#if it wasn't for all the nice and supportive and encouraging comments and interactions

[silawastaken]

CRYING AND SCREAMING...

10k hits??? I'm going to actually explode

This is my second fic to get this popular, but it took months after finishing it for the blonde dazai au to get anywhere near this

Considering the soulmate au is still ongoing, this is absolutely insane

I'm so grateful to everyone who's been reading, this really did start off as a self indulgent idea that I wasn't sure I was ever going to follow through with and now I have actual friends so :D crazy what fanfic can get you huh

I don't know if this is actually as big of a deal as I'm making it, but I'm so happy and so glad that people have been liking it as much as they have

[bugs1nmybrain]

L Lawliet x Chubby!Reader NSFW

Minors Don't Interact (18+)

Warnings: NSFW, weight/body insecurities, fem-reader, chubby reader as the title suggests, disordered eating habits, reader fat-shames herself, the reader has been attempting to lose weight, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, vanilla?, finger sucking, blowjob, pussy eating, squirting, body worship themes, dom L, the reader comes from a low/lower middle-class background, fingering, L is probably a little out of character (he's just more of a sweetheart than canon L), L might be triggering? He tries to be nice to the reader about eating but may come across as inconsiderate?, Misa is mentioned once, L doesn't really know how to be emotionally supportive but he's trying his best!!!, cheesy ending

I kind of had a hard time getting through this prompt because I struggle a lot with weight and disordered eating. It was meant as a self-affirming fic but the first half of this was triggering for me to write. I hope it's good.

Buying this stupid scale was probably the worst decision you could've made for yourself. In your mind, you assumed that getting one would encourage you to lose weight and that you could document what eating and exercise habits helped you lose more. You were excited, even, but as soon as you stepped on it your excitement turned into hate.

It wasn't like you weren't trying. You've read as many articles as you could on what diets would give you the quickest results. You've also tried exercising plenty. On the worst days, you didn't eat much at all. However, it seemed like no matter what your efforts were, you had little success. It was unfair. You couldn't help but feel envious of girls in the mall who would wear outfits you could never picture yourself in. Being at the beach made you furious as well. It was like you'd never be enough, never like them.

Your phone buzzed with a text from L. He was requesting your company for dinner at his current residence. L, as distant as he seemed, was very fond of you. He was a very busy guy, so the time between you two was limited, but he did indeed try to put in an effort to spend as much time together as he could squeeze in. Meals were often a safe time for him.

You had about an hour to be there, so you tried to prepare a nice outfit to wear. Nothing looked good, though. It was hard finding clothes that looked good on you. You hardly found any clothes that looked proportionately correct on you. It was an endless battle.

Eventually, you gave up and settled with a black turtleneck and jeans. Watari picked you up and drove you to L's. When you arrived, you made your way through the security procedures, though you didn't have to do much as L trusted you enough to waive some of the more complicated screenings.

You walked into a beautiful dining room with a table of well-prepared offerings. A lot of it was typical dinner food, but a good portion was also sweets, as L didn't partake in normal eating habits.

L sat down at the end of the table and caught your eye as you walked in. You were embarrassed, honestly. Before dating him, you weren't used to a finer lifestyle. Coming into a fancy residence like this was beyond you. You felt out of place, but L made you feel at home in the unfamiliar atmosphere. He gave you a gentle smile as you sat down on the chair to his left.

"You look beautiful," he comments with an inviting impression.

"You think so? I thought this was a little plain-looking."

"I suppose it's a casual outfit, but nonetheless, you look lovely in it," he beams.

"Thank you," you blush in response.

"Of course. Are you hungry?"

Urg. You supposed by definition, you were. You hadn't had much to eat today other than your three cups of coffee and a very light breakfast. You hated questions like this. You simply nodded, feeling torn.

"Please, help yourself. I made sure to acquire your favorites."

This was awful, and you felt incredibly uncomfortable. You didn't want to disappoint or sadden him. L clearly put in effort for this, but you were so afraid of gaining weight. There was a lot of food, and you assumed he expected you to be generous with your portions.

You did what you could and took what you thought was enough food to not upset him but also not too much that you felt like a glutton. Even with this, though, you felt like you took too much (in reality, you didn't take enough).

The food was great, meals with L never failed to impress.

"Would you like dessert, love?"

Oh no.

You expected it, given L. He absolutely loved sharing sweets with you and it was one of the ways he knew how to display care for you. The treats were always delicious, and you were grateful, but the fact that a single slice of cake had so many calories drove you nuts. You felt a tad jealous of L. He manages to stay small despite his horrendous diet. It wasn't his fault, he simply had a very different metabolism than you did, but it was unfair. He could eat ten folds of the amount you eat and not gain a thing. When you only spent a day or so eating full meals, you put on weight.

L notices your hesitation and is puzzled about what to say. He's not an idiot and has noticed since he first started dating you that you had a complicated relationship with eating and food. He could tell by the way you poked around at your food and was very light on your portions that you were clearly scared to eat much. He never once found you unattractive and even found your plump features very endearing. He understood why you were insecure, but he only wished he could somehow assure you of your worth.

Knowing you were going to stall, L takes it upon himself to cut you a slice of strawberry cake and places it down in front of you, with a soft, "here."

You smile at him. His small attempts to make you happy were cute, and you did appreciate it. The cake in front of you looked scary, but you wanted to be grateful and make him happy, so you gave up.

"It's tasty isn't it?" He remarks with a mouthful of cake, himself. As a prestige of a background L came from, he had no sense of manners it seemed.

"Mhm."

Again, you were poking around. L felt a little frustrated by this. He wasn't upset about waste, ungratefulness, or anything like that, he was just disheartened that you were so hesitant to nourish yourself. Sure, cake may not be the most nourishing thing, but its mental effects are rewarding. He wanted you to be able to enjoy things like a nice meal without feeling ashamed of yourself. It's why he encouraged you to eat with him often, he wanted to give you a sense of comfort and connection that could come from eating. But every time you seemed unsettled. It made him feel sorry.

"Do you not like it? Would you like a different flavor?"

"Oh, no! It's great, I guess I'm just a bit full," you assure him.

L doubted it, given the amount you put on your plate.

"I'm sorry," you say with guilt.

"I'm not upset with you, love. I suppose I'm just worried for you. I've noticed that when we've had meals together you make your portions rather small. I hardly think that was enough to make you feel "full""

You kind of hated this. Who was he to assume how much you needed to eat? Why did it have to matter?

"I'm trying to lose weight."

"Why?"

"I'm not very happy with myself. I don't feel attractive, and I see other girls, like Misa Amane, who are very small. They get to wear as much or as little as they want and they're always beautiful. I feel like no matter what, I'm always ugly, and fat."

L didn't really know how to handle this, because in his eyes you're beyond beautiful. He didn't really understand why you felt like you weren't. He thought that he always made it apparent to you that he saw you as gorgeous. It was like the meals though. Sometimes no matter how much affirmation he tried to give you, you were never satisfied.

He noticed it when you'd pull down on your shirts to conceal your stomach. When you and he made love, you insisted on keeping the lights completely off. You'd send him pictures of you in very pretty outfits, but when you'd see him in person later that day, you were in something much more conservative. In a way, it broke his heart.

"I know that I can't say anything that will change your mind about this. It makes me sad to know you think of yourself in such a negative way because I've never thought any of those things about you. I suppose my opinion doesn't mean much, but comparing yourself to models like Misa Amane isn't a fair assessment. Those kind of women are paid for being underweight. Having a fuller figure doesn't make you any less attractive and if anything, it makes you incredibly adorable to me. You look like yourself, which is more than beautiful."

In a sense L was right to say he couldn't exactly change your opinion about yourself, but his reassurance right now, in this moment, felt comforting. You did worry that he didn't see you as pretty or somehow was only with you out of pity.

"You know, I'm no model myself," L says, cocking his head to the side. "On the opposite end, I'm underweight and very nimble. I'm also pale and my hair is disheveled. Some have also said my eyes are creepy."

"You're cute though!" You giggle and gush within milliseconds. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever known anyone who looks like you. You're so handsome and pretty and cute and adorable,"-

"So who's to say you aren't those exact same things? Both of us have imperfections. It's abundantly clear you love me for mine, so believe me when I say that yours are just as desirable to me. I love you as you are, Y/N."

His loving words offer you peace of mind at the moment. Sure, you weren't as thin as you wished you were, but knowing he didn't see you less than made you feel a little more content. You glance at him lovingly, and L reaches his hand under the table to find yours.

"I love you," L assures again.

You blush, "I love you too."

L hums and rubs your hand with his thumb. "May I kiss you?"

You giggle at his request, with a complete change of mood to what you felt previously. "Yes, of course."

