes, it does seem like a way to show ivan wanting to keep till's eyes and attention on him. an example of how he seeks out till's attention no matter what, but the preceding shot of a hopeless till reminds ivan of this particular interaction for a reason.

there had to have been a motive behind what he did and why he did it then, and what we have to go off of for that is the first three shots. till wearing the same misery on two different occasions and ivan noticing. with that information, it's really not a stretch that this could be ivan's fucked up version of comfort.

[utilitycaster]

So I alluded to this in tags but did not want to put this on someone else's post and so: I have been catching heat for calling various members of Bells Hells selfish since the start, and to be clear, I will keep doing this, because I have precisely no respect for the intellect of anyone doing this, but I want to underscore that it's not just that I find many of the party's actions profoundly selfish/self-absorbed; it's been a growing pattern in the people who defend them.

It is selfish to fail to take into consideration the perspectives of others and to act out of your own pain in a way that hurts other people. I categorically reject the idea that being traumatized, abused, or experiencing negative things in any way excuses you from having to consider how your actions can harm others. In fact, failing to do this makes you a worse person; to say "the world hurt me and I'll visit this pain on other innocents" is ultimately, an indefensible position on moral grounds. That doesn't, to be clear, mean I dislike it in stories, which should have conflict and moral grayness. But I do not find these characters to be people I consider to be good, if this is with any consistency the frame of reference from which they act.

To say "the gods did not give me things and therefore they deserve killing" is profoundly selfish and vindictive. Having no love for them is one thing; actively wishing harm on them is, in fact, self-centered in the extreme. But that's actually not what I'm here to talk about in regards to Bells Hells' selfishness, both because I've found trying to explain that the gods are living beings and murdering all of them is, you know, bad, to some of the fandom has failed for the reasons I'll discuss later in this post. And, granted, this is a hypothetical, and we may look back in a month or so when the dust clears at a party that defeated Predathos and say "ha, good job guys," but should Bells Hells release Predathos deliberately? That is a betrayal of the Exandrian Accord. If you want to side with the man who destroyed Molaesmyr (and make no mistake, there is no way to do what he was going to do without siding with him; intent only matters if Predathos escapes despite Bells Hells giving it their all, not if they have slightly different motivations for fucking over their allies), that's a valid story, but to take the job and choose to fail to deliver? That is selfish. Someone else could have taken the job. The Doylist excuse that these are the characters the cast happened to be playing at the time does not, in fact, hold water; they could in fact have rejected the Moon Plot, or chosen to become the villains of this story. I would have, in fact, enjoyed that as a story! But this idea that they're not just assholes who think more about themselves and the shitty things various people mostly unaffiliated with the gods did to them during their childhoods than the vast destruction wrought by Ludinus across all of Exandria, is not one the narrative has ever supported.

What's really struck me, though, is a theme of selfish defenses in the fandom. I think bringing up personal anecdotes can be incredibly helpful! I found that some of the people who spoke about their experiences with PTSD in reference to Caleb, for example, provided incredible insight. Notably, the people I'm thinking about were not the ones whose conclusions were "so he's in the moral right to do anything to anyone ever because of PTSD" (and indeed they were usually people who celebrated Caleb as kind of an asshole). But those anecdotes do not override the experiences of other fans. Or, to dredge up some tiresome arguments, Beau is allowed to get pissed off at Caleb's behavior, even if his actions come from a place of trauma.

The two things that really stand out to me (outside of the bizarre ambient noise of white southern ex-Evangelicals acting like they're an oppressed class on that basis that has clung to the discourse like the slime it is) are the recent defense of Ashton on the basis of "punks/leftists are allowed to do this and I identify with Ashton so how could you be so mean to me, a leftist punk and therefore a good person and therefore I can do whatever and you have to like me," and the defense of the various Vanguard members (sans Ludinus) as being victims of a cult and therefore the trail of bodies they leave is fine because various fans have talked about having family in cults whom they forgave. I will speak bluntly here. I'm Jewish, and your argument of "you should be nicer to cult members because a lot of white southern people fall into cults, like one of my parents" is, to me, a combination of insulting, horrifying, and makes me hope your cultist parent gets hit by a car before they hurt more people. Should you wish to forgive your family? Fine, it's your business. To act as though it is a failure of strangers that they are not more generous towards a fictional character because you are sucking your own dick about how good you are at forgiveness? That is a level of entitlement that goes so far beyond the pale I struggle to imagine how you function in society.

