#if anyone's confused this is about a post I reblogged recently

[sunsetsmakemesad]

Okay so. Oz is Gilbert's favourite person Alice is Oz's favourite person Gilbert is Vincent's favourite person Jack is Alyss' favourite person Lacie is Jack's favourite person Elliot is Leo's favourite person Vincent is Noise's favourite person yeah I think that's all I have for now

[epic-and-kitty]

We all talk about the weird fact we're constantly followed by naughty bots, but let me tell you, the time I got followed by a pro anorexia blog threw me off for at least a week

[megoosa]

•

[autolenaphilia]

Edit: as hoshi9zoe pointed out, the original version of this post needlessly berated other transfems like Jennifer Coates, for which I do apologize, and I have toned it down in this edited version. The original version survives in reblogs.

Some months ago, I was searching through this transandrobro blog to see if they posted a callout of me, and i found this reblog, which I couldn't really write about for months, because what do I even write. I recently wayback machined it for posterity, and I guess this is my attempt to write a post about it.

It's saint-dyke himself, the coiner of transandrophobia, saying that the infamous (at least for me) article "I am a transwoman. I'm in the closet. I'm not coming out" is what made him coin the fucking word. It's literally bolded and underlined: "Reading this article is what made me coin “transandrophobia”.

The reason I put off writing this post is that reading that article makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. And it is poison, make no mistake, it's internalized transmisogyny brainworms dripping out of the writer's brain and onto the page.

It's a justification for why the author, known by pseudonym Jennifer Coates, doesn't want to transition, despite knowing she is a trans woman. And it's the exact kind of internalized transmisogyny that keeps trans women in repression and not transitioning. "I'm not going to pass, i'm forever going to be an ugly freak who will at best be humored by other women, the closet is uncomfortable but at least it's safe"

It's the same exact bullshit a lot of represssed trans women tell themselves because it's what society tells us about trans women, that we are freakish parodies of women, that we will never pass, and if we don't pass we have failed and are ugly freaks. It's all to scare us into staying in the closet and make others hate and fear us. Transmisogyny permeates our society, and the majority, maybe all transfems will absorb and internalize some of it.

Coates says that it all is just applicable to her, but again so many transfems believe this shit before transitioning and realizing it's a pack of lies. If this bullshit was in any way valid, a lot of trans women shouldn't transition, because before we actually transition many of us believe it word for word. And "it's only true for me" is how we justify it to ourselves. We tend to be way harsher on ourselves than others. This kind of self-hating transfem tends to think: "Other trans women are beautiful graceful goddesses, earthly manifestations of the divine feminine, always destined to be women, while I'm an ugly forever male ogre who just has a fetish."

It's all bullshit, it's poison, it's internalized transmisogyny.

And the rest of the article is bullshit too. It is not some insightful mediation on gender as some people say, it's the author confusing and mixing up actual transmisogyny with an imagined problem of misandry. She does this because she has gone full repression mode, and decided she has no other choice to live as a man, so her dysphoria and experiences of transmisogyny are actually men's problems.

It's a bad article, excusable because as Coatas points out, it's "essentially a diary entry." that was meant to be a way to "vent frustration" and she "did not intend for anyone else to actually read it." It is clearly not the product of a healthy mind.

I hope the author sometime in the past seven years eventually did transition, and that for whatever reason she didn't want to publicly repudiate her own article. Maybe she lost access to the medium account so she can't delete it.

Far worse than the article itself is the response to it. I've seen it passed around as some insightful commentary on gender by the "feminists are too mean to men, misandry is real" crowd. I have argued against this before. And other people have made insightful comments about it.

And learning that saint-dyke claiming that he was inspired to coin the word "transandrophobia" because of this article is the cherry on top of this shitcake of transmisogyny. For my thoughts on "transandrophobia" theory and how transmisogynistic it is, see here.

Of course, Saint-dyke absolutely could be bullshitting here. Claiming that Coates's article is what inspired him to coin the word might be a lie to claim that transandrophobia theory is not transmisogynistic because it came from listening to trans women.

This is why "listen to trans women" doesn't work. Because TME people will always choose a trans woman who confirms their prejudices. Blair White has made an entire career out of this. And Coates article is popular because it says that misandry is real and trans women's issues are partly caused by it, misgendering herself and other trans women.

And it's popular for another reason. Coates has thoroughly internalized transmisogyny, and thus her article presents a trans woman that is exactly as transmisogynistic patriarchal society wants her to be. She is suffering, but ultimately accepts her assigned role. She truly believes that her biological sex dooms her to forever be male. She literally "manages her dysphoria by means other than transition" as conversion therapy advocates want us to do. She never makes an social claim on womanhood by actually transitioning, so she doesn't invade the sacred women's spaces. Yet she performs the role of woman perfectly by serving men, by defending them from supposed feminist misandry. And she fulfils the ritualistic role that the rhetorical figure of "trans women" sometimes serves in progressive spaces, of giving a blessing to TME people's pre-existing views and actions, all while actual flesh-and-blood trans women are destroyed by those same deeply transmisogynistic spaces. This time it's a blessing for the same "misandry is real" soft-MRA bullshit that has infested the online left and created the transandrophobia crowd.

That is why this article and the positive response makes me sick, makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. This is what its fans want trans women to be like. I'm acutely aware this kind of self-denial is exactly what transmisogyny wants from me and tried to indoctrinate me into doing it. And I want none of it. I want to live, I want to be a woman.

[jinogasux-fr]

Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Leads Sister-in-Law! 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Chapter 8

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader 

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: panic attack, vomit, self-harm (biting thumb hard enough until it bleeds), slight blood, mention/allusions to murder, very slight suicide  ideation, one (1) suggestive line, implied child abuse, Maria being lowkey creepy (again), uncertainty about loving future kids, please tell me if I missed any.

NOTE: while I am happy that people enjoy this story, please stop blowing up my inbox about when the next chapter(s) will come out. Or telling me I should hurry up.  Thank you.

NOTE #2: there isn't going to be any romance involving Roxana or any of the other characters and the reader.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/ BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACTION WITH NOR REBLOG FANDOM STUFF DNI (MAYBE ANIMAL BLOGS ARE OKAY BECAUSE THEY’RE CUTE). PLEASE DO NO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS.

= = = 

Roxana’s heels clack against the tiled hallway as she glides through, making way to her room. Blond waves gently bouncing with each step, the girl can’t hold back the scowl that tears at her lips. Brows furrowed, her thoughts were full of the recent events - the dinner. 

She didn’t mean to intrude. As a matter of fact, while curious, she had no intention of doing more than taking a quick glance - to see if what Jeremy said was true, that Dion Agriche was indeed having dinner with his poor, pitiful bride. 

Jeremy got there before her.

Hiding within the shadows, the boy was glaring daggers into the second eldest son. So engrossed with the scene presented to him, Jeremy didn’t notice Roxana as she got closer and closer. No, the brash boy had announced himself before she could even pat his shoulder. Like a wild boar, he interrupted your dinner, uncaring for how it made him look. Not that he ever did.

And perhaps out of pity on your behalf, or sick curiosity to see how everything pans out, she showed herself as well. 

An hour prior to the incident Roxana and Jeremy talked about you, the newest family member. She wasn’t the one who brought you up, but rather Jeremy. Her younger half-brother had asked her what she thought about the situation. It was the first time he asked. 

‘Well… It is strange. I thought that father would have waited longer before finding Dion a wife, much less holding the wedding.’

‘Yeah,’ Jeremy agrees, a borderline sneer on his face, ‘but it’s stupid. She won’t last long.’ 

‘Shorter than a month?’

‘No, longer. But I’m not sure how much longer. Still, to be married to that bastard… She's fucked. Pretty sure she’s begging God to kill her already, or to keep him away and indifferent.’ 

The blond beauty stared at her brother in question. ‘This isn’t like you, Jeremy. Did you meet her before or is it because Dion is the one involved?’ 