L leans in to kiss your lips tenderly, holding the side of your neck with the hand that wasn't holding yours. You turn pink and flustered, to much of L's own pleasure. As your kiss starts out light and gentle, you let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his shoulders, closing him into a warmer embrace. Heated tension forms between both of you, but before it can get too heavy L pulls away.

"There's cameras in here."

"Oh," you comment in embarrassment.

"Here," L takes your hand before standing up, encouraging you to as well. "Come this way."

You followed L, with your hand in his.

"The table still has food on it," you say worryingly.

"That's Watari's job. Don't worry about it. Just follow me, alright?"

L guides you up the elevator to a higher floor. When the doors open, you're led to a spacious room that is cleaned and decorated nicely. L closes the door behind you and quickly turns his attention back to you with a soft smile.

"I missed you today while I was working," he says as he begins kissing the nape of your neck.

You smile uncontrollably as you tell him, "I did too. I couldn't wait to see you."

"Mm..that makes me happy to hear."

L kisses your neck lovingly before gesturing you to follow him to the bed. He sits you down and hovers over you as he pulls your lips in for another kiss, this time full of more hunger and adoration. You bring your hands down to his waist band and tug at the button to his jeans, zipping them down.

"Can I see you?" L asks.

"Hm?"

"May I take off your clothes, first?"

"Oh.."you blush hesitantly.

"Here, let me help you."

L pulls your turtleneck over your head and quickly follows with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them off. You're now only left in your bra and panties, and L can't keep his gaze off of you for a second.

"I'm bloated from eating," you say sheepishly.

"Nonsense," L kisses down your chest and places a hand on your stomach. His fingers sink into your plush skin and you clam up. "Please don't feel self-conscious, love. Allow me the privilege of appreciating your beauty."

L kisses you again and you continue your attempts toward his crotch. You pull his pants down, revealing his arousal through his underwear. Blushing, you grope his cock among the clothing, producing a pleasant hum from his chest. After a couple of strokes, you take his underwear off, dragging them down his legs. His penis stands erect with a flushed pink tip.

"Do you see what you do to me?" he remarks, stroking your face with his fingers, guiding them to your lips. You stick your tongue out, allowing L to slowly insert his fingers into your mouth. His cock twitches in excitement as you suck on his spider-like fingers gently. He takes them out to tuck your hair behind your hair. You assume responsibility to start stroking his bare cock, glancing at it for a bit. His penis is very pretty. Longish, maybe a little over 5 and a half inches, but slender. Not slender in the sense that there's no sense of filling, but it matches the rest of his thin anatomy. It's also pale and flushed pink, with not many veins.

"Mmm.." he moans as you stroke him. You tease his glands a little before taking him in your mouth. You drag your mouth along his shaft, eliciting a sigh from him. You tease and lick along his penis to the point that he needs to reach his hand to cover his mouth in order to conceal his noises. Who would've figured that the deadpan detective L would be such a responsive lover?

"Love, please.." you continue bobbing your mouth on him and look up at him for a moment. Your pretty eyes send a shock through him and he pulls his cock out of your mouth, knowing full well that he'll cum if this keeps going. And he surely was not finished with you.

He kneels in between your legs and kisses the inner flesh of your thick thighs. L pulls your panties down your legs and presses his finger up to his lips, enamored by your beautiful cunt. He presses his fingers at the bottom of your thick thighs and spreads your folds apart. He looks at your wetness for a moment and then proceeds to sink his face into your arousal.

"Mmfph!~"

Your moans escape uncontrollably as L begins sucking on your clit. His mouth produces wet and messy noises as he licks your pussy, following his tongue up and down before continuing to suck on your clitoris. He raises his hand to insert two fingers in your cunt as he eats you out. L makes sure to curl them perfectly, rubbing along your g-spot. The simultaneous stimulation to both areas causes a surprisingly quick build-up.

You grip L's hair, which he takes as a sign to attack your pussy even more intensively. His tongue flicks rapidly up and down your clit and he fingers you faster, causing you to grind on his face. L can feel your orgasm approaching by the way your insides were contracting on his fingers. He hums on your clit, giving it more vibration as you cum on his face with a high-pitched whine. Fluid sprays on L's face unexpectedly, shocking both you and him.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know that would happen. I didn't think I had to use the restroom.."

L smells the fluid on his finger for a bit before commenting, "This doesn't smell like urine to me," and he laughs cockily. "No need to be embarrassed, darling."

L wipes his face off with an article of clothing that was tossed on the floor and comes up to kiss you again. He pulls you to rest on the bed facing him. He reaches behind to grab your ass, squeezing your plump features with his hands.

"You're gorgeous."

You want to thank him, but instead keep kissing his lips with vigor. L moves on top of you and removes your bra. He kisses down your breasts, nipping them with his mouth briefly to then kiss your stomach, groping the plushy flesh. You tense up a little but relax in the notion that he's doing it out of desire, not to insult you. He comes back up to kiss you once again and pushes his pelvis between your thighs.

You tug at his shirt, the only article of clothing separating the two of you. He grunts a little and hesitates. "You know I'm shy about my torso."

"I know, but we're both supposed to be embracing each other right? It's unfair for you to have me all naked and you to be covered."

"Yes, that's correct. I apologize."

L allows you to take his shirt off, exposing his thin figure in its entirety. You kiss his neck, causing him to whimper.

"Y/N, I need you so badly right now.."

"I'm yours. Please.."

L kisses your temple and continues by taking his penis to tease along your folds. He sinks his cock into your warm and soft pussy, and the both of you immediately moan at the pleasure. L begins to thrust into your warmth with a slight build-up. The pace eventually grows into a desperate and starving yearning. He loves you as if he hasn't for ages (he did about three nights ago) and fills you to perfection.

"Y/N..love, you're so perfect..."

You gasp in pleasure as he rubs your g-spot perfectly and grip his back for comfort. You pull him into kiss you as you fuck each other, the both of you filling the room with filthy sounds. It was a good thing the room was sound-proof.

"I love you, L.."

"I know, baby. I love you..you know that right?" He says in your ear, whispering between pants while he rests his forehead on yours. L's eyes are fixated on the way your body moves to his thrusts, and he feels a sense of pride knowing that he's the only one who's able to see you like this.

"Mhm!" L fucks you deeper, his cockhead brushing your cervix. Your warm, wet walls continue to clamp on him and he knows he's not going to last very long. He presses his body closer to yours, relishing in your warm body against his.

"Darling...I'm close.."

"That's ok, please. Inside."

L's hips thrust forward for a little longer, his orgasm building. He finally comes undone and releases his loads inside of you, with a strung-out moan as he does so.

You grab around him and pull him close for comfort as he rests on top of you, cock still inside.

"Thank you.." you say pleasantly, more than happy with the affection you had received.

"Thanking me isn't necessary. You know how much I adore making love with you."

You blush and laugh in response. L eventually pulls out and rests beside you, wrapping his legs around you as he attempts to mimic his sitting position in a cuddle form. The both of you enjoy the presence of each other's bodies and hold each other as close as possible.

"Please never doubt yourself, Y/N. You're more than worthy and more than beautiful."

"Okay. I think I believe you, I'll try to," you hum and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."

"As do I, Y/N."

[wikiangela]

mushy end of year post alert lol

so, bc it's the end of the year, over the last few days I've been just thinking about this year which just overall sucked, but tumblr and writing have been the only things bringing me joy and I'm just so grateful to be here

I've technically been in the 911 fandom since February/March 2021 (I binged the show and caught up between Buck begins and jinxed haha), but it's only this year that I actually got over my tagging anxiety and overthinking, and worrying about being annoying, and started tagging people and interacting more, and started just actually being here and not just lurking lol

I've been writing buddie since March 2021 too, just much less than now, bc I was in my sambucky era haha - but then I did fictober2022, and s6 was airing at the time so I was back in buddie mindset, and I wrote like half of the prompts for them - and then as I was finishing my sambucky 150k fic, I got the idea for the buddie holiday fic, which I started posting in December last year. instantly the reception of that fic was more than anything else before, it's still mind-blowing, and then I kept writing buddie, and now I can't and don't want to stop haha

tbh it's been kinda insane and when I think about it too hard and too long it gets overwhelming, but the love on all my fics, so many nice comments, it's been crazy! and to add to that the way my follower count grew this year, not to mention user subscribers on Ao3 is just 🤯🤯🤯 I'm still always surprised that more than one person enjoys my fics so every time I look at my stats I'm just shocked (that one person being me tbh, I started to really love my fics this year and I reread them all the time 😂 which is another great thing that's changed somehow, bc I used to never look back at my fics haha)

and above all, I met so many amazing people, and whether we talked once, talk from time to time, or just interact in tags/notes, I appreciate all of you so much ❤️ I'm still shy and introverted and don't start a lot of convos and can't keep up a convo to save my life but I always love talking to everyone ❤️😂

I've been in many fandoms over the years but 911 fandom has been the best experience for me - it might just be my little bubble over here on tumblr but either way, I love it, and I love all my mutuals and everyone who follows me, and it's just been a really fun year over here on this hellsite, and tbh it might be the only thing keeping me from breaking down atm lol - this is the first fandom where I truly feel like I belong, however silly it might sound haha

the amount of support on my fics, and the encouragement, all the comments, it's been truly unlike anything else in any fandom I've experienced, and it's been so motivating to keep writing too ❤️ I honestly don't think I'd write as much as I did this year if it wasn't for y'all

so @ all my mutuals and followers, thank you so much for making my year so much better by just being my pocket friends haha <3 i love you all <3

[dejundary]

I wanna get in on this convo! I'm on mobile so I may jump around among the various questions, hope that's OK:))

I was a long time lurker on Tumblr (reading blogs extensively without an account) and joined properly in 2022. Other than that I was (and still am) a heavy instagram user.