I don't think Bells Hells are doomed to this epithet - they have a chance to do the the right thing - and I believe that those entitled fans can change. But yeah man, they - and you - have been really fucking selfish, and the digging in of your heels is doing nothing to convince me you're capable of even hearing the perspectives of others, let alone considering them.

[triasticalwarlock]

So, I'm ashamed to say I am officially having a sonic faze. I don't know how I got here. I came across a really cool piece of art of dark sonic. And there it was, that little fucking tingle, that little thing you get when ever you look at a fictional character you've liked for, well, a few years. And it comes running back, and you feel like a miserable son of a bitch... because you like THIS DUDE.

Where did I go wrong? I was perfectly fine with hazbin hotel, and the mother fucker called Adam. Also, due to this, I'm starting to realize a pattern. The characters I liked in the past: Leon from pokemon, sonic the hedgehog, bill cipher, Stanford pines, secret history tails, Adam the first man. Am I the only one seeing a pattern? I AM FOR SOME REASON ATTRACTED TO EGOTISTICAL LITTLE SHITS.

Why do I love this mobian? I honestly don't know, prideful man that is reckless and enjoys danger? Doesn't show much vurnability around people, but that one person(us)? I don't know, don't bother asking. But, it could be that it's a hero, with the ability to snap.

I'm talking about this version of the dude. I don't know why, but when ever I see this motherfucker, I feel something. It's like something is stirring my stomach, but in a good way. I don't know how to describe it, all I can say is that it makes me giddy and makes me kick my feet. It's like, cuteness aggression. And, honestly, I want him to baby me in this form. Imagine, the usual calm and looked up to hero, cupping your face and saying something in a baby tone (i think I've been reading to much Lucifer). Also, this has nothing to due with me wanting this man to ram me in. But to the people out there who still think that dark sonic would hurt his friends, get a service dog. Because you clearly blind. The reason sonic ever even turned dark mode was because his friends got hurt, what makes you think he'd intentionally harm them? I needed to say this, because the amount of art I run into that shows dark sonic about to hurt his friends, usually amy or tails, is pissing me off. Service dogs people, service dogs.

And, just a bunch of things of sonic, because I can.

Silly goose

[roguelov]

I've had a Thot. Consider if you will, Morpheus cannot be harmed or marked by mortals that we know. But can he allow people to cause him more enjoyable marks? And I have two branches of thots here:

Thot one, he specifically allows his s/o to mark him be it the more deliberately given hickeys and love bites or the more in the heat of the moment scratches on his back or other places (does he feel the sting under his shirt afterwards? I like to think so, it reminds him in the coming days till it heals 🤭)

Thot two, he doesn't verbally tell you you can, (he does allow it but doesn't tell you) rather challenges you saying if you really want your mark on him you should work for it and just letting you just maul him so he looks like he was attacked by a giant squid by the end of it.

Just some Thursday Thots I've had

-panini😘

This wonderful thot has now became a spicy Saturday thot 😂 and that taunting from him is making me feel things

You stared lovingly at Morpheus as you both sat side by side on the love couch in your shared bedroom. A fire crackled, casting a dim lighting. It was relaxing … it was stirring a feeling inside your chest.

“Yes, my love?” Morpheus glanced over at you from the corner of his eye.

“Nothing,” you hummed. “I’m just happy I’m yours.”

Morpheus smiled to himself. He turned his head, facing you. “Do not forget I am yours too.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” He asked in a tone you could not decipher. What was he playing at now?

“Then show me.”

You cocked your head. “What?”

“Make me yours, show me who I belong to.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden proposition. Morpheus pulled you into his lap, staring up at you with mischief and delight in his eyes. He slowly tilted his head to the side, giving you access to his unmarked neck.

“That is, if you dare to do so,” Morpheus purred in a challenging tone.

A switch flipped in your brain. If that was how he wanted to play, then so be it. You twisted Morpheus, forcing him to lay across the couch. You continued to straddle his hips, but now you stared down at him. Your fingers danced at the hem of his shirt and slowly inched upward.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his, “If I dare then I am leaving a piece of me everywhere. I will be engrained into your skin, my lord.”

You said his title with a teasing tone which made Morpheus’s heart skip. “Oh?” Morpheus smirked, playing off this fluttering in his chest.