He doesn’t answer immediately, grumbling out words she didn’t catch. ‘Watch, she’s going to puke in disgust soon.’ Blue eyes narrowing in annoyance, Roxana only becomes more confused. What’s with this sudden interest with a sacrificial bride? 

‘Jeremy,’ she says, gingerly patting his head, ‘This is the first time you’ve shown interest in anyone. Why is that?’ Asking him directly, she hopes that she’ll easily draw answers from him. But, for once, he doesn’t budge. It’s concerning. 

‘Xana, I heard they’re going to have dinner together later today. Do you think that guy will show up?’ Ignoring her question, he asks his own. A frown tugs at her coral lips. But seeing how aggravated he is, she decides to humor him. Just this once. 

‘I’m not sure. If it was on father’s orders, then yes, of course. His word is law.’ 

‘What makes you so sure he’ll listen to all?’

She blinks at him, taken aback. It wasn’t often she gets rendered speechless, especially by her own younger brother. But his response also amuses her - hearing his resentment towards the twenty-year-old was always amusing.. 

‘Xana, he’s crazy. It’s only going to get worse.’

Before Roxana could respond, she got called away to Lant’s office, the butler bowing nervously after he brought the news. 

Returning to the present, the blond lets out a deep sigh, a headache forming the longer she thinks about it. This wasn’t how the story went. There wasn’t a grand wedding for any of the Agriche family members - the closest thing was when Jeremy kidnapped Sylvia, and even then, that couldn’t be considered romantic.  

Nothing in the story was romantic. 

…not like her brother’s marriage to you was either. 

Nothing made sense and it’s bothersome. Concerning even, for the moment you entered this play, she became unsure of when or if Cassis will show up - what if nothing follows the storyline at all, no matter how small? She knows he exists, she saw him at the wedding. Shining silver hair that reminds her of the moon and golden eyes that were filled to the brim with caution towards her family and the wedding, the male lead of this story exists. 

But you didn’t. 

Maybe in the original work, you did, as a nameless background character. Faith unknown and unimportant, you somehow stumbled across the stage, entangled in strings that now control your every move. It worries her - you worry her. Roxana can’t tell if you’re friend or foe, if you’ll survive and stay sane, if you’ll die soon, if she should consider taking you under her wing, seeing how you were nothing more than a victim. 

But she doesn’t have that luxury. Ensuring her own survival was hard enough - how could she take care of a second person? Why should she bother herself with you? 

You don’t serve any other purpose than being arm candy, a woman seen as nothing more than an incubator by your father-in-law. She doubts Dion cares for you; during the planning period he didn’t act out of character. He acted the same around her, still the annoying son of a bitch he’s always been. 

…but, a few days before the wedding he kept his distance. Unconcerned with her presence, he made a few last minute purchases. Away from the prying eyes of Lant, Dion also added a secret guest - the doctor known as Ash Katopodis. 

She heard a rumor that he also sent the redhead to you instead of the doctor Lant had appointed. The fifteen-year-old had found it strange once word reached her ears, brushing it to the side after concluding it was gossip for gossip sake. While it was bold of the servants to say such things, Roxana saw no point in punishing them for their senseless rumors - it had nothing to do with her. If they wanted to play with their lives with risky talk, then that was on them.

Upon reaching her room, she stops short of opening the door, manicured nails tapping against the door handle. She didn’t mean to intrude on your alone time with the brute. Yet she did and the sight of Dion in such a domestic setting made her sick. 

Disgust threatening to tip over the scale, it’s hard for her not to sneer at the mere memory of it. Domesticity does not suit Dion. He does not deserve it. Playing house with an unwilling girl, dressed in pure white as the veil hid her anxiety and fright laid within her eyes and painted on her lips. Scared and left hopeless as her family watched as she kissed the monster, powerless.

The holy church in which the wedding was held became corrupted when the second Lant Agriche picked it out, Maria fussing over the details. Who sits where, ‘gently’ probing your mother into agreeing with the dress the third wife had picked, your makeup and hairstyle, the fucking lingerie until Sierra pointed out how weird it was for the mother-in-law to pick out such an erotic and intimate thing for the girl who was to be her daughter-in-law. 

During the ceremony, Jeremy had kept mumbling to himself, clearly done with the whole ordeal. Obviously, Roxana was as well, but kept a pretty smile on, greeting you after the vows were said and said her goodbyes as you were dragged away to the bridal chamber. Only to find the morning after by Hana that you didn’t go there, instead led into the lion’s den that is Dion’s room.

How… odd. 

No… what was odder was that you didn’t have separate rooms. Emily had told her as such out of the blue, preparing her breakfast. She questioned it then, and it’s only weirder, more worrisome the longer she thinks about it.

She shakes the memories away. It wasn’t her life. She had enough trouble on her plate already - she couldn’t possibly add you to the list of her neverending responsibilities she’s forced to juggle. She could pity you, but never love you. Touch you but never hold you. Talk to you but never make a genuine connection as sisters should. 

She should stop with this foolish nonsense. 

Turning the handle, she glides right in, letting the door shut behind her. Emily had retired for the night, and the blond also ordered Hana to do the same. After all, Lant had given Dion another mission, and the favorite son had to prepare to leave in the morning, too busy to bother you. 

… why am I so focused on her…?

The moonlight lights up her room through the glass doors that lead to the terrace. With a huff, she sits in her vanity, and starts to remove her makeup with removal cream. It’s greasy as her dainty fingers spread it across her face, each action copied by the mirror. It’s quiet.

Her thoughts refuse to shut up, however. 

‘What’s going on with Lant…? Choosing a daughter-in-law from a nearly unheard of family? Do they have something he wants and only used this marriage  as a means to get closer? Most likely, but why?’

A frown tugs at her lips, face completely bare after she pats it down with a face towel. Ruby eyes stare into the reflection before her, and Roxana only sees frustration and confusion. She can’t rely on her memories of the story anymore. 

She won’t be sure until the faithful day when her father kidnaps Cassis Pedelian, the Blue Heir. And even then, how could she be sure that it would be the same Cassis Pedelain that was mentioned in the novel? The same goes for his sister, Sylvia. 

“...things are getting complicated.” Standing, her feet take her to the bed and she lays on it, back pressed against the mattress. The crystal chandelier sparkles in the moonlight. Ruby optics disappear behind her eyelids, blond lashes casting shadows on skin. The night is still young. 

A small smile of amusement forms on her lips when she remembers your earlier conversation. You had called her an interesting person - far from what others say. They called her lovely, a Goddess of beauty - and you? 

You called her interesting.

Still, you couldn’t hide the admiration for her in your eyes. You weren’t a stumbling fool and understood what her look meant when Jeremy went too far. But the most fascinating thing?

You listened to mental caution and drew a line, uncomfortable with her, with them, the gears turning in your head on what to do next. You even separated yourself from her without hesitation once the moment presented itself.

Regardless, you admired her in spite of your clear discomfort. 

“...I must be tired.” 

You called her an interesting person. In return, she’ll call you a fool. 

- - -

His side of the bed was cold, patting it as your bleary eyes and murky mind clear up. Still dressed in the half undone dress and corset, you ignore how uncomfortable it is. No, right now, what you are focused on is the way your beating heart is thrashing against your rib cage, how cold your body has become, beads of sweat building and rolling down your temples, on the verge of gasping for air. Did you just fuck yourself over? 

You don’t know what time it was - sun high in the bright, blue sky, birds singing their lovely tunes. The occasional footsteps passing by, the far off voices as the servants go about their business. None of them knock on the door. None come to ‘wake’ you up.

Or, if they had, it must have been a good while ago. Were you so deep asleep that they gave up?

“...He’s going to kill me, isn’t he… hah…” a humorless laugh passes through your chest, shoulders slumping as nothing but regret fills your head and chest. Are you going to be killed today? Or maybe tortured? Thrown out like disgusting leftovers? 