When I first joined, my approach to interacting with gifs, fanart, etc was to "like many, reblog a few". If I enjoyed something, I liked it. If I REALLY enjoyed it, I reblogged it.

I would see the posts encouraging people to reblog more stuff and thought that I was doing that pretty well; maybe I would try to reblog a bit more generously, but I WAS reblogging stuff, so I thought it was fine. Until one day, another user told me that my whole approach was not the traditional or intended usage model for tumblr. The traditional model, they told me, is to reblog everything you enjoy, and use likes only for auxiliary stuff like personal posts, etc.

This was totally news to me! I had SEEN all those posts pushing people to reblog stuff, and completely thought I was doing as I should, until that person explained to me that the ask was not just to reblog MORE stuff but to use a completely different model of interaction. It was super eye-opening, and I've been reblogging everything I enjoy ever since. I now use likes very rarely.

I think my original approach was informed by the model set out by other social media. For example, on Instagram you primarily like posts, and occasionally share to your story. Its quite similar on Facebook, my first social media. You can also comment on both of those platforms, which is a nice in-between that Tumblr doesnt really have (since use of Replies is not normalized at all). Reblogging posts - putting them onto my own personal blog and into others' feeds - felt like a bolder social interaction than I was used to, and I was hesitant to do it. It wasn't until I practiced with it, and started using the queue, that I stopped feeling weird about reblogging tons of stuff.

To be fair, the design of Tumblr's interface also appears to support the "like many, reblog a few" approach. It takes more steps to reblog a post than like it, which makes it a costlier interaction, which (in good interface design) should imply that it's meant to be a less frequent interaction. Traditionally this is something Tumblr has overcome through a strong culture of reblogging. Now, I think with so many people coming from other sites, the combination of preformed expectations and misleading interface design has been slowly winning out.

As a creator myself, I cherish reblogs, ESPECIALLY ones with tags or comments. I try to leave positivity in the tags whenever I have the energy. I don't tend to reply to tags or comments on my own stuff, bc like prev said, there's kind of no non-awkward way to do this on Tumblr. I just assume that people know how much I love their tags, especially when I'm able to pay it back by visiting their blog and reblogging some stuff from them!!

In conclusion! Long live the reblog, it's what makes Tumblr the community that it is and I will keep doing it forever <3

I Have a (few) question(s) for Exol.

I'm genuinely curious as to the answers, so if you see this could you please do me the favour of signal boosting this so it reaches more people?

I see posts circulating now and again about lack of interaction on fandom creation posts. No one reblogs. No one comments. But I never see anyone asking why. Is it simply a matter of being in the middle of an etiquette shift? Is it crossplanted members of social media communities having different social norms? Has the way people use Tumblr shifted? Speculation only goes so far so to better understand what I'd like to know is the following:

How long have you been on Tumblr? Any fandom not just Exo.

What is your take on fan created works on Tumblr and interacting with them?

Do you have a process for what goes on your blog? How do you find most of the posts you reblog? Through the dash? Through the tags?

Do you spend time on other platforms? Have you in the past?

How do you interact with fan creations on these other platforms? Do you like comment or share? Do you re-tweet? Etc.

When was the last fic of any length (drabble and blurbs and headcanons/reactions included) you read? Last time you saw fanart (including edits and moodboards and graphics) you enjoyed?

Did you reblog it?

If yes you did reblog did you say anything about it? Simple or otherwise? Leave a gif underneath that expressed how you felt? Put a comment in the tags? Left an emoji? Etc.

If you didn't leave commentary was there a reason? Do you feel like you start to repeat yourself when commenting? Do you think there's nothing to say? Were you following the adage if you cant say something nice dont say anything at all? Other reasons?

If no you did not reblog why? Is there a specific reason? Did you not like it and not want to say? Does it not fit your blog? Was it not a length or level of skill you felt warranted a reblog? Have your friends already seen it? Do you only post your own creations? Other reasons?

For our fan creators I have an extra question. Do you reply to your comments? Even if they're in the tags?

If no is there a reason?

Please take a moment and share your answers cause I'm trying to understand where things shifted from what they were before to now.

[purplemagpie]

2021 Fic Year in Review

i was tagged by @howlinchickhowl (thank you, howl 🥰🥰🥰!)

Total Number Of Completed Works: 5

Total Word Count: 73614

Fandoms I’ve Written In: shameless (us)

Looking Back, Did You Write More Fic Than You Thought You Would This Year, Less, Or About What You’d Expected?:

definitely more (i only expected to write one fic, and it wasn't even for this fandom!)

What’s Your Own Favorite Story Of The Year?:

i'm going to say Bad for Business not because it's the best but because it was the first one, and I hadn't finished writing anything in a whole year when I posted that one, so it feels special

Did You Take Any Writing Risks This Year?:

writing a 50k wip was definitely risky (especially with work draining half my energy) but i'm glad i did it

Do You Have Any Fanfic Or Profic Goals For The New Year?:

i kinda want to write "goodnight fics"? y'know, those fluff and angst 10-15k fics that you can read before going to sleep without fucking up your sleeping schedule. Ian the Friendly Ghost is me trying to do that 🖤✨

Most Popular Story Of The Year?:

definitely weaver of fate. i was reaaally unsure about posting that story (thought maybe people would find seer mickey silly or wouldn't vibe with the soulmate or coffee shop aspects of it) but then the response was??? absolutely amazing. 😭💙

Story Of Mine Most Under-Appreciated By The Universe, In My Opinion:

i think this fandom appreciates things a lot, honestly? there's just constant support and encouragement and enthusiasm so i don't think "under-appreciated" is the right word. if i simply go by kudos/comments, then it would be Mutually Beneficial, but again--i got really lovely comments, so 🥰

Most Fun Story To Write:

maybe grow some guts? it was meant to be short and silly and fun, and it was!

Most Unintentionally Telling Story:

hmm, i don't know how unintentional it was, but weaver of fate. there's a lot of me in there beyond, y'know. my taste in music 😅. types of relationships and food and choice/fate and a lot of the less fun stuff, too

Biggest Disappointment:

all the fics i didn't write, man. so many. my "half-baked ideas" folder has, like, ten files, including a prison au (🧡) called young and hostile that i started back in june

Biggest Surprise:

that i somehow started writing fantasy aus and couldn't stop??? i had only ever written one before (good omens au for malec) and it's my only unfinished story, so it was a nice surprise to see that i can apparently write fantasy (which is a relief, considering it's my favorite genre)

My Favorite Part Of Fandom This Year:

okay so i tried to think of just one thing but i can't. it's the fandom as a whole, is the thing. i've only been around since may but everyone in this corner is so nice and encouraging and unhinged (🖤) that it feels like the easiest thing in the world to join the community (even for someone like me who's bad at interacting and stuff!)

if you see this and you write, you're tagged. dems the rules 😌💛💫

[kmclaude]

Your recent ideation is giving me all the writing motivation, but I have a dilemma. How do you kill your shame in order to write peak, unbridled debauchery? And how do you write said debauchery when you're an irl prude with no lived experience to pull from? Totally normal questions - asking for a friend. :-)

but also idk i don't have shame in art and fiction? this is kinda like the guilt ask i gotta answer but like....well, i feel not shame but more like an understanding that others will misrepresent me and my art and possibly make it a big deal or treat me and others badly so the end result is a similar like state of being, an anticipation of rejection, so i guess they're something of kissing cousins? anyway...