You pushed his shirt up and up. Your fingers skimmed over his unblemished skin, sending sparks of electricity through the Endless. You gently kissed his jaw, then his neck, then you jumped down to his exposed stomach. Your kisses were delicate like touches from a butterfly. It was the sweetness before a monster came out.

You murmured against his skin, “I want a few of them to be between just you and me.”

Your hands then changed trajectory. You began to buckle his pants. Pulling away, you tugged down his pants off then amused your position between his legs. You peered up at him, with a twinkle in your eyes. You kissed his thigh slowly and deliberately.

“Does my king truly want this? Because I will not be responsible for what happens?” You smirked.

“Your king is only wondering why you are hesitating so much,” Morpheus matched your smirk. “Perhaps you do not have the power to do so.”

“I do believe my king is playing with fire.”

“Then burn me, my love.”

“With pleasure.”

[gfdazai]

IT'S LOVE, IT'S ROMANCE.

* Being in a relationship w/ them.

* CW / Established relations, GN reader (I thinkies,) not proofread / edited, I'm making this up as I gooo! Sorry if this is OOC, it's been a wwhile since I've genshided?... Genshinend?.... Yknow. this isnt good im ngl. SO RUSHED this is . unbelievable. It's all over the place but

Ningguang, who showers you with anything that you look at when going window shopping. She doesn't even think twice about the price — despite your refusals, and complaints — she gets you to accept it eventually.

Ningguang, who lets you do her hair as a sign of love. She's a busy lady, it's basically a proclamation of love when she spares enough time for you to sit down, comb her hair and braid it, if you're lucky enough.

Ningguang, who hunts out almost every Qingxin when you say one is pretty. Ningguang, who pays for a crate of cecilias when you say you wished they grew in Liyue.

Beidou,, who brings you back stuff from each of her voyages! ! You say you'd like some fabric from Inazuma? Done. You want wine from Mondstadt? Done, even quicker!

Beidou, who collects shells for you from each shore she comes across. All her treasures (shells), are taking up at least 3 drawers. You don't have the heart to stop her, as she seems so happy when she brings you another pouch everytime she's home...

Beidou, who schedules a whole day for cuddling before she leaves. She refuses to take you with her — scared of you getting hurt, or something — so she spends as much time with you as she can. She forces you to clear your schedule to stay in bed with her all morning, not caring if you had a meeting with whoever, wherever.

Lisa,, who constantly uses you as a guinea pig for her potions. You wanna spend time with her? Okay, just drink this!! Of course, she'd never let anything harm you, she only gives you the potions with the silly side effects.

She'd constantly tease you, calling you petnames that not even the flirtest would think of, just for the amusement of seeing you flustered. If you tease her back, though? It's like a compitition of who get's more flustered first. It's gotten so bad, to the point of the library emptying out because of it.

Lisa, who doesn't even spare you from her punishments as a librarian! Oh, you forgot to give her the book last night? No, no, that simply won't do! She can't be stopping her job for her pretty thing, no, not even for you. ...At least she apologizes afterwards.

Furina,, who 'makes' (gets someone else to make) sweets for you. She somehow knows exactly what you want, and exactly when you want it.

She'd also let you sit in on tea parties, right next to her. She'd make you a little hat like her own, like her own little claim on you, making you sit there and look like her pretty little thing.

Furina, who gets flustered the moment you imply going anything romantic. Holding hands? Not that bad, it'll get her a little flustered. Kissing? She feels like she's having a heart attack after the first kiss the two of you share.

She'd get Neuvillette to get you plushies, preferring to stay with you as he goes to find whatever animal she requested this time. She'd get jealous if you picked a plushie to have in your arms instead of her, whining and wiggling around in the bed until you replace the plushie with her.

Please don't steal my work, nor feed it to any sort of AI. Thank you! ♡

[siriuslygay1981]

Word count- 1066

TW- choking, talk of k!ling, Sorta NSFW , obsessed JEGULUS! Based off of this post

A/N this may have gone out of my hands....it went in a direction I didn't intend TBH... But I still like it very much! Thank you SM @tenakiie for letting me do a microfic for it! I've been trying to find inspo for a writing thing and this was perfect! The art is absolutely lovely :))

Read below the cut!

Regulus let's his hands travel up James's chest, marveling at the way James arches up into his touch. The small gasp that leaves his lips makes regulus groan. He lets out a shaky breath, his chest feels tight with overwhelming emotion.

They had been laying there for a while now, lips touching hands roaming. The two talked and talked and then just laid beside the other.