You don’t want to die. Ah, but what could you possibly do? Get on your hands and knees like a dog and beg for forgiveness? …no. You’re already pathetic enough, you don’t want to lower yourself even more. Fuck. 

“...Ah, fuck, what should I do?” Putting your thumb sideways in your mouth, your teeth clamp down on the poor digit. The taste of iron explodes in your mouth, teeth marks left behind on the now wounded and bleeding flesh. 

A throbbing headache decides to join, adding physical pain to the list of your suffering. You bite down on your thumb harder. It feels like it might just snap in two but your mind is too fried to realize this. The only thing you can think about is last night. 

Your husband was gone. Where did he go? Maybe he decided to leave you, seeing you as a broken toy he doesn’t want anymore. Does that mean he’ll give the least back to Lant? Is that why he isn’t here? To discuss how to dispose of you? 

The thought makes your stomach churn, saliva glands overfilling as bile starts to raise. You were given to them as a pet - as some twisted sacrifice, and for what? Did this family want nothing else but a new ‘toy,’ to see how long a normal person would last within these walls? What then?

If they decide to kill you, or if you kill yourself out of desperation, what would they tell your parents? No, they wouldn’t tell them anything to begin with. 

And your family wouldn’t be able to ask.

“Urk…�� dry heaving, slapping your hand over your mouth, panicked tears forming. Your entire body shakes, blood staining the bed as your injured hand grasps at the sheets. “URK!” Without a thought you rush out of bed, slamming yourself down on your knees as you reach the trash can. All of your stomach continents come up, the foul taste of vomit coming forth. 

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you heave over the trash, blurring your vision. You’re breathing too heavily. You look at the door a few feet away from you. If anyone was right outside it, they would have heard you. 

“...” you wait for a knock or for someone to burst through the doors with bated breath, your eyes shaking in their sockets, knees throbbing after the harsh impact. No-one comes. It is only you - alone in this room, a sinner who is paying the price. Must you go through this for a sin you’ve forgotten until now? 

The answer is yes. 

The answer is yes as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The answer is yes as you force yourself to stand, knees painfully throbbing as the flesh bruises. The answer is yes as your thumb still bleeds, teeth marks engraved into the skin. The answer is yes as your heart refuses to calm down, chest hurting. 

The answer is yes as you walk over to the vanity, the reflection of a face that doesn’t look like your own. 

You are a mess. 

The tears don’t stop flowing as the urge to vomit returns. Crystalline droplets catch on your lashes, ugly sobs and hiccups breaking out, your shoulders shaking as you collapse onto the leather stool seat. A sinner always pays the price. 

You bury your face into your hands, entire body jerking with each sob, each hiccup as anxiety for the future and present overtakes everything. This isn’t like you. But you were never strong enough to survive in an environment like this. You were pathetic. 

Seconds turn into minutes and maybe even into hours. Time is a concept that you don’t bother yourself with by the time you finally calm down, red puffy eyes staring into the mirror as the tear streaks dry on your cheeks. Some snot peeks out from your nostril, hair a mess, clothes crumbled and sliding down, showing more of your cleavage. Such an unsightly sight. 

Grabbing a face towel on the vanity desk, you wipe off the tears and snot.

“...Okay. Let’s… get cleaned up.” Your limbs feel heavy, dragging your feet towards the closet before finally, finally striping out of your clothes from yesterday. The articles of clothing pools at your feet. 

How much longer can I last here? 

Will there ever be a peaceful divorce? Can I divorce him? Would I be able to?

If the story events do take place and Roxana takes over the Agriche family… by then… would I have children…?

BAM!

Your poor knees-! At the thought of having children - his children - your body just gives up again, as always. That’s the only thing you’re capable of, as experience has shown. 

“...children… right, children… I have to give that man kids… kids that will go through the same thing he went through…” Will you be able to love them, if they come into existence? You have to, they would be yours.

Or would you end up just like Jeremy’s mother? Horrified at the sight of her own child, refusing to spend time with them. Seeing them as an irredeemable monster that you would do anything and everything to avoid?

Chomp. 

Your thumb once again becomes a victim to your teeth, the imprint becoming deeper and drawing more blood.  It hurts, it hurts, it hurts- but as the thought of starting a family with Dion Agriche deepens, the more you need to find something sturdy. Your thumb is enough to keep you grounded, yes, it is, and no, you’re not planning an early funeral, visualizing the area you want to hold it, or the dress your cold corpse would wear, or your family’s crying faces -

No, stop it. This isn’t - this isn’t… this isn’t what I want to be.

 Licking the flesh wound, accepting the taste and smell of iron, you are not met with clarity nor bravery; just, temporary acceptance. This is your life. This was what the Gods had planned for you. This is what you have become - a wife to the future Black Agriche Heir. 

His first wife.

Despite the blood and saliva, your mouth feels dry. Nausea builds back up, gagging and breath becoming short. It’s becoming hard to breathe. 

Your lungs are being squeezed, throat constricted with an invisible ball gag - vision blurred with what? What’s this hot liquid running down your cheeks? Are you crying ? Again?

Something is choking you. Your head is starting to feel fuzzy, a pounding in your chest you can’t get. Everything is warped, shapes turning into mush, black merging with white, a hammer bashing against your head. Only the sound of rushing blood and a running heart is heard. Only the thought of death remains. 

“No…no, I - I - this-!” you curl into yourself, kneeling as your forehead touches the floor, hands interlocked around your head as your lower arms and elbows rest on the tiles. Sobbing violently, your mind crashes again. You were never strong. 

Not then, not now. 

- - -

“Young Master Dion has been sent off on an errand; the dinner with Master Lant has been postponed until tomorrow, at six o’clock.” Hana informs you as she sets out your breakfast: oatmeal and water. Just what your now very sensitive stomach and nerves need. Did she overhear your little mental breakdown not even an hour ago? Or was this the usual breakfast for the residents of the Agriche compound? 

“I see.” You hoarsely reply, voice still recovering. This is a good thing - you don’t have to see the devil’s face for yet another day. Her news also answers your question; Dion is out on an errand and they weren’t planning to axe you. Yet. Hopefully never. 

Still, the curiosity of your husband’s duties lingers. You shouldn’t involve yourself anymore than what you currently are. Curiosity always kills the cat. So, you bite your tongue, deciding against asking her what your oh so lovely husband’s chore is… but, if you are to play the role as a wife, his wife, should you ask him once he returns? Like how one would greet their spouse once they return from work. 

Hello dear… ick, no. Hey, how was your day… no, next. Are you tired? Do you want a bath…?

Or maybe you should just ignore the subject all together. His business isn’t yours, so why bother?

Besides, what if he doesn’t like you ‘snooping’ in his business? But at the same time, he’s been acting so weird and unlike how he was portrayed in the story. So while that Dion would find your questions annoying or useless, this Dion may want you to ask about his day. Fuck, it’s all so confusing and irritating 

 “Hm. Hana, is there anything on today’s schedule?” 

“No, not yet my Lady.” 

Not yet. What does she mean by not yet? Does that mean she’s aware that someone will interrupt your tiny bit of peace at some point today? Her short dark brown hair slightly bounces as she shuffles her weight onto one leg. “However, my Lady, I could… tell them that you’re recovering from ‘last night.’”

Her suggestion makes your grip on the cup loose, dropping the glass onto your lap as water soaks it. 

“My Lady! Are you alright?” In a panic, Hana grabs some of the napkins on the table and pats your lap to soak up some of the water after removing the now empty glass. “My apologies - I shouldn’t have brought up such a vulgar suggestion…” Her once collected face and behavior shatters at the drop of a hat, ‘concerned’ about your safety. 

Or was it for hers? 