honestly? you kill it with support. with a good environment. i started creating in fandom in the aughts in a small subsection of HP fandom -- voldemort/harry otp 5eva ayyyyyy -- where we all knew we were weirdos so like....you embraced it. you uplifted. you encouraged. but also fandom was not mainstream then. be default you're a fucking weirdo. you and like Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons are in the same circle of the Venn Diagram of society. so like....idk, there was an embracing of that. doesn't mean there wasn't the same bullshittery but like....you're all at the same loser's table in the lunchroom you know? and that gives a lot of just....freedom. it's freedom! also the 'net was a lot more weird. so like....i got to ~grow~ in that in my teens when you're also like....weird lmao but i share that to say, you know, i had a super uplifting environment and i got feedback (my biggest following was probably on deviantart which like has a commenting system! you can TALK and replies are ENCOURAGED and you have a hub of interaction!). and i got to feel like my contributions to things mattered which is key! so in short, idk, a huge part is find or make spaces you can feel supported -- even if you're your support! and like yo i've been there, i was there (but like gotta submit to the ordeal of being known and sharing with others to get that reciprocity.) and hey that might mean close friends to share things with, that might mean your own little website super anonymously (even the feeling of throwing things out into the void is nice), that might mean keeping a journal to just go whole hog wild in! whatever can be your space.

also idk stab your belly with a couple CCs of boy juice and enjoy advanced puberty and you'll enter the debauched zone :)

as for being a prude with no irl experience -- bro i didn't fuck until my mid-20s and i still managed to write a lotta messed up stuff more than a decade before that so don't sweat not having the XP -- it's fiction. go wild. porn isn't real. it's all a fantasy. writing is a fantasy too. if that's too daunting -- go find folks with XP and learn from them. by which i mean -- so OK, there used to be (still is?) a guide from a now deceased gay man online who basically was like HERE'S HOW TO WRITE GAY SEX and all the ins and outs of realistically things to know. and honestly even if you're not here to have a realistic time you're here for a good time its still a good read of background knowledge to have if you don't have a penis and regularly engage in anal. go on reddit, there's so much random info about the most niche things.

But also...

use your imagination and who cares if you're wrong nobody reads playboy for the fucking articles you know? indulge! live a little! king cake season may be only a few weeks long but kink cake season is forever!!!!!

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Witchy stuff! Disclaimer: I am not a witch so please do not take my theory of theory seriously. This has been taken off first page of Google, which is where I did my research. First ironstrange x reader interaction & tony being sweet and stephen radiating wife energy.

fun fact: the moodboards are just chapter spoilers without context.

Whatever protection spell the book had, it was nuclear. Burn cream didn't do much in terms of numbing the pain; I had to wear gloves throughout my shift at the café, self-conscious about the skin peeling off my palms and the light, sensitive fingertips. Saying that the day was hellish would have been too kind.

My spirits were briefly lifted when one of my favourite mad scientists walked in, nose buried in a StarkPad - his chattier, more confident friend nowhere to be seen. Doctor Bruce Banner lifted his eyes from his work only to give a brief, polite smile and mumble his order, immediately resuming the poking of the screen.

"You forgot something last time," I couldn't suppress the grin. Sometimes routine was nice, comfortable. The napkin with unintelligible scribbles and formulas in my hand was transferred to Banner's pocket with a shy smile and a reddish tint to his cheeks, as if he didn't find himself in this very situation more often than not. "Is Mr. Stark okay?" I voiced my concerns, having noticed the recent, acute absence of the rowdy man in the café. Dr. Banner rarely came here alone and it was more of a telling exception than anything.

"Oh, Tony? Yes, he's fine," the scientist nodded absentmindedly. "He's on a small vacation with his boyfriend," the last part was said with puzzlement and incredulity and I had to remind myself that a forty-something scientist was unlikely to possess at least a halfway decent gaydar. I mean, I would have eaten my shoe if Tony Stark was 100% straight.

The fact that Tony having a boyfriend surprised Dr. Banner, who appeared to be one of Mr. Stark's best friends, was quite funny to me. "Good for him, he deserves it after saving the world, like, a bajillion times," I replied honestly, attempting to hide my good-natured snicker at Banner's obliviousness. Scientists, they just are a different breed, man.

The perplexion melted off Banner's face, leaving only supportive contentment. "That is correct," he nodded confidently, exchanging a bill for his matcha. "Thank you. And, uh, congrats on your new job," he added with another one of his not-quite shy smiles.

My cheerfulness vacated the premises shortly afterwards as I struggled to keep up with the endless stream of customers all the while my hands throbbed and burned under the nitrile gloves. I was ready to call it a day and just tell Jeremy I had an accident, but my pride wouldn't let me. I arrived at Odette's feeling less than stellar, running purely on spite and several cups of espresso.

It went about as good as expected, select few customers growing clouds over their heads at the slow pace I was assembling their orders: the fact that even witches had Karens of their kind was a fact that I found both amusing and alarming. It wasn't particular comfortable, knowing that I, or any other wait staff, was always at risk of being cursed for bringing them the wrong kind of cake or messing up their white suburban mom coffee.

"You could have asked, you know," Odette's slow drawl startled me out of the trance I'd put myself in to avoid focusing on the discomfort. "Come here, girl, I'll take care of it."

My face heated up immediately as I realized the tender skin of my grubby little hands was on full display. Odette must've put two and two together, seeing my sins written all over my scarred hands and my guilty face. Not wanting to invoke a negative reaction and get on her scary bad side, I let myself obediently trot into her office.

"I, uh," the eloquence of my speech - spectacular. I was ready to fall through the floor out of of shame.

"It happens sometimes," a round jar of what looked like buckwheat honey landed on the table. Odette massaged the thick gel into my palms with gentle circular motions, shushing my hums of pain in-between. "The book called for me in the same way it called to you. The only difference, it was my grandmother's at the time so the protection wards did not go off because I was family." My eyebrows rose at the calm in Odette's voice. Composed as ever, the witch looked more amused than upset by my little snooping stint.

The pain in my hands disappeared completely, a cool sensation I could only describe as minty enveloping them and spreading throughout my body. The chill was pleasant - I hadn't even realized my body had been running on higher-than-usual temperatures ever since I touched the book. Those protection wards Odette spoke of, they really packed a punch!

"I will teach you," she must've interpreted my stunned silence as curiosity, having made up her own mind in the seconds I was basking in my newfound relief. "We'll start slow. The transition from the material world into the spiritual isn't easy," Odette warned, locking her fingers, her magnetic eyes commandeering mine for utmost attention. "But it is incredibly rewarding. If you follow the rules, you will prosper. Our kind isn't plentiful these days, with people praying to gods that condone greed and selfishness," her lip curled in distaste. "Each one of us can make a large difference in this world. The opportunities you have been given need to be taken seriously."

My lip caught between my teeth as I mulled over the words my boss spoke with so my concern and conviction. Nothing in her speech sounded amiss; sure as she was, I was still mercifully given a choice. Odette's aura, that used to seem suffocating and dense, grew around me into a non-physical hug, a comfort akin to a mother supporting her child taking their first steps.

I eyed the sixty-something year-old, tall, imposing woman, scanning her for any deceitfulness, exhilaration and wariness sitting on my shoulders and whispering into my ears. True to myself, I gave into the side that craved and lived for adventure. "I would love to learn," hoping my voice conveyed the excitement and hopefulness of being a part of something special.

Odette smiled kindly. "I knew that," with a chuckle to herself, she reached into a set of drawers and extracted a few worn, plain notebooks. "Homework," the wink she threw at me instantly took ten years off her face. I couldn't even bring myself to sigh, only the sludge still covering my palms preventing me from making grabby hands in the direction of new information.

The bell rang before I could make another comment and I was let go with the instructions to wash my hands - and that's exactly what I did, having noted the short Asian man impatiently tapping his foot next to the front desk.

The man's name was Wong and he was the sole reason for my uncontrollable flares of temper during my work hours at the bodega. Odette herself avoided him like the plague, and for a good reason: his attitude was nothing short of conceited, as if the weird robes that he wore were some kind of a hall-pass to be a demanding asshole when it came to the store's wares.

Wong could spend up to forty minutes inspecting the baggies containing herbs and other knick-knacks, meticulously picking out what he considered best and curtly insulting the items he found to be lacking in quality. I was made aware he belonged to some sort of a sect or a cult of honest-to-god wizards; as if him looking like a worker of the Ministry of Magic didn't make that fact obvious. I was unpleasantly surprised at the fact that even witches, much like doctors, had elitist pricks among their kind - and Odette had the audacity to simply vanish whenever one of those robed people set foot in the shop, leaving me to use all my mental strength to try and not strangle the wannabe Karens.

I was willing to bet my favourite star-patterned scarf that Wong hexed the waiters who made him wait longer that he considered appropriate. I just knew it.