But as Regulus laid there, thinking of their relationship and how James made him feel, he was angry he was overfilling with love and he couldn't get the thought that he wanted to hurt James. Just a little. Just a small bit of pain. How else could he get this pressure off of his chest but to pinch his arm, bite his shoulder? Maybe...wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze...just for a moment.

Which unsurprisingly is what Regulus ends up doing. He straddles James and loosely wraps his hands around his neck. He frowns down at James who just smiles up at him, eyes trusting and so so soft. It makes the itch harder to resist, he clenches his teeth.

"I want to kill you." He says it softly, says it without even realizing. It's too late to take back now, it's in the air and he's sure James heard it. They're too close to not have.

James rests his hands on Regulus' thighs, squeezes softly before replying

"I'm yours." He says softly "I'm all yours."

His eyes are soft, crinkled at the side, his smile dopey and warm. One hand slides up to his hip and he rubs his thumb comfortingly. Regulus tightens his hands slightly in response and leans down so they're face to face, mere inches apart, but James doesn't even flinch, just traces his eyes across Regulus' face.

"You could...if you wanted to." James whispers, his voice slightly hoarse because of the pale hands still putting pressure on his throat

Regulus tilts his head, he keeps eye contact with James and scoots forward before knocking their foreheads together

"Your friends would kill me if I did..." He says as if he would actually go through with it.

"No." James says his eyes suddenly dark

"I wouldn't let them."

Regulus almost laughs, he tightens his grip again, his thumbs pushing slightly against his Adams apple

"You wouldn't be there to stop them though..." He whispers

Biting his lip he watches James's face twitch, he's angry. Regulus licks his lips and sighs. He can feel James swallow beneath his fingertips, he watches closely as James struggles to speak for a moment.

"You won't be harmed....even if I have to come back from the fucking dead."

Regulus gasps and loosens his hold. Looking down at James, James watches him closely, he rubs a soothing hand up Regulus' back

"No one will touch you.." He says, his voice is thick and scratchy.

Regulus leans closer and tilts his head to the right, his eyes half lidded. Their noses touch, he can feel James's hot breath against his mouth.

"What about you?" He asks huskily

James grips regulus tightly for a moment, conflict briefly flashing in his eyes

"Not even me, not if you don't want me to." He says firmly

Regulus brushes his thumb against James's throat again

"And if I told you right now not to touch me?" He asks, curious to his answer

James let's his hands fall to the side, his breathing heavy and a frown on his face

"Then I won't."

Regulus swallows hard, his eyelashes fluttering

"if I said you never could again?" His voice is low and raspy

James heaves in breath after breath below him, trying to regain some air he must've lost

"If that's what you want love....that's what you'll have."

Regulus watches James' Adams apple bob up and down for a moment he rests his thumb there and almost grins when James stops breathing, stops moving all together.

"I'm going to kiss you now.." Regulus murmurs against James's lips.

He watches the way James's eyes dilate, he groans in the back of his throat.

"God please do-" he whimpers

Regulus leans down and kisses James, his unoccupied hand going to his messy hair and tugging lightly. James gasps and arches up a bit. Regulus grins against his lips and bites James's bottom lip before pulling back slightly.

He lets go and squeezes his hand around James's neck when he sees his bottom lip plump. James makes a small choking sound which makes Regulus immediately loosen his grip, afraid he might've hurt him

James shakes his head lightly, his hand jumping to Regulus' wrist, he pauses before their skin can touch, let's his hand hover for a moment before dropping it

"No...it's ok." He murmurs, his dark eyes staring up at regulus

Regulus tilts his head back and groans, he squeezes his thighs against James's side and let's his head fall back down

"You can touch me James" he whispers, his eyes still closed

James grips the back of Regulus' neck and pulls him down so they're chest to chest again

"I wouldn't be able to live without you. If you told me to never touch you, I wouldn't lay a finger on you baby. Just as long as I can see you, be near you...fuck just hearing your voice would be fine-"

He sucks a breath in, one hand gripping Regulus' hip

"I might not survive it...but if that's what you want...I'd cut my hands off to keep that promise."

Their lips brush against one another, regulus let's out a sigh before kissing James with all the overwhelming, all consuming feelings inside of him. James responds in kind, his hands gripping regulus and pulling him closer, closer,closer as if to weld them together. To have their body stuck together irreversibly.