“I-it’s fine… no worries,” a tight lipped smile that only makes her brows furrow more and treats you gentler. Like you were made of glass. Well, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth… 

“No, really. I just need to change clothes…” Once she’s done with soaking most of the water up you stand and walk to the closet. Opening the doors you skim over the options. Hana’s footsteps stop right behind you. Why is it so hard to have personal space in this place…

Your gaze travels upwards and for the first time, do you notice the Agriche family's crest engraved into the wood. Bitterness explodes in your mouth. It seems that no matter where you are in this place, there will always be a physical reminder of where you are - of who you belong to. No matter, you tell yourself. Besides, this isn’t even your room - 

It was your husband’s. And maybe after a month, if not less, into your marriage, you’ll be assigned your own. …why were you sharing a room with him to begin with? Probably to increase the chances of conceiving a child sooner rather than later. 

“... does that even make sense?” you murmur in amusement. Lant wasn’t even dead yet. But, you think, maybe he wanted his son to have a child so he could start to shape them into this tainted and sadistic mold ahead of time before he kicks the bucket. To ensure that the child - your child - would follow in their father’s footsteps. 

To see if they would carry the same air and expectations as your husband does. 

How cruel. 

“Hana, I’ll let you choose it; they’re all so… beautiful that I can’t choose.” In reality you’re getting a headache from looking at the family crest. Which just became yours. 

“...yes, my Lady,” she follows your order without question, going through the options. 

Not even a few minutes later she pulls one out. 

It matches your husband’s eyes. A brilliant shade of scarlet, it practically glows. A sheer black neck piece that forms as a choker and covers your cleavage but leaves your shoulders bare. Black lace is on the hem, flowers engraved into the pattern. The body of the dress is a solid scarlet. 

“It’s beautiful.” You compliment her choice of style hiding how the beautiful piece of clothing makes your fingers twitch and brings the urge to vomit forward. Oh, how horrible it is, to not even be able to enjoy such a sight. 

How horrible it is, to be born into this world after a helpless first life only to repeat the cycle, but worse. 

[blacktofade]

I am quite new to Tumblr and while I know that this isn't what you usually post you are one of the only rpf writers that I actively know of and you seem to know the community so I thought I would just ask you

But no pressure to answer if you don't want to

I am writing a nsfw fanfic of rpf Arizona Dads but it is reader insert and I have no clue how to tag these types of things on Tumblr. (Ex Twitter-User here 😬) especially since that recent discourse I am just afraid of tagging stuff incorrectly but since my blog is entirely new I don't think anyone would see this, if I don't tag it, right?

I'm just a little confused and thought I would ask, really hope you don't mind

Hello darling anon!!!! Welcome to Tumblr! I'm actually thrilled you reached out to me with this question cause I'm like a broody chicken where I want to tuck everyone under my feathers and keep them safe!

Tagging for MCYT fandoms has been a learning curve for me, so you're definitely not alone in your confusion. The advice I give is just from personal experience, so I welcome anyone reading this to offer corrections if need be!

Also, when I say maintag, I mean it's a tag on a new post you've created. Adding tags on something you reblog doesn't put that post in the tags for others to see, it's just for personal organization on your blog. (I've had people get mad at me for reblogging something with a "maintag" and honestly they can suck my dick to the base. That's not how Tumblr works.)

So, from what I can tell, if it's NSFW content, don't maintag "hermitcraft" or any CCs/characters. For example, if you're posting a fic about giving Tango the big time sloppy head he deserves, don't tag it with "tangotek". You should instead use a tagging system for your own blog. In this case, you could use the tag "t.angotek". It will stop the post appearing in Tango's maintag, but would be easy to navigate on your own blog.

RPF is a whole other can of worms, cause people don't like if you tag that with "hermitshipping". I tend to use "hermitshipping rpf", and I haven't been yelled at so far LOL

Ship tags are much harder when you get into multiple pairing territory. I think in your case, I might just be tempted to use an "arizona dad" tag. Maybe run a search and check what kind of content is in that tag first and decide if you want your post to show up there.

Then because it's reader insert fic, I'd use "reader fic" and/or "reader insert fic" tags.

Basically, sharing NSFW RPF content in this fandom is impossible in the maintags, so basically no one will see it, like you said. It really sucks. If you want it to be found, the trick is to make friends with The Perverts of the fandom, cause we all just reblog posts amongst ourselves lmfao

Start following RPF friendly blogs, cause we're a pretty small community but everyone is VERY friendly and willing to boost content.

[olderthannetfic]

The moment it really clicked with me how downhill online etiquette had gone was when I realized we were all collectively expected to put our personal info or content warnings in our bios. Why? If you don’t want to see certain content from certain people filter out tags. If that blog doesn’t use tags and you require filtering then just don’t follow that blog or block them. No but that is not good enough. I have to tell everyone LOUDLY that I reblog nsfw content because ‘think of the 16 year old children’ or whatever. Okay. Those teenager children can also just filter out tags I am not required to list my personal information or to put a neon NSFW sign in my description for that to happen.

Just use the tags. We’ve always had that why do people now require my blog description give them warning? Why can’t you be responsible for yourselves?

My advice to anyone reading this is the same advice I would give someone online 10 years ago. Do not advertise your personal information online. That’s just my opinion and I’m not changing my habits because some would be bully thinks it’s “sus” not to.

--

Honestly, I think we expect to take things in at a glance far too much too.

If I suddenly started posting tons of explicit images, sure, that could be annoying since it would be a change. But I've had tons of people send me weird asks demanding that I explain my blog to them or being confused about why such-and-such is on here when such-and-such is routinely on here.

When I'm curious about someone, I usually scroll through a couple of months of their tumblr to see what sorts of things they normally post. Even then, it might take some time of interacting with them before I have a sense of who they are.

That's how learning a person or a space works.

But a lot of people expect to see cliff notes in the sidebar and for these to have been updated recently with great accuracy.

[lggy]

what is going on with aphmau im so confused

scroll down my reblogs, you will see aphmaus tiktok posted yesterday, or go on tiktok if you have it

jess addressed the age-gap, grooming, pedo accusations against jason and revealed that as a teenager, she had lied about her age up until she turned 18 before she and jason could meet up irl. (that was 15 years ago) she had apologized to jason and is upset that jason has been targeted for years over her lies. she asked fans not to assume anything over anyones relationship.

other things in the tiktok, basically some things she had already addressed in old livestreams but she builds upon them:

- jason did not force or convince her to write aarmau because he was jealous of garroth. she wrote stories on her own, only asking jason when she needed help. (I always thought this accusation was stupid as fuck lol i literally made a post about this the other day)

- ^it was toxic garmau fans harassing her online and IRL and stalking her (and her address got leaked but that's hearsay I've no sources for that) that drove her to change the story mcd s2

- ^there was a stalker, that got privately addressed

new things:

- I think she was referring to the wiki when she mentioned character bios specifically age+family ties????😅😅 aw shit... cuz I recently started adding ages on their mystreet bio using some math... now I'm scared its all incorrect...... Jess pls if you read this heeelp I can fix it

- SHES BRINGING AN OLD SERIES BACK✅. She keeps emphasizing the garmau toxic fan situation so its actually very likely mcd??!??? Which I'm like WTF about CUZ I NEVER THOUGHT.......

[604to647]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @magpiepills @mermaidgirl30 @evolnoomym @ace-turned-confused @milla-frenchy 😘😘

As usual, am chugging away on the final chapter of Safest with You and I'm pretty pleased with how it's going 🥰 No snippets to avoid spoilers but wanted to say all the recent kind recs, reblogs and asks on the series have been so motivating and gotten me quite emotional about bringing this series to a close 🥹 Thank you guys so much 🥰

Have a really short, fluffy instalment of The Rockford Portfolio that is meant to round out the answer to this ask by @bebsjo about how Tim would act if Shutterbug was sick 😷 I'll probably post that tomorrow! Edit: It's up!