The anger, the frustration and at times, blind, total rage came in useful - and that was a surprise to me. According to Odette's notebooks, everyone had the potential to master magick - to an extent, each individual's threshold was, well, individual - but the more a witch was in tune with her emotions, her feelings, the higher the success rate of her spells grew.

The notebooks contained enough information for me to understand that Odette was considered a High Priestess (not to be confused with Head of the Coven - not all witches wanted to be a part of those) and the amount of power she held was quite impressive. No, she couldn't turn back time, she couldn't raise the dead; the people she helped and healed were, oftentimes, made well at the expense of her own life energy. It was an endless cycle of emptying a glass and refilling it back up. The deities lended a hand with that.

Some time after I'd gone through the theory, Odette encouraged me to choose a direction I was to study in depth; much like her, I was interested in the defensive rather than the offensive. Healing spells, protection wards and the occasional light hex to deter enemies from reoffending: I was disappointed but not surprised to learn the fact that curses and serious harm done to other people quite often backfired, harming the caster themselves as well as their victim.

I had always believed in karma, to a healthy extent, but these days I was that much more aware of how I treated those around me. That's not to say I became a pushover - I simply chose to smile rather than frown at the world and replaced my longing and envy with a sense of gratitude towards the things I already possessed. Just like Odette had said, layering the spiritual values over my material, earthly ones wasn't easy - it was hard work, and what prevented me from stopping when I felt exhausted was that it actually paid off.

As I got ready to cast my first serious spell, I ran through a mental checklist of things I developed - of sorts. Positive vibes only. Having vengeful intentions when warding off potential harm-doers was not only dangerous, it was counterproductive. Intentions mattered the most when casting a spell and I could end up killing all the innocent, stray cats in the area instead of making a burglar choose the neighbouring building some five months down the line.

The spell, I considered to be a success. The atmosphere in my home lightened, the dingy walls of my rental started radiating comfort and safety I hadn't felt since moving out of my parents' home. A slight tiredness persisted for a few days after the last candle burned out; Odette reassured that it was perfectly normal as I was a baby witch and my energy channels were adapting, growing to accommodate my newfound awareness and flow of cosmic energies that I was training to harness.

Next on my list was a personal protection charm, an antique silver locket adorned with stars I had scavenged in a local pawn shop. Odette had given me instructions on how to cleanse potential magical conductors: the amount of rings and jewelry she wore directly correlated to the power of a singular spell she could cast. There was a fine hairline between charging your accessories and letting them drain you and I learned to walk South of it the hard way, but as all learning processes go, eventually I found my middle ground and was successful.

My daily routine grew small rituals like the forest trees grew moss. Slow and steady, I was transitioning from a curious baby witch into a self-sufficient practitioner of magic. Sounds crazy, I know, coming from someone who could barely believe into aliens until Thor himself had walked into the coffee shop and ordered a latte, but as all things do in life - I changed.

Working the morning shift allowed me to discreetly place a few of the good-luck charms I had made during my most recent creative stint. While they didn't have a direct effect on the customers or their tipping habits, the atmosphere on the cafe's premises had lightened enough that even Jeremy's usually sour face tipped more towards neutral these days.

The smile blossomed on my face without effort as I caught the tell-tale bespoke suit and sunglasses of the man waltzing through the doors of the café as if he owned the place. "Nice to see you, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your vacation?" I asked the smirking man, giving a respectful once-over to the tall, lithe man holding onto his shoulder.

"It's Tony," the happiness was radiating off him in waves. "Missed my favourite coffee shop and the world's nicest barista," he winked at me, causing the man behind him snort, steely blue eyes studying me in turn. "Had to introduce my two favourite people," the engineer took a step back, parting his arms with a flourish gesture. "Stephen, Starlight. Starlight, Stephen," he spoke before rattling off his usual order. And a cake on top.

I gave an amused grin to the man obviously humoring his significant other, as Stephen mock-bowed in my direction. "You're right, how could we be together without the approval of your favourite barista?" Stephen had his wits. I decided I definitely liked him. "Starlight? Is that a nickname or were your parents hippies?" Okay, witty bordering on rude. Was Stephen a lawyer?

"Now, now, honey," the crinkles around Tony's eyes deepened as he barked out a laugh. "No need to be jealous. We're all adults here, we can share. There's enough of me for everyone."

I rolled my eyes, easily slipping into the familiar banter. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Stark. I'm very selfish," I cocked an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side and pretending to size up Stephen. "You've outdone yourself this time," Stephen's eyebrows rose. The line between 'sizing up' and 'checking out' was so very fine and I walked it well, a quiet sort of confidence that had bloomed within me at the recent events in my life letting me be slightly bolder that allowed myself to be before. "I'd have to be the Devil myself to break up such a blessed union. My congratulations," my smirk grew into a warm smile as Tony beamed at me in return, content on showing off his most recent acquisition.

Who, by the way, looked a little bit lost. Evidently, Stephen did not expect such a degree of familiarity between me and Tony; which was, to be honest, most likely what had him returning to the establishment over and over. Come for the coffee, stay for the company. Or how was it?

The energy between Tony and Stephen was electric. There was something undoubtedly attractive, magnetic even, about the tall, steely-eyed man, something similar to Odette's charismatic pull but without the overwhelming ossification of the air around her. Even putting aside the fact that Stephen was a visually stunning person with his sculpted phisique and high, sharp cheekbones, he commandeered the attention to himself without even uttering a word. Definitely a lawyer, with how the type could hold the whole courtroom together with a single look.

The early birds on a Friday were few and in-between; the three of us chatted as the two men sipped their coffees with muted noises of joy. According to Tony, Fiji was delightful this time of the year. Oblivious to everything around him, the engineer rambled about his ventures without a care in the world as his partner looked up to him with earnest happiness and I- well, I wished I could go to Fiji, hot boyfriend optional. The weather in NYC was slowly becoming dreary: I did not look forward to winter sludge and the traffic congestions that it created.

"And I love what you've done with the interior. Those cat statues? Charming," Tony rambled, pointing out the good-luck charms I'd placed all over the café. Small knick-knacks I carefully selected to match the overall vibe of the room. "Tell Jeremy I send my regards. Appreciate the lack of paps, too," he winked at me, looking visibly relieved.

"Huh?" The rag in my hands froze. "I haven't seen a single paparazzi around here, since, like, ever," I admitted, puzzled.

"And I appreciate it. Ever since our thing became public knowledge, they've been hounding me wherever I go," the eyeroll Tony made was truly powerful. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it," and again, the engineer winked at me, apparently having made some assumptions of his own. "I won't tell if you won't."

The puzzlement persisted within me all throughout my shift. I lived in NYC, for fuck's sake, I wasn't unfamiliar with how things ran around here.

Every establishment I worked in had been swarmed with the annoying, persistent celebrity hunters at some point - and yellow press and paparazzi were, by far, the worst. Some of the greedier ones could go as far as to shove simple folk out of the way or order a cup of coffee with their camera hiding under the tablecloth to sneak in a juicy picture of a celebrity just trying to have their brunch in peace. I hated those vultures with a passion; their negative energy, their lack of morals when it came to hunting for a new scandal that would make them a few hundred bucks.

The only way to even slightly deter them was to repeatedly call the cops on them for public disturbance. I'd done it once or twice, egged on by Jerry and his worry of losing profit - after all, there were establishments known specifically for high rates of celebrity sightings and if any of the superheroes wanted to make an appearance, they would just go there for their cup of overpriced coffee and defrosted sponge cake. Our café was strictly for comfort and leisure - a rare thing me and my boss actually agreed upon.

As I said warm goodbyes to my favourite engineer and his newfound, dashing boyfriend, the cat statues stared at me in mute satisfaction, their hollow eyes radiating smugness and their immobile mouths stretched in what looked like pure, mocking mischief.

Taglist is open until the story is finished. Spare comment? 🥺

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • 02 • 03 | Charity stream disaster • 04

Kenma checked his stream overlay one last time to make sure everything was set up correctly. The streamer was only ten minutes away from his scheduled 24-hour charity stream that Akaashi had set up for him in partnership with the energy drink company, Black Sheep. For every donation Kenma receives during his live stream, all proceeds will be 100% donated to help animal shelters in need of supplies.

For once, Kenma was actually excited about a partnership. As a lover of cats and raising three rescues himself, it wasn’t particularly a hard decision for Kenma to make when Black Sheep had approached him and brought up the idea of a partnership and a charity stream campaign in conjunction with the animal shelter Black Sheep was associated with.

That was why when his sponsorship with Black Sheep had been threatened by a rumor, Kenma ultimately made a public announcement to deny the rumor and personally reached out to the PR/Influencer team at Black Sheep to talk it out with them.