Neither would mind, some days Regulus is sure he'd let James consume him entirely, pretending as if he hadn't already. They were both willing to do whatever the other wanted, willing to follow one another to the ends of the universe. Destined to intertwine and connect, to never be separated. It would be unkind, would be cruel to rip regulus away from James, to take away the very air he breathes. He would not survive it, Regulus would not live in a world where James wasn't his and vice versa.

[itsallpoliticsstupid]

The person who wrote this original post is definitely not a 'high T alpha male,' and I'm about 99% certain they would probably cry in the presence of a physically strong woman.

The hilarious thing about this post is the fact the original author has so little knowledge of Politics he doesn't know that this isn't a democracy. It's called an Aristocracy and comes from the Greek words 'aristos' meaning best and 'kratos' meaning power.

Anyway, I digress.

I still find it wild that there are still those out there who believe a persons status is what makes them fit to Govern. It doesn't. Especially when this entire 4chan post about T Alpha males parse new information with the objective 'is this true' is seen to be absolutely untrue in the current world of Politics today.

I've often found those on both the far left and right are difficult to discuss Politics with because they have such a rigid belief system and won't be swayed from it. So often they will look at new information, whether this is from a technical source, or somebody with years of experience in an industry, and they will go 'no, I believe this...and that's it.'

You just have to look at the reaction to climate change studies. Even when we are seeing horrific flash flooding in Spain, and wildfires in California decimating land, people will still say that climate change isn't real. Or it isn't man made.

Or those who believe that vaccines are inherently evil, even when they are presented with evidence that they can do more good than harm.

Similarly, those on the left who refused to accept very real cases of people dying of the Covid vaccine because they didn't want to believe that a vaccine could ever be fatal in the right circumstances.

If you have these strong beliefs, you will never have the ability to parse new information. Because you don't want to. It's only those who study politics, who really want to understand the state of the world, who is able to parse this information and make a judgement. Traditionally, those who will be in the center and have spent years working across Government.

And nobody who supports Trump is a good candidate of a high status male who is best for decision making. Certainly not Elon Musk anyway.

[ilydeku]

sweet, just like you | senku x reader

Winds of the fall guided themselves through the open window as you leaned against its frame, gazing off into the star-speckled night. That telescope that proudly stood next to you. It was a representation of everyone's effort, everyone's appreciation, everyone's faith. All because of Senku Ishigami. You smiled at the thought as you took a glance at its structure. What a truly remarkable man, indeed.

"Hey, you're gonna be totally useless to me tomorrow if you don't go to sleep. I need you to crush some minerals for me tomorrow."

Speak of the devil.

You paid no mind to him, the soft creaking of wood growing closer signaled his upcoming. Senku rested against the stair railing after reaching the high floor, watching you in silence. He figured maybe you wanted to get some fresh air, but something felt off after a few minutes, which seemed almost like hours. Were you mad at him? He didn't remember doing or saying anything that could harm you. Were you homesick? Nah. You weren't the type to get all sentimental. Senku knows you how you are, now more than ever since he first revived you, but there were probably things still unknown to him. The only way he was going to get answers was to ask directly from the source.

"...so what's up with you? It's not like you to stay up this late. You love to sleep and you sleep like a damn rock, at that."

"Pfft," A light chuckle escaped from your throat. "Why do you care, Senku? It's not like you to ask about someone's feelings. You got a crush on me or something?" You teased, slightly turning your head to get a good look at his humored expression.

"Psh. On you? Not even one millimeter." he retorted, to which you laughed at, walking across the room and gazing out the window alongside you. He let out a breathy sigh before asking you again, in a more genuine way. "Really now, y/n, what's wrong?"

The stars in the sky illuminated the sea of night, but right now, they were glowing brighter than ever.

"Hahh, Senku. There's nothing wrong at all."

"Then why aren't you sleeping?"

"If I told you, you'd probably cringe."

"..." He turned to you, curious as to what you had to offer. "Oh, really now?" A warm feeling rushed through your body as you felt your arms touch. Senku joined you in your midnight gaze, allowing himself to be closer to you. "Tell me, what's on your mind?"