And speaking of Tim (18+ Content below, MDNI please):

Tim rewards you by roughly pulling down the cups of your flimsy bra so that he can continue to touch you without the lace barrier.  His actions don’t go unnoticed by Marcus, whose eyes flick down to your newly uncovered chest.

The younger man licks his lips, “These tits.”

You feel Tim growl against the nape of your neck.  Smiling to yourself, you sigh, “Play nice, Detective.”  And at your words, Tim relents and drops his hands down to your ass, kneading and palming possessively.

“Go on, Agent,” you coo.

(I think it will be a mini series? Don't look at me?! 😂)

NPT to @aurorawritestoescape @kedsandtubesocks @inept-the-magnificent @ghotifishreads @jeewrites anyone else who wants to share! 😘😘

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not deleting my CNC blog?

Okay, so, I know there were two rape kink blog submissions recently, but this one is completely unrelated to those two.

I (23M) have a CNC/Rape kink. For quite a while, i've had a blog with my fantasies on it. Nothing I personally wrote really, just reblogs and the occasional "anyone into this may enjoy this thought I had" type thoughts.

I had started seeing someone (26M) who also had this kink, and i had shown the blog to him. We had enacted some of the scenarios out, but long story short, the relationship didn't work out and we decided we'd be better friends.

I keep up with my blog, because I still have this kink regardless of who I'm with.

Later on, he texts me and tells me it's weird I keep posting about things I want him to do to me. I'm obviously confused, and clarify I had my blog before we started even seeing each other. I had never posted about/reblogged things for him specifically, except when we were together, but even then, those were mostly indistinguishable from my other posts besides the fact I'd personally send him some (and any of my specific posts deleted)

He still states it's weird that I think about him that way (I don't) and that I post things about him (I don't). He demands I delete my blog because he doesn't like something like that about him out there, much less managed by me. I refuse, because the blog isn't about him, it's for me. He calls me a freak and blocks me.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[gremlin-writes-angst]

"Lets get food"

The (short, less than 1k) beginning of my brother's best friend fanfic featuring Ash x Darlin

Currently unsure of what the whole fic rating will be but for this chapter id say it pretty safe.

content and trigger warnings: mention of vampire feeding, low energy, mentions of sleeping around.

I'd like to thank everyone who liked my original post about this idea. I had started writing a ( completely different) first chapter but wasn't feeling inspired till people started liking that post

a special thanks to @professionallyyappin and @dawnofiight . Thank you for rebloging my idea and just helping me feel motivated

Sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes and enjoy :)

'Let's get food'

A seemingly normal text message 

That was the point,  so if anyone, more specifically David, saw it, he wouldn't think twice about it 

But what it meant was 

“ I need a ride after sleeping with a stranger”

Darlin didn't drive anymore, not after Gabe

And there was no way they were going to let David know how many people they slept with

Originally they would just walk home, in the dark sketchy parts of town

Until Asher saw them one day

“Darlin?”

He called out at the hooded figure

They ignored him

“ Darlin, I know that's you.”

They didn't know why he called them that, he was the only one

“What Asher?”

They turned to face Asher, his car stopping in the middle of the road.

Darlin looked around and as usual, no other cars were on the street

“ What are you doing out here? I don't know if you've checked the time recently but, it's not walking around time.”

He smiled at them

“I'm just- yeah”

They didn't want to admit the truth.

They couldn't let him tell David

“That's not a very good answer”

He laughed before leaning over and opening the passenger door from inside

“ get in, I'll take you where you need to be”

He offered but didn't demand,  like most of the men Darlin knew.

“ I'm- “

They take a moment to breathe,  feeling woozy From the blood loss

“ I'm all good Ashy”

He barked out a laugh

“ If you're calling me Ashy, you're not good.”

They couldn't argue.

So they climbed in, defending their self

“ This is just easier, I could handle myself”

Their sparky sentence was shorter than it typically would be. 

Another sign something was wrong

“ I know, but you don't seem at your full strength. And like you said, this is easier”

After a while he realized they weren't going to buckle their seat, so he leaned over to do so.

They simply rolled their eyes

Asher started to drive

Darlin Didn't say anything for a long time

he even though they might have dozed off.

Until they gasped and pointed

“Wendy's. Ashy we have to get Wendy's!”

They called him Ashy again,  he's starting to like it

Silently he pulls into the parking lot and parks

“ They have a drive through”

Darlin states 

“Darlin, If you're trying to hide what I think you're hiding from David, we're going to need more time.”

A vague sentence but Darlin caught on

“ lobby it is”

Darlin had a new pep in their step as they entered and started the order.

Once Darlin was done, Asher added his burger along with the same thing they ordered.

Before Darlin could get their wallet Asher had already Paid

It was a little disorienting, Darlin always paid, not because they preferred but simply because they knew the other wouldn't

They were too confused to even say thank you.

They found a table, amongst the sea of empty tables

Before Asher sat down their order was called, so he went to get it.

Setting the food down before going to fill up their drinks

When he returned, Darlin had already started to wolf down their burger

No pun intended

They didn't say a word as they reached for their drink, taking a swig before going back for a big bite

Asher just smiled to himself

When Darlin finished their burger they spoke

“ How'd you know what drink I wanted”

He jokingly rolled his eyes at the Question

“ I've known you for like, 8 years now. If I didn't know what drink you preferred I wouldn't be a good friend”

They started stealing fries from Ashers' plates, even though they still had their own heaping pile

With fries in their mouth, they said

“ I didn't know you considered us friends”

The sentence made Asher feel cold 

He prides himself on being a good friend to almost everyone. 

Darlin quickly caught on to Asher's negative reaction and tried to reverse it.

“ Not that you were bad or anything but I just thought you were David's friend,  and I was just an extension of David”

Darlin's words didn't seem to cheer Asher up, but he still smiled And pretended it was fine

“ Well I see you as your person, even if you are related to David, you are not just His little sibling to me”

Darlin felt chills at that

Good chills

Probably their first time getting good chills

They didn't realize that was important to them

But they couldn't let Asher know that

“I'm only 4 months younger Than him”

Asher takes a bite of his food before, with His mouth full, continuing the conversation

“I wasn't talking age, he's At least a foot taller Than you”

Darlin laughed and rolled their eyes.

They then pointed to the extra burger

“ Can I?”

Others would probably not find that short sentence charming,  but Asher did. 

At least in perspective 

Darlin was actively stealing Asher's fries but when It came to the burger they asked.

And when they asked, their voice was shy and sweet. 

Asher liked every part of Darlin', but it was a side the soft sweet side one they hid away, so it was like a treat for Asher

“ I got it for you. So yeah”

Darlins' energy seemed to dip again, not severely but Asher noticed it. 

He decides to hold back his thoughts for the day.

Darlin finished Their food and they left

The rest of the night was uneventful As he drove them home

He messaged them that night

'I know you can take care of yourself, but you don't have to'

After he sent it he felt vulnerable, so he tried to soften it

'We can get food to'

Low and behold a couple of days later he got a text

'Let's get food'

Followed By an address 

Darlin was letting Asher into a part of Their life.

A part only he was allowed

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Two: The Mission, or Is Barfing on Captain America's Shoes Treason?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut (but not in this chapter), fluff, eventual canon-typical violence (but not in this chapter) MINORS DNI. A/N: I've got the first handful of chapters pre-written, so I'm posting the first two together. I hope you enjoy it! Every reblog and comment makes the sun shine a little brighter :) Chapter 2/?

Summary: Cleo's recent library visit attracts the attention of some familiar heroes.

Chapter Directory

“We’ve triangulated the energy signature. We’ll put you down just a few streets away in a parking lot. Remember - keep the weapons to a minimum, you’re trying to blend in on a college campus. Not that any of you are smart enough to pull that off.”

Steve adjusts his button down and huffs a laugh. “Thanks, Tony.” He sets his shield in one of the empty chairs near the front of the Quinjet. Despite his hopes, it did not fit in a backpack, and he has three shredded pieces of canvas to prove it.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “That explains why you sat this one out. Boys and their toys.”