Now, three minutes prior to going live, Kenma’s phone buzzed multiple times. He glanced at the lit up screen and rolled his eyes. It was Kuroo who was blowing up his phone, and Kenma had a fairly decent idea of what the texts were about.

Last week, Kuroo and Kenma had met up with Akaashi and Bokuto for their monthly dinner meet up when Akaashi had mentioned Kenma’s upcoming charity stream.

“A 24-hour stream is too easy for Kenma; the gremlin routinely stays up at least 36-hours once a week anyways.” Kuroo let out a barking laugh as he flipped the meat that was grilling in front of the four friends.

“That’s besides the point, Kuroo.” Kenma rolled his eyes and leaned back in the vinyl booth. “I’m doing a charity stream. All donations I get during the stream goes towards the animal shelter that Black Sheep partners with.” Kenma made sure to slowly emphasize the word “charity” when he explained his upcoming project.

“You know, I’ve never seen Kenma so excited about a project,” Bokuto quipped as he eagerly tucked into his meal.

“It’s for a good cause and Kozume was quick to say yes,” Akaashi added as he flashed a small smile towards the flushed streamer. Kenma still wasn’t used to hearing people praise him, no matter how often he was always featured in esports commentary and articles.

“I have three cat rescues myself, so it was a no brainer,” he mumbled, averting eye contact. He opted to push around the burnt pieces of meat with his chopsticks around his plate instead.

“Aw, you’re embarrassed that you got caught being openly excited for your next project!” Kuroo smirked and nudged his friend. It was all friendly-banter, and Kenma knew that Kuroo meant well and was extremely happy for him, but he flushed harder as Bokuto and Akaashi chimed in to cheer on their friend.

“I’m just being a nice person. Maybe you should try it some day,” Kenma shot back.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo scoffed. “I’m always a nice person.”

Akaashi and Kenma rolled their eyes at Kuroo while Bokuto let out a good-natured laugh at Kuroo’s response.

“Hey, wait! You know what you should do to make your 24-hour stream more spicy?” There was a mischievous glint in Bokuto’s eyes as he waited for his friends to respond. 

“Bokuto-san, whatever you’re thinking probably isn’t a go--” 

“Drunk 24-hour stream!” 

“Oh, nice!” Kuroo snapped his fingers and grinned his infamous Cheshire Cat smirk. Akaashi sighed and Kenma grimaced. 

"I’m not going to take ideas from two drunks. And we barely sat down to eat, how are you two this drunk already?” Kenma wrinkled his nose.

Kenma unlocked his phone and quickly scanned through his group chat. Yup. There it was: a barrage of texts from Kuroo asking Kenma if he had his booze ready followed by a spam of suggestive eye emojis by Bokuto. Kenma was quick to notice that Akaashi had purposely chosen to ignore the group texts and offered no help in diverting the suggestions.

Kenma snorted quietly at Bokuto's message as he locked his phone. He looked up at the monitor to his right and read some comments that were starting to flood in his stream chat. He gave his camera a small smile and leaned back in his chair, answering some questions that caught his attention and saying "hi" to others.

Kenma usually liked to start his stream off rather chill by interacting with his viewers. After playing his music playlist and adjusting the volume, he finally announced his agenda for the day after a few minutes.

"Today I'm partnering with Black Sheep for a charity stream. It's going to be a 24-hour stream and we're gonna spend most of the time playing some League. All donations I get will go towards helping an animal shelter which you guys know I'm all for." Kenma paused as his donation notification sounded and his text-to-speech setting began to read the donation to him and his viewers.

"meowriachi donated $25: 24-hour stream? too ezpz kodzuken"

Kenma laughed and ran a hand through his messy half-up styled hair.

"I was telling my friends about today's stream and Kuroo said the same thing. Maybe in our next collaboration we'll do a longer stream if you guys want that. We'll also be able to have more fun and do more things, too."

Kenma was smart and sneaky. He always was. Kuroo did always say he was the brains of the team back in high school when they played volleyball together. Kenma was good at analyzing situations, and because of this strength, Kenma knew when to use certain words and situations to create benefits for him and his career. This was no exception. The streamer knew Black Sheep would be moderating his stream, so now the company had slight pressure to partner with him again if there was an in demand from his fans. And this was Kodzuken we were talking about. There was no doubt Kenma knew there would already be a second sponsorship in the works.

Kenma smirked. Easy peasy stream indeed.

Kenma loved his job. He truly did. It wasn't every day someone could wake up every day and actually look forward to going to work, and for that, Kenma was thankful. He was thankful that he had the skillsets to do well in competitive gaming and that he had a knack of being able to pick up mechanics of new games so easily. He was thankful that he had a fanbase that enjoyed his commentary and sarcastic humor, and a fanbase that supported and helped him build his brand from ground up.

Kenma knew he owed one-third of his success to his fans and another one-third to his own hard work and passion. But Kenma also knew he owed the last one-third of his success to his friends.

Not once did Kenma regret making Akaashi his manager; Akaashi had gotten him way more sponsorships than Kenma himself could've if he was still balancing streaming, content creation, and managing his own projects.

Kenma was thankful for Kuroo for always challenging him to step outside his comfort zone. Even when Kenma was irritated and didn't want to hear Kuroo's words of advice and encouragement, Kenma was still grateful for it all.

And Bokuto. Kenma guesses he can be thankful for Bokuto for always hyping him up when he needed it the most. Especially when he was extremely hung over from a night out of (forced) drinking and had barely ten minutes to wake up and set up his stream on time.

Yes, Kenma was truly thankful for his friends. But right now, Kenma wanted to kill them. He wanted to kill Kuroo and Bokuto for coming over to his house uninvited even after he warned them not to and for raiding his stream in real life.

Right now, Kenma was seething. One, he was in the middle of a very important sponsorship deal. Two, he was in the middle of a ranked game in League of Legends and he didn't want to lose his winning streak. And three, his two goofball friends had showed up to his house with alcohol and announced out loud to his viewers that Kenma would now be participating in a drunk 24-hour stream.

Kenma doesn't remember the last time he got this mad. What's worse was that Kenma's fans were all for it. His stream chat was getting spammed with poggers emotes, and it was difficult for Kenma to admit that he had been getting more and more donations ever since Kuroo and Bokuto had shown up and the alcohol was brought out. And because of that, Kenma had begrudgingly surrendered and cracked open a White Claw.

Except he didn't stop only at one; not if Kuroo and Bokuto could help it. And at only about 5'8" with a smaller build, Kenma unfortunately fell victim to being a lightweight. And with Kuroo and Bokuto, kings of being instigators, were there to egg him on along with his stream chat, Kenma downed can after can.

Just a little something to take the edge off a work week, right?

end notes:

→ kenma’s twitch stream took me 30 minutes to piece together 😪

→ if you see the same comments on kenma’s twitch chat twice... no you didn’t 😀🔪

→ also peep the stream title change 👀

→ kenma’s the type to use scuffed candids of his friends as their contact photos, but it didn’t work out too well. he actually respects akaashi enough to use a decent photo, and bokuto never takes a bad photo. ever. i guess kuroo’s the only one he can easily clown.

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[7tsumurai]

HIII! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! WISHING YOU A GREAT YEAR FULL OF HEALTH JOY AND PEACE💙✨

I hope you guys were doing well! I was doing just fine no worries! I wasn't active on tumblr for so long and not gonna lie I missed the dynamics we have on here, also missed many friends that I've met here <3 I'm grateful for all the support, laughs and warm feelings you guys gave me through the year!

2021 was a surreal year. I made this account and started sharing my art on this very day, last year! My works received so much love and nicest comments, so so much more than I could ever imagine. For that I'm grateful to every single one of you here, you made me smile, encouraged me, helped me to figure out that; making art is my passion!

With all the ups and downs I really enjoyed being on tumblr as 7tsumurai. Once again THANK YOU for making this journey unforgettable for me💕

Now, I think some of you already noticed this is more a goodbye post than a return talk. I'll be leaving this blog and this name. I won't deactivate I'll just simply log out. I really put a lot of thoughts on this decision and came to the conclusion that this is for the best.

I'LL STILL CONTINUE TO MAKING ART! I want to give this a go from the scratch, more seriously and continously. I'll cherish every nice interaction I had here♡ May the new year bring you all the things you wish and dream for!

[If you wish to keep in touch or simply just want to know a way to contact me when you want; you can text me on twitter it's the same username with this blog, I'm planning to keep my twt.]