"...It's just that..." You took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. "Looking at all this, all these things we've built, sciency things you've come up with...I realized that I've taken a lot of things for granted in life..." Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind remained on the times you've been negative about in the past, guilt coercing through your form. "I never really stopped to appreciate the things around me; the world we live in, the birds in the sky, the people around me, in fact, I don't even remember the last I told my parents I love them..." You dragged your wrist across your eyelids, attempting to rid of any formation of tears. Senku didn't know what to do at the moment. He didn't know whether to give you space to cry or to come a little closer, as he never comforted anyone before, let alone be this close to one. He thought about hugging you, but he felt that that'd be weird, considering that that's just something he doesn't do. So, he did the next best thing.

"..." His hand hovered above yours. He hesitated, just before resting his hand on top of yours. His fingers delicately indented themselves in between your knuckle, rubbing soft infrequent movements with them. He had his head turned away so you wouldn't see the glow on his face. His attempt at intimate comfort made you grin. You looked down at your hands together and back outside over the village.

"...There's just so many things I turned my head from, so many things I miss. I never took the time to just slow down and open my eyes to anything..."

"..."

"...I miss sitting in a classroom, listening to lectures, and taking notes, even if they were boring. I wish I had paid more attention in class." Senku let out a light chuckle, squeezing your knuckle slightly.

"You say that as if you weren't passing all your classes."

"Okay, and? Maybe I could've gotten straight A pluses instead of just As."

"Pfft. You're really something."

"..."

"..."

"You know what I do miss though, Senku?..Chocolate. That's something I've really taken for granted. That long process of collecting cacao beans and crushing them and whatever else they do to it to turn it into chocolate. My mom always bought boxes of chocolates for me to snack on while I studied. It'd sit right at the corner of my desk. And every time she noticed the box running out, I'd immediately find it replaced with a new one...haha..." You dragged your wrist across your eye once more. "...I guess she thought chocolates were the source of my intelligence or something. Man, and those chocolates were the good kind too, the ones with different fillings and stuff...I'd love to have a taste of them again...-"

"You know, I wasn't gonna say anything at first because you seemed really passionate in what you were saying and I uh..well, appreciate that you're open to me..." You turned your gaze to him and smiled. You've never seen Senku being genuine before. "...but now here you are being emotional over a box of chocolates, y/n. That's kinda cringe," Senku joked, laughing to himself. Your smile quickly faded...into a smirk.

"I knew you'd say that regardless, but look at you, Romeo," you retorted, referring to his hand. "Seems like you do have feelings for me, Senku. Look how close we are-" He quickly took his hand away and covered his face with his arm, hiding the light redness in his cheeks and taking a few steps back.

"Oh, shut up, y/n." You chuckled softly, standing up straight and stretching your arms above your head. "You should really go to sleep, now that you've got that all out." You kneeled down on the wood floor and readied your clothed blankets.

"Yeah don't worry, I am. Goodnight, Senku."

"Night." He made is way over the the steep of stairs, but before he began making his way down, you stopped him."

"Hey, Senku? Thanks for listening to me. It's not often I get to speak my mind to someone."

"Don't get it twisted. I only listened because you said I'd probably cringe, but...you're welcome. Now, go to sleep." He replied as he continued down the stairs. As you wrapped yourself in your blanket, a smile made its way across your lips as your eyes closed, the memory of Senku laying his hand across yours replaying through your eyelids. Senku fell asleep with a sound thought in mind. Chocolates, huh? Pfft. Alright then.

.

A few days went by, Senku being right at your side. Staying up with you for a bit had started to become a regular event unestablished between the both of you, chatting about anything and everything. You wondered why he suddenly became so easy to talk to. It's like you've known him for years, well you have, but through those years, you were never really this close and never struck up deep conversations. It was nice. You treasured every second of them, and so did Senku.

The more conversations you had with him, the more and more he learned from you. Every day was another thing he'd find out about you, which would lead him to more things he wanted to know. For the first time in his life, it wasn't science that was embedded in the driver's seat.

One night you arrived at Senku's place early. All the tasks he especially assigned to you were finished, all thanks to your gorilla-like strength as he calls it, which you always shoot back at by targetting his weak little science nerd arms. You figured today that maybe, finally, you'd get to sleep early, but you were caught completely off guard by the small handwoven basket that sat right on the windowsill you first talked over with him that one night. It was draped in leather to cover its contents held inside. On the leather read the words "To Y/n, the original gorilla". You laughed to yourself and paused. You could feel his presence in the room, so you took it upon yourself to speak.

With your eyes half-lidded, you teased, "Senku, giving me gifts isn't going to win me over, but if you wanna date, you know you could just ask me."