Meanwhile, Bucky and Sam sit in their usual attire, the latter grinning smugly. The pair gets to keep all the bells and whistles they could want as the team’s muscle and eye in the sky, respectively. 

“Come on,” Tony’s voice comes over the coms. “You’re telling me you can’t handle a few drunk college kids without me?”

Sam clears his throat at that. “Pepper tell ya no?”

Tony scoffs, his com cutting out by way of answer. 

Steve chuckles. “You’ll pay for that later.”

******

I’m in the middle of developing a detailed plan for my evening - starting with a tv dinner and ending in a very long bath and maybe an episode or two of Supernatural - when I suddenly feel a chill up my spine. I freeze on the sidewalk, sensing the intensity of someone’s eyes. I glance around nervously but, finding nobody, I reach into my bag and pick up my pace. 

I hold my keys inside my bag and slide the lock on my pepper spray keychain. Awareness, I think. Be aware of your surroundings. I don’t see anyone on the street, which is strange enough that it makes me more nervous than if there were mobs of frat boys milling about.

Just as I begin the climb up the steps to my building, I hear a voice call out behind me. 

“Ma’am!” 

I whirl around, still palming the pepper spray. A man looking uncomfortable in jeans and a too-small polo steps a little closer. I wonder where he came from - I was looking carefully and hadn’t spotted him anywhere. Don’t act nervous. Don’t let him see you falter.

“Can I help you?” I ask warily.

“As a matter of fact, you can, Miss Blake.”

I eye the man, noticing just how very large he is, but also finding something familiar in his face - even in the dark. Though he must be familiar, if he knows my name. “Do I know you? You’re not in the classics department, are you? History?” 

I swear I hear a chuckle from somewhere above me, but I don’t want to turn my back on the stranger to find the source. Besides, I know how I get in these situations and it was probably the wind.

He frowns. “No, ma’am. I think you know why I’m here.”

At that, I roll my eyes, a little tension leaving my shoulders. I don’t release my pepper spray, though. “Jesus Horatio Christ, I knew this would happen. Listen, I don’t know what he’s put you up to, but you can turn around and march right back to that frat house Grant calls an apartment and tell him to kindly fuck off. I told him, if he wants the fellowship, he’ll have to earn it.”

The man’s eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion as he shakes his head. “What? No, listen, ma’am. You have something that you really shouldn’t, and I’m just here to make sure it gets to the right people.” He takes a step closer, hands up and palms out like he’s trying to show me he means no harm. Yeah, right.

I take a few nervous paces backward, stumbling a bit on the stone steps, and drop the pepper spray to rifle through my bag. I’m running through my options mentally, calculating risks and outcomes as quickly as possible.

Don’t act nervous. Don’t let him see you falter.

“Look, giant stranger who knows my name, you’re more than welcome to mug me and I won’t even put up a fight, but you should know that you’ll only be getting a handful of maxed out credit cards and an identity that, if stolen, comes complete with a shitty credit score and a mountain of student loan debt. But hey,” I pull out my wallet one-handed, hoping he doesn’t hear the beep of the keypad behind my back. “I think I’m only one punch away from a free cup of coffee.”

Distract. Deny opportunities to attack.

I throw my wallet at his chest with all my might, watching it bounce off and land at his feet anticlimactically. I ignore the confused look on his face and, when he bends down to pick it up, I spin and run through the door I’d eased open while speaking, slamming it shut and sighing in relief. It’s a secure building, I think. No way he’s getting in.

Get somewhere safe. Call for help.

On shaky legs, I climb the stairs to my second-story apartment and pull up the number for campus security on my phone. I decide that I’ll get inside and then give them a call, not wanting to be distracted in the open hallway.

You’re safe, I tell myself. You’re smarter, stronger, and more prepared now - nothing like that will ever happen again.

I enter my apartment in almost a fugue state, dropping my keys in the little woven bowl by the door on autopilot. I kick off my shoes and drop my bag, turn on the lights, and proceed to let out a sound I did not previously know I was capable of making.

A woman dressed in yoga pants and a fitted top lounges on my favorite chair, legs thrown casually over the arm, and a very menacing man in some sort of black tactical-looking suit stands in the center of the room with his arms folded. His long, dark hair obscures most of his face.

“I -” I begin, but my voice comes out strangled and unrecognizable. Confidence. I clear my throat and try again. “I’ve already called campus security,” I lie, doing my best to keep my voice from shaking. “And despite what you might’ve heard, the segways actually move pretty quickly.”

My door swings open behind me and I spin wildly, trying to keep each stranger in my line of sight. I mentally curse myself - did I lock my door? Awareness. 

“Miss Blake, we know you didn’t call anyone. We jammed your cell signal,” the large man from earlier tells me. His voice is surprisingly gentle - almost apologetic.

The woman, however, is nothing but snark and boredom when she speaks. “We’ve got you surrounded.” She stands easily from the chair, stretching her limbs casually - like she isn’t someone who broke into my apartment. “Just hand it over and we all get to move on with our lives, okay?” She holds a hand out like I actually have something to give her, and my eyes dart between the three intruders.

And suddenly, I don’t even have to try to sound like I’m not scared anymore. I feel nothing. Numb. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Beefcake over there already has my wallet and unless you can read Ancient Greek, there’s nothing here for you to take but a few bottles of wine. They’re in the kitchen, but fair warning - they probably taste like shit because I know fuck all about wine and Meg’s a cheapskate.” I babble on, wondering somewhere in the back of my mind if this is what it feels like to be in shock. You’d think I’d remember, I muse distantly.

The trio exchange confused looks before the menacing-looking man steps forward. “I’m getting sick of playing games.” His voice holds no malice, just pure annoyance, and that almost bothers me more. “Just grab her, Cap, and let’s get the hell out of here. Let some techs come toss the place later.” 

Cap. I squint at Beefcake, then the woman, then - my eyes catch on something metallic folded across the chest of Grumpy and it all comes together. I hear my own voice like it’s coming through a wind tunnel, like it doesn’t belong to me at all. “You should’ve brought Dr. Banner with you,” distant me says, pointing a thumb at the Winter fucking Soldier. “I’m not wild about this guy’s attitude, and also I think I’m going to be sick.”

I feel the same inky black as before, with only a moment’s time to wonder if barfing on Captain America’s shoes counts as treason.

[echantedtoon]

OK!! So just to let everyone know!!!

I'm coming out here because a friend just recently informed me that I was named during some drama so here's some info so everyone is aware and know what's what.

I have absolutely NO standing in what's happening between hawnkoi/Hawnkoii and warringwarrioridiot. I was not even AWARE of anything happening between them!

2. I. Do. NOT. Even. Know who Warringwarrioridiot is! The most I have ever interacted with them was I drew fanart of her oc ONCE along with multiple other kny blogs, and I did reblog their art from time to time if it randomly came across my dash again as I did with countless other kny blogs.

3. I am not friends or even acquaintances really with either WWI or Hawnkoii/hawnkoi. I know they're both kny blogs and other than the mentioned actions above, that's really the only interactions I've had with either of them. Just making them art once or twice and a few reblogs. That's it.

4. I find it very confusing because this isn't the first time it happened. Got THIS last night.

Again i DON'T associate with either WWI or the TikTok account mentioned in this post so I have no idea why someone would send this to me.

If anyone reads this, please just know that I am not going to associate myself in whatever drama is going on and I have nothing to do with either party.

This isn't a call out post.

This isn't a post pointing fingers at anyone other than the person spreading misinformation/making assumptions about me.