[ofwizardsandmen]

Foreign territory

Pasión de Gavilanes AU

Characters: Tara (OC), Mark Lee, Sungjae Lee, M, Emily

Word count: 2,6k

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

(Part of a larger story and multiple AUs, but can be read on its own)

“Our favorite girl is here!” An excited voice exclaimed causing Tara to spin around scandalized, her abundant jet black hair whipping about her head and eventually falling down her shoulders in a nearly cinematographic way.

Across the room, the owner of the voice—a tall, long-necked man of pretty dimples,—stood by a massive wooden staircase, keeping an educated distance and looking puzzled. Considering that his last encounter with Tara Lee had been anything but peaceful—the night ended up in chaos, with her cousins storming out of their own party,—he wasn’t expecting to find her pacing up and down the foyer of his house with a toddler in arms.

“I- I meant Astrid, of course,” The man, M —as his closest friends and family called him— added, nervously looking away from Tara’s judging glances. For someone who barely knew Tara and whose only “interactions” with her had consisted in cold remarks and snarky comments —from her part—the man still took offense in the way her expression contorted into something mildly similar to disgust. “Anyway… Thanks for coming”

Tara who couldn’t quite believe she’d dared to set foot in that house—if her mother or any of her aunts found out she was there, she’d be kicked out of the Delacroix State in a heartbeat,—and was still surprised by how majestic and prosperous everything seemed, only responded with a single acknowledging nod of the head.

“Wow Astrid, you’re growing so fast” M chose to ignore the fact Tara was looking around the house, seemingly unimpressed and held out both arms calling his niece’s name. In an effort to cut the distance between them, he also gave two short, cautious steps forward. “It was about time you were allowed to visit your dad and uncles,” he said, his voice changing drastically to what was supposed to be a child-friendly tone that, Tara thought to herself, was hard to emulate with his deep voice.

However, Astrid, the one-year-old toddler—daughter of Minah and Sungjae—was easy to impress. She cooed cutely waving her tiny hands around in the air as if trying to reach for the crystal lamp—or probably just her tall uncle.

The scene was sweet enough for Tara to relax and let out a soft chuckle as she made the mental note to tell her cousins about this later. There was no doubt Jane and Minah would go in a long rant about how Astrid was turning into a little traitor. They would probably have two different people to blame, but it would obviously involve the Lee brothers.

According to Tara’s cousins, M and his brothers, Sungjae and Mark, were the root of all evil, the equivalent to Satan on Earth and the reason Delacroix Group was bordering bankruptcy. And truth to be told, once upon a time, Tara herself was convinced of it and she had even go as far as campaigning against the three brothers. Tara hated each of them: Sungjae and whatever it was that had Minah acting like some hormonal teenager, M and those dimples that seemed to erase all traces of judgment from Jane's brain and above it all, Mark Lee and that stupid smile of his.

But lately, things didn’t seem so black and white anymore. Tara had promised Mark—the same Mark Lee she hated to the bone once upon a time— not to jump to conclusions when it came to their intentions anymore. And at least for now, she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

For now, Tara had even offered to take Astrid to visit her dad and willingly drove 10 miles to the brothers' ranch. That was a weekly task Jane had taken upon herself, but that she refused to carry out after the fiasco at the Delacroix fashion show.

Tara didn’t blame her.

After all, the image of Astrid’s little arms moving up and down, desperately trying to reach for her uncle would have probably caused her cousin an aneurism.

Tara, on the other hand, was much more collected, wise, and less visceral. She was also the only person in Delacroix Manor willing to see the Lees. And anyhow, Tara wasn’t pleased with the prospect of spending another afternoon with her cousins if that meant having to act sympathetic when Jane complained about how that “deceptively handsome devil”—M, her husband— showed up unannounced to their collection’s launch party and “ruined” her date with Jaehyun Jung, a textile industrial she had been frequenting. Tara wasn't sure if Jane’s complained because—she claimed—M was the last person on Earth she wanted to see or because he looked so devastatingly hot that day, dressed in a classic Ralph Lauren suit that was a striking contrast with the clothes he usually wore, or because up until that day Jaehyun had no idea Jane was—technically—married.

Then there was Minah, who despite being less vocal on her complaints, lately looked so lifeless that her mere presence seemed to drain all the energy out of the room. Tara had vainly tried to play the role of supportive cousin who offered words of consolation and encouragement, but Minah always brushed her off. Unlike Jane, Minah avoided mentioning the Lee brothers at all costs. The last time Tara asked about Sungjae, Minah got angry and claimed to be absolutely unaffected by his new romantic relationship with Ashleigh Hastings. Of course, watching her drown herself in work and rosé suggested otherwise, but Tara didn’t dare to point out the flaws in her argument. Tara was also unwilling to spend another afternoon pretending not to notice Minah’s eyes filling out with tears every now and then.

“So, Jane won’t come anymore?” M asked, clearing his throat casually as if to get Tara’s attention. It worked because Tara snapped from her thoughts and looked back at him.

“What do you think?” She replied sarcastically. M opened his mouth to say something, but Tara signaled him to hold Astrid before the hyperactive toddler decided to jump off her arms. Once M was jiggling Astrid up and down and her laugh echoed down the hallway, Tara went on as if nothing had interrupted them “If you don’t want me to come here, next time-“

“For god’s sake, Tara, don’t be ridiculous” Another familiar voice spoke from behind her. Tara was quick to notice two things. The first one was that the man’s voice dripped exasperation, the second that her heart did a wild flip when he pronounced her name. “Of course we want you to come, especially if you’re bringing our niece to visit.”

Tara gulped quietly and slowly turned around.

She was greeted by a close-up of Mark, M’s younger brother and the owner of the vast lands adjacent to Delacroix State—where Tara and her extended family lived. There, smiling that exasperating smile—confident, but warmth-inducing and absolutely gorgeous—Tara had hated for months—years, probably—, Mark Lee stood blocking the sun rays filtering through the windows. The light gave him an angelic aura. It didn’t help he was suited in a beige suit that made his back look broader than Tara could remember.

“Hi Tara, nice to see you,” Mark said simply, a full smile still present in his face.

“Hey, how are you?” Tara mentally kicked herself thinking of how awkward and unnatural she sounded, how his simple words had her feeling all sorts of nervous.

Thankfully there was no time for further regret because Mark’s older brother, Sungjae, materialized at the top of the staircase and practically flew down the stairs, pulled his daughter from his brother’s arms and smothered her with kisses.

Astrid cried solid ten seconds but then burst out with loud contagious giggles.

Watching the Astrid & Sungjae show was oddly endearing, but somehow felt like an invasion of privacy. For a second or two Tara looked around trying to find a place to sneak to while Sungjae caught up on the missing time with his daughter. But when she started to move, Sungjae’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Ummm, so Minah is not coming?” He asked as Astrid played with a strand of his hair “She’s never talking to me again or what?” Sungjae’s eyes bored into Tara’s as if trying to get an honest answer from her.

“I did everything possible to bring Astrid” Tara replied with a frown, she hesitated before adding “I really don’t think I can convince Minah to come”

It resulted impossible to ignore the shadows immediately invading Sungjae’s eyes. Tara wondered if talking about her cousin had put them there or if there was something else worrying him. The man already looked a bit haggard when Tara first saw him, but upon further inspection, she realized he looked particularly hollow-cheeked and pale “It’s fine, I’m still thankful you brought my daughter, Tara” There was a pause where Sungjae looked at Astrid with a faint smile “I really mean it. Thank you”

“Well, don’t thank me…” With a slight tinge of guilt, Tara added “We really can’t stay long. I promised to take Astrid back before our aunts notice we’re gone. You know what they think of…” she trailed off, realizing how inappropriate it was to complete that sentence. Telling the Lee brothers how much her aunts despised them seemed unnecessary and somewhat repetitive considering those four women were not exactly subtle and never missed the chance to let M, Sungjae and Mark know they were as welcome in the region as a plague was in their fields.

Sungjae’s expression dropped considerably.

“Tara, you just got here” M protested, though he kept his kind smile plastered on the face “Sungjae hasn’t seen Astrid in weeks, he won’t admit it, but he was going insane”

Mark chuckled at his brother's comment, knowing Sungjae wouldn’t appreciate being exposed like that, but looking away when Sungjae frowned at him.

“No, I am serious, guys” Tara said apologetically “We have to go soon”

“Tara, don’t be so impatient” it was almost ironic that Mark let out an impatient sigh just after calling her that. Tara looked away to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips

“Yes, Sungjae deserves some time with Astrid” A female voice coincided, taking Tara by surprise. When she looked up to the second floor, she found a beautiful young woman—Emily Choi—smiling down at them and leaning against the banister. Emily was the only daughter of Madame Elsie Choi, a wealthy and old land-owner who was too close of a friend of Tara’s aunts for her liking. However, as of recently, Emily had officially moved into the Lee residence, God knows why. Rumors said Emily was actually related by blood to the Lee brothers, but Tara was not one to listen to gossip or care about other people’s affairs.