"..." No words were needed. You already knew what his reaction was, you didn't even need to see his face. But you turned around anyways and there he was, cross-armed, leaning against the stair frame with his eyes closed in annoyance. You let out a puff of air from your nose and smiled.

"Alright, alright, my bad. But really, what's this? What's the occa-"

"Just open it already."

"Oh? Well if you insist then-" As you swiftly revealed the contents of the basket, your eyes widened in disbelief. "Is this..." Your fingers traversed over the little mounds of brown that were neatly stacked from the bottom up. A smirk plastered itself onto Senkus face as he witnessed your awestruck expression. You looked like you were about to cry from joy and sadness at the same time.

"Heh, it sure is, y/n." You quickly picked up a piece with your fingers and took half a bite of it. The flavors that enveloped your tongue didn't taste exactly like chocolate, but relatively close. What you could taste, though, was the effort and time put into its making and, most importantly, the love.

"...so? How is it?"

"...it's sweet...just like y-" You hesitated, turning away and looking out towards the sky. Your eyes drifted to rest on the warm autumnal colors radiating from the high. "They're good, Senku. Thank you."

"..." He crossed his arms and stared at you a bit. A small frown drooped from his lips. That's it? He felt like he was expecting something way more than verbal gratitude. "Yeah? Well if it stops you from crying over the past, then-" You suddenly pushed yourself onto him and engulfed him in a tight hug. Senku tensed and stood still,

"Really Senku, thank you. You really are a remarkable person. Call it cringe or whatever, but it's not going to cut out the silver lining I see in you." The arms that hung loosely by his sides began to wrap around your form, and his head rested again the top of yours.

"...it's nothing, really..." He replied. He doesn't rub your back or murmur any soothing words. He's definitely not a man of soothing words, it wasn't his thing. And anyway, it didn't look like you'd need to listen to them. You seemed content already just being there in his arms. "Hey, y/n..? Don't say anything about this to anybody. I don't wanna have anyone on my case wh-"

"About what, huh?" You teased, looking up at him from the hug. "That you held me close in your loving arms, whispering sweet nothings and-" Your shoulders were met with his grip, followed by a force that pushed you apart. He rolled his eyes, but there was still a stupid smile plastered on his face.

support me? :)

[elumish]

dude...no need to be an asshole to that last anon, wtf? I can absolutely see how they read your post like that. just because you run a writing blog doesn't make up incapable of being unclear.

your shitty response was way out of line and uncalled for. maybe try chilling the fuck out and not attacking people because they read your post differently than you intended, jfc. shit like this makes me feel like I can never engage with your posts because you might fly off the handle and act like an asshole to me for not reading your post exactly they way you intended. which is pretty fucking shitty behavior on your part.

that anon made really good points, and I think they were a valid response to what you said. not their problem (or any reader's) that you don't like that that's how some of us read you post. good posts provoke conversations and discussions about nuanced topics - instead you decided to shut that down and be an asshole. grow up, and maybe take your own advice and chill the fuck out. nobody called you a racist or some shit, but you're acting like you got attacked when the only person attacking anyone here is you.

Here are my choices when people send me asks that misunderstand or misrepresent posts that I made:

I ignore them. I do this sometimes. I can and will keep doing it.

I entertain their argument and get sucked into a conversation I have no interest in having.

I tell them that they misrepresented my post and that I'm not going to engage with it.

In this case, I picked option three. Was I a bit harsh? Yeah, maybe. I'm sorry if my tone came across as more aggressive than I intended.

But I am sick of the standard reaction to me talking about things like being cognizant of what we write and trying to avoid doing harm being people telling me that it's censorship or that it's somehow infringing on their ability to write what they want, or that I'm implying that they can't ever bring up a bad or hurtful topic at all.

Because that is probably the most common type of ask that I get whenever I make posts like this. This are not even the only conflating glorifying with talking about at all and then arguing with me based on that misunderstanding reaction I have gotten in the last 48 hours.

But, and I mean this genuinely, I would like to know what I am saying that is implying that. I have read through the posts I made and tried to see where that implication might be coming across, and I can't find it. And so please, I would truly appreciate you or anyone else telling me what in my phrasing or word choice is leading to that conclusion.

Because I want to avoid saying that. That's not the argument I'm trying to make and it's never the argument I've been trying to make. And so if I am accidentally implying that somehow in what I'm saying, I want to know that and change it.

But it's not my job to engage every time someone starts arguing with a point I didn't even make.