This is just me simply making everyone aware of my standing in this, which i don't have a standing because I'm not involved and had legit zero idea what's going on between those people. So if the person or people spreading those lies about me are seeing this, please stop and please don't associate me with anyone else's personal matters. If anyone else reads this, please just know that I have no association with the people mentioned in this post beyond what I stated.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Hello, I don't get the "couch theory is a deeply buried fandom thing" going on ? I rewatched the beginning of season 6 just yesterday and it's a completely canon theory that Buck exposes to Eddie then to Bobby in those exact words, so I'm confused at the freak out ?

Hey Nonnie

Sooooooo Couch theory actually goes back to pre season 6 times and there is a difference between couch theory and couch meta - I shall attempt to explain!

So there have been jokes bouncing around fandom since fairly early on about Buck and couches - partly because they've always been a low key thing on the show (Buck and Eddie helping Maddie move her couch, Buck sleeping on Maddies/Chims couches when he moved out of Abbys, his comment about sleeping on the couch after the truck bombing etc) but some time mid way through s4 (I think - someone can correct me if I'm wrong) it was mentioned that Buck rarely interacts with anyone on a couch except Eddie and Chris - especially as time has gone on. it didn't really go anywhere aside from being a fun observation. It picked up a bit when we had Buck sleeping on the Diaz couch after the shooting - but it really was a fandom thing that we had a bit of fun with - and it becae a staple of fanfic.

Fast forward to season 5 and suddenly Bucks couch became a real thing - especially when Taylor moved into Bucks loft - I made an off hand comment at some point (I can't find the post) about how Taylors couch being blue and brought in by the two guys was a metaphor for Eddie during the shooting - how Eddie was always the thing between them in their relationship, not Lucy. Anyway things spiralled from there and there were many conversations happening about the couch being used as a metaphor for Buck's relationships etc - most of this was during the hiatus between seasons 5 and 6.

Then when season 6 started and Buck hadn't gotten a new couch, and he acknowledged why he hadn't got a new couch - the very thing we had been discussing over hiatus - and Oliver and Kristen Reidel mentioned it in an interview as well.

So now we're in a situation where the character has attached his own meaning to his couch, while we in fandom have out own thing going on with the couch of it all, essentially creating two different theories. Well a theory and a metaphor. I have recently reblogged a lot of hte couch theory posts should anyone want to read them for the full theory and exploration of the subject, but what it essentially boil down to is the following;

Couch theory is the fandom theory about Buck and his relationship with couches and encompasses the fact that its far more tied to the Diaz boys - such as the fact that post coma, Buck can only find the peace to sleep on the Diaz couch and not on his own - the one his mother had brought him. the theory posts explore the fact that we see Buck on the Diaz couch far more than anyone elses couch (in fact irc, other than his own couch, we rarely see Buck actually on a couch - chairs or armchairs yes but rarely couches - in other peoples houses!)

Then there is the couch metaphor - which is the symbolism Buck himself placed on his couch - it is the part of the theory that has crossed over as the character has become self aware of this specific aspect of the couch of it all - it is him recognising that he hasn't actually been the one to chose his couch - that his girlfriends have chosen them for him - and within that that he didn't have much agency in choosing the relationships either (this is not to say he didn't want to be in those relationships or that he was forced into them, it is him acknowledging that he has essentially been chased/ pursued and then gone along blindly, rather than the other way round, or an equal pursue/ pursued situation.) so like his needing to choose a new couch, he is going to take his time choosing his next partner.

Now we have a situation where Buck was seemingly going to pick out a new couch with Natalia at the end of s6 - which should, by implication of the weight Buck placed on the choosing of a new couch, mean that Natalia was the one - that Buck himself felt he had agency in his choice of relationship - and that he could stop placing so much weight on the couch and its symbolism.

Only we're in season 7 now, Buck didn't last very long with Natalia (a few weeks at most as the season is meant to more or lest pick up where s6 left off) and we haven't seen (properly) the new couch in the loft. In Bucks head he may no longer be placing any importance on the metaphor of the couch, however, the shows reluctance to give us little more than a glimpse through the stairs of a couch existing in the space, despite the fact we've had a couple of scenes in the loft now, is suggestive that there might in fact be more to the couch theory still to play out. Thats not the part the character is aware of (the metaphor) its the part he is un aware of - the part the audience is aware of - the theory that shows the Diaz boys as being central to the couch and Bucks search for happiness.

So couch theory lives on (it never died) and we wait to see how things play out with Buck getting (already having) a new couch, the fact that he already has one and where things head in relation to the diaz boys and Eddies couch - because Chris is the only one who has sat on it so far this season!

I hope this helps clear things up a little Nonnie but feel free to come back with more questions if you have them.

[levisgirll]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐙𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: hello everyone!! I went through my drafts and realized I never got the chance to post this and felt the need to do it (with some editing). I have decided to combine these two requests together to bring out and make a very fluff but some angst headcanons, it was actually interesting for me to do something like this. I did this because they had a similar theme and I wanted it to have a very fluff ending and longer writing for you all since I keep seeing more likes and reblogs in my account so thank you so much to all after all this time! Enjoy it :,)

synopsis: coming from the underground and having to adapt to a new environment is quite challenging for anyone, especially having to deal with people constantly bullying and picking on y/n just because she is different. Y/n is a very determined person and always tries her keep on going. Although, it does get hard on her later and Captain Levi does take notice of that. He usually doesn’t worry a lot about new cadets, but y/n coming from the underground, Levi could relate, and actually feel sympathy towards her. He slowly begins to worry for her more and care for her which leads to him being protective and enjoying being with Y/n....but something happens and Captain Levi does not hold back anymore. 

word count: 2.2k. fluff, comfort, angst, warning: slight picking on, bullying, aot world, headcanons & fanfiction ♡ —

Finally, y/n was free from that damned place. It felt like she was going to be there for the rest of her life but she finally made it out. Apparently, the military needed some more people to join the Survey crops since a lot had left, were injured and many died recently in the last expedition when they rescued Eren the titan shifter from the enemies. 

A lot hesitated, but y/n did not care. She just needed to leave this toxic environment that was draining her each day. But little did she know, the outside world was going to be the biggest challenge she had to face.

“Everyone salute and welcome your new cadets!” Mike Zacharias, the instructor, yelled out across the field that you were pretty sure your eardrums were going to burst. 

“Hey I heard there is someone from the underground that joined the survey crops, is that true?” someone uttered which you overheard as you looked at them. They quickly glanced at you, staring at you deeply with a look of judgment. ‘Yup, this is not welcoming at all.’ Y/n thought as she looked away and started to introduce herself. 

“I’m Y/N L/N, I hope I can keep up with everyone’s pace and learn from you.” Y/n said eagerly, finally it was a new start for her, no more getting bad treatment in the underground, no one being rude to her. She heard a lot about being part of the survey crops, you finally get some respect from people as part of a famous regiment.

“Where did you come from huh?” Someone yelled from the crowd, ‘Huh? why is he asking that, does it really matter where I am coming from?’ Y/n thought as she gave a look of concern and worry. “Um, from....the underground.” As soon as she uttered that, the whole vibe changed and everyone looked at each other.

The squad leader just gave a sigh and left. It seemed like he knew this would be the start of a big problem and did not want to be responsible for it. But, he glanced back at Y/n, “Please....don’t cause any trouble.” Then he finally left.

Y/n was now even more confused. Was there a reason that there would be trouble in the first place? She decided to just let that thought slide since it had no answer and decided to go into her cabin.

—

Okay, now she gets it. It’s cause she was from the underground and no one was from there and treated them differently. It seemed like any place she went to would never be welcoming. The group of trainers had started to treat her differently, when it was lunch time no one would sit with her, or if she needed advice they would always ignore her or tell her to ‘figure it out’. Y/n had no friends and no one by her side, she accepted that fact but then wondered...Was there something wrong with her maybe? She kept doubting herself now and that was the last thing she wanted.

Although, not everyone was treating her differently. Corporal Levi was their instructor for the use of 3D maneuver gear. Apparently, he is known as the strongest soldier who performed exceptionally well in everything.