And yet, she still supposed the change of air had been beneficial to Emily because the girl looked happier than Tara remembered her to be when she was still living with her old mom and those two annoying cousins of her. Emily smiled at her and waved a hand cordially.

“I was just dropping by to say the staff prepared a little tea party at the terrace, if you want to join me and Lucas,” she announced happily.

“Oi, he’s coming today? Again?” Mark questioned, eyes narrowing a bit comically.

“He was here yesterday and the day before. At this rate I think it’ll be better to have him moving here” M said with an eye roll

“I was just being nice” Emily scoffed, but her smile did not vanish from her lips “You’re welcome to join, but if you don’t want to, then” she shrugged casually. “I’ll be at the terrace if you need me” She made a fake reverence and before disappearing, she briefly added a “nice to see you, Tara.”

“And that’s our cue to leave” Tara attempted to move forward to retrieve Astrid from her father’s arms when a hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her in place. The woman didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mark who was holding her back, partly because M would’ve never dared to touch her and partly because her pulse accelerated inexplicably.

“I-“ Mark looked at his hand, as if startled by his own actions “I would like to talk to you before you go, Tara” he let go of her wrist and gave her a quick apologetic curtsy that caused his brothers to raise brows and share incredulous looks. “If you follow me-”

Mark led Tara through the stables and horse training facilities of his ranch. “El Dorado” was undoubtedly the greatest horse farm in the region, sprawled for miles and neighboring the Delacroix Ranch. Mark—and by default his brothers—had become the owner of this billionaire property through what people considered to be a questionable marriage that didn’t even hit the 24-hour mark. Tara had recently found out that the story was not as simplistic and accepting that the Mark she claimed to hate for years was not a gold-digging bastard had been quite of a ride. It started with him showing up at some of the most exclusive events in the region, avid of revenge and acting like he was beyond the rest of land owners. Then Tara nearly killed him, knocking him off his horse. And ended up with Tara saving his life from some lowlifes who attempted to kill him. All in the span of a month. Now, Tara followed him God knows where and for some reason she couldn’t completely grasp she didn't even protest.

“The Ranch is spectacular, you really manage it properly” Tara commented, mostly because the silence was starting to stretch for too long.

“Well, it still has nothing on yours” The man gave her a lopsided smile. It was not a secret that Tara was—or at least used to be until very recently—the real mastermind behind the Delacroix Ranch's prosperity.

“Well, lately we’ve had-“ Tara paused “a few setbacks, as you probably noted”

“It’s Julien’s fault, no?” Mark wasn't subtle, but it was an open secret that Julien Toubeau—Minah’s ex-husband and one of the most despicable humans on Earth—had recently been appointed Deputy Finance Manager of the Delacroix Group and things had gone downhill since.

Tara didn’t deny it “Mostly” she nodded “but the girls —she said referring to her cousins Jane and Minah— and I have a backup plan to save the ranch” Tara explained.

“And I’m sure you’ll do great” Mark reached to pat Tara’s shoulder, causing her to stop walking and freeze on the spot. “Especially you, Tara” he said, moving so they were facing each other “Everybody knows you’re brilliant and hardworking”

Tara looked down, afraid that if she allowed Mark to look into her eyes, he’d noticed the effect his words had on her.

“And I was furious when Julien tried to take your position from the board of governors, you know?” Mark also looked down in an attempt to find whatever it was that Tara found so interesting on the ground.

“Thanks, that means-“ she took a deep breath and raised her head “a lot to me, Mark”

“You have nothing to thank me. In fact, I should be thanking you for bringing Astrid to visit.”

“Honestly, I’m not doing it to ingratiate myself with you or your brothers, Mark” Tara suddenly turned serious “I did it because I knew Sungjae would do anything to see her and I didn’t want more problems. Things are-“ she hesitated “very complicated right now and I don’t want our families to start fighting again and-” Tara trailed off when she noticed Mark slipping a hand into hers. “And it’s not right for you to hold my hand” she added, without concealing a giddy smile making its way to her lips “The workers can see us and God knows what they’ll think. I don’t want any rumors floating around”

“And you know, I’d do more than just holding your hand,” Mark said leaning closer and closer to Tara.

“Don’t even think about it, Mark” Tara chuckled, her face a mixture of amusement and regret “It’s really not the right time”

“So, you don’t let me send you flowers, you won’t let me thank you for saving my life, Tara-“ Mark inhaled loudly “I’ve been meaning to ask you out-“ Mark could almost hear an excuse escaping from Tara’s lips, so he hurried to place a finger over them “You can’t say no, the only valid answer is a place and a date”

Tara shook her head defeated “Is it supposed to be a date?” She dared to question although she knew very well it was.

...

[rpbetter]

Hi Vespertine. Sorry to add to the pile, I promise I will send in some writing related things to compensate later. I also misgendered that user in a comment by accident with she/her. I blocked them, but they still looked at my blog, and they made a post that said by using the wrong pronouns, which they thought was intentional and meant to hurt them, I purposefully called them a hysterical woman stereotype. Obviously that wasn't true. I was just going off a comment someone else made on my blog where they used she/her, and I thought I had to correct myself. It was a case where good intentions, even if I was not happy with the user's behavior or expected to talk to them again, I was still going to use the right pronouns, but my intentions were warped by someone with an agenda. I'm sorry to hear you're getting the same heat. I didn't use my rp blog to interact with the user or talk about them because I was sure something like this would happen, either by them or other people like that callout blog, and I think other people had the same idea. I dodged a bullet there, but I'm still paranoid. I'm paranoid I'll hear a notif and see my rp blog in a callout for this, because someone hunted it down, or a callout for trying to talk to the person who started all the drama. Nobody should be scared to talk about someone on their own blog. Nobody should be scared to talk openly, in general. Nobody should be called out for trying to talk with someone either. This culture of fear is so disturbing to me.

Hey there, Anon!

Oh, I would love that, but you totally don't have to, of course. Don't feel bad for adding on, I'm here for anything at all, and honestly, with the job I'm doing IRL right now, it's really hard for me to concentrate well enough on finishing any of the advice posts (at least, to be the quality y'all deserve). It's a hot topic, it's included so, so, terribly many people in the RPC. It's also one that's generating some great, needed conversations. So, it isn't like you're adding to anything bad, annoying or distracting me, or contributing to the inflammatory side of this.

Hell, it's got to be really nice for some of the people in messages I've received to see proof that they weren't alone in this experience. I can keep publishing the hate anons for exactly that reason, and I can promise people they aren't the only ones (in this or in any such horrible behavior), but it's different to see it coming from a third party! So, thank you for that.

Though, I am deeply sorry that you were treated to more than a ringside seat in this debacle.

It's not very encouraging to be thoughtful and respectful of other people when literally nothing you can say or do will result in anything other than more twisting of your words, and that's a big problem I have with this shit. Things like actual transphobia, intentional misgendering, actual infantalization and shit treatment of ND people, actual harassment, etc. etc. etc. matter. It's just more trivializing of real problems for the sake of blowing nonexistent bullshit up, and that is immensely disgusting to me. The fact that you damn well know someone out there has had the reaction to this behavior of, well, fuck you then, fuck trans people is really upsetting.

Like, yeah, let's be real, if you require social rewards to do the right thing, you have some problems lol but at the same time, you know who does require social rewards to develop themselves? Young people. And the RPC is largely comprised of people in their early twenties who, for a variety of possible reasons, are still at that point

Furthermore, no, it's not anyone's job to be good representation at all times, especially when that performance comes at a cost to themselves, but maybe don't go out of your way to be the person that is the necessary push in the wrong direction of someone's formative experience with people of your community. If it's costing you nothing to not clown on serious issues, but is costing the entire world another bigot for you to clown on serious issues, the choice should be a bit obvious here. Whenever you're in a safe place - physically, emotionally - and capable of that kind of logic, exercise it, damn.

It's definitely a better course of action than playing out skewed activism by vilifying innocent people, more worthy of one's effort than losing their collective shit over a very easy mistake. One that I'd say was even less avoidable in your case. AGAIN, how, exactly is anyone supposed to know this shit when they're blocked? When they aren't subverting the blocks they, themselves, put in place? I know for a fact none of them are looking at the information of the people they choose to try to drive out of the RPC, but everyone else is supposed to make zero reasonable assumptions, check and recheck blogs they have made an effort not to visit for good reason. Sounds absolutely reasonable and sane!

So, you know what? I'm going to be even more offensive here and talk for a moment about why these mistakes are reasonable.

When we see a post and reblog it, it's not unreasonable to assume that