Levi was observant, that was not something hard to guess coming from a man who is very much experienced. He noticed the gap between the recruits and...Y/n. He did find that odd and probably thought perhaps she didn’t take a shower.

Well. Yes, he was not treating her differently because Levi actually treats everyone the same! So perhaps Y/n would take that as...fair treatment for once?

“Alright, that’s enough for today.” Just as everyone was ready to go have dinner and relax Levi stood in front of Y/n. “You. I’m gonna need you to stay behind and follow me.”

Okay scratch that ‘fair treatment’. Y/n was wondering now what she had done after following Levi. She noticed then that he was quite muscular from the back and he really...did look quite attractive upfront. Later on, she noticed that she was in his office.

“So what’s the deal with you?”. Hearing that suddenly once he sat down on his chair made Y/n nervous but still stood her ground. “I... dont think I understand, Corporal.” 

“Listen, I need to know what’s going on. Being part of the survey crops means we need to collaborate together, but if there is an issue then I’ll need to hear it, Hm?”

Was he concerned about her perhaps? Y/n then decided to go ahead and tell him about how she was one of the newer recruits that joined coming from the underground and was the reason everyone was giving her that behaviour. Levi was completely off guard, he looked at her with surprise that she herself never seen.

“Okay....I think I get it now. Clearly, there are some shitheads that I need to deal with.” Y/n now was the one who stood off guard. “S-Sir? I didn’t mean to complain or anything!” She was now worried. Scared knowing that maybe now she had done it for herself and made this a bigger problem as it is.

“Don’t worry, just go back for now. I’ll see you in the morning.” He said as he got up and then put his hand gently on her shoulder. “You are....doing a great job. Hang in there.”

And with that, she was left alone in his office, but with a warm feeling, so warm it warmed her heart. He was indeed not what the rumours said about him. But perhaps, it was the same with her since she knew there were some nasty rumors going around. Then she thought ‘Just maybe....I found someone I can relate to’

—

Ever since then, Levi seemed irritated with the other scouts as he did notice and heard some remarks about others mocking Y/n. As well as the way they were just really acting like a bunch of kids who were not mature and had no idea what was coming from them. They truly were pathetic. “You know, it’s best not to be with such pathetic people.” He said suddenly as he was helping Y/n fix her 3DMG which mysteriously got jammed. 

Y/n felt these past few weeks that Levi was caring for her.....but in his own way.

Whenever they had a break, he would go over to Y/n and have a small chat. Nothing big just simple talks. “Make sure to wear good clothes...you know the winter is around the corner.” Y/n quite liked the small chats, it was a while since she had such a nice refreshing chat with someone. But she did not expect Levi to be the one, as he was not very vocal but she noticed actions spoke louder than words for him. Always giving her water or some biscuits for her to have, and checking on her equipment. It felt like she was cared for once and it did make her have an unknown feeling. It was quite complex for her to figure out but, it made her feel happy for sure though.

Whenever she got bullied by the other scouts on how she was just a nobody and just a junkie from the underground, it really made her feel embarrassed and she started wearing a hood over her head just to not be seen or known by others. However, that did not work for Levi as he spotted her quickly as she was sitting beside a tree. “Y/n? Why are you hiding there.” She looked up and saw him with a concerned look. But she gave a small smile, he was....different that was for sure.

“I just wanted to be alone, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Then, would you like me to leav-”

“No!” Y/n did not realize that she had just now raised her voice, but not only that....also grabbing the Corporal's wrist! She quickly backed away and before she was about to say something, Levi just started to....laugh? The whole atmosphere changed within seconds and Y/n just found herself smiling like an idiot. 

“Yeah, I am convinced now that you are an idiot.” He sat beside her and looked at her with a reassuring smile. Now she was a blushing mess, she just knew her face was heating up! Just being beside him the whole time, made her forget about what even made her upset from the beginning and not feel insecure anymore. Levi made her feel that just being herself was nothing wrong, nothing to be embarrassed about. Just spending time with Levi made her realize that, as someone like himself who really doesn’t seem to care about what others say about him while doing what he has to do was the highlight for her. She was y/n, her own person, and also....maybe an idiot according to Levi? But she will take that.

Y/n wasn’t sure what this unknown feeling was, but she wanted to keep feeling it for way longer. As time went by, she felt Levi’s worry and care for her. Whenever they passed by each other, he would look at her with a small smile, and sometimes when they were alone he made y/n to call him Levi.

—

Again, her 3DMG wasn’t working. She was quite disappointed in herself for not maintaining her gear, this would definitely not make her survive outside the walls if she had this problem occurring.

Y/n looked over at Levi who seemed quite angry and annoyed. She felt something in her gut that today...something was gonna happen.

“Alright, who done it.” The whole training area in the forest got silent. Everyone looks at each other with fear in their eyes. ‘What...? Don’t tell me.’

And that’s when Y/n figured it out, someone was tampering with her 3DMG! It was not just a coincidence after all.  However, that left her feeling terrible. Levi could see that and that’s when he snapped when seeing just how hurt Y/n was.

“No one is leaving here till that disgusting shithead who is responsible comes out.” No one had really seen Corporal Levi like that, the atmosphere changed so bad that even Mike felt it without sniffing anything. ‘I said no trouble...cause I’m afraid of this.’

Everyone now started to back away and look towards the guy who was trying to hide in the middle between the scouts. Y/n quickly noticed that it was one of the main people in the scouts that really was bothering her and came to the conclusion after seeing his fearful face that he was the culprit indeed.

Levi didn’t need to guess who it was and went walking slowly, straight up to him. “Was it...You.” Now, Y/n was sure that guy might have probably taken a real shit right now. He started sweating so badly and then got to the floor. “I-I’m so sorry Corporal!!! I mean to..!” Levi looked down at him with such disgust. “You are indeed pathetic. I did notice your shitty behaviour lately. But to go this far...doing that to another comrade? No. You are no longer a trustworthy scout, let alone a decent citizen and I’m officially taking you out of the whole Training Corps.”

The tension was so high, that everyone backed away from Levi and the bully, who really started this whole problem. Y/n just stood there with sadness and confusion. Seems like she probably will never know why she was the one picked on, like always.

—

After a long day, Y/n was called into Levi’s office during the evening. She went over there and inside his office. Levi noticed immediately the sadness in her eyes and the change in her vibe. He wondered why, why was she still upset? Did they bother her afterwards? He was about to ask when.

“Why did you do that for me? Was it for the good of the scouts to remove someone who doesn’t collaborate with others or....was it for me?” With that last word, she looked up with tears in her eyes that made her eyes come out looking more beautiful than ever. He stood in front of her now, and slowly, gently grabbing her hand. He looked at her with a lot of affection this time. “Idiot. It was because I care for you.” Levi said it so quietly, as if he just wanted Y/n to hear it and no one else even though they were both alone in his office. But, he said it in a way that made him blush just slightly, he was definitely not used to talking in a way to make someone acknowledge how he cares for them but also....for someone who he seemed to like.

“I was from there too you know.” He said suddenly, “So I understand.” Levi was now softly wiping the tears that rolled down Y/n’s cheeks. Levi didn’t need to say more, nothing more. Just that look in his eyes and the feeling that they are both feeling right now. That Unknown feeling was reassuring and what Y/n only needed. Nothing else. Y/n then brought her arms around Levi’s shoulders and hugged him, she wanted to feel his warmth on this cold winter night and comfort for her heart that she never knew she needed till tonight. Levi, hugged her back tightly with affection around her waist, also needing some more warmth that night and they stood there, hugging each other while outside his office window, it started to finally snow.

note: okay, I’m glad to have posted this! I’m not sure if anyone will read it or like it but I felt the sudden urge to post it and it was on my mind lately! I’m also finally done with uni and taking a break, so I decided to come back to post this and see whoever wants to read it and enjoy it. The world is crazy atm and I hope whoever reads this gives themselves a break once in a while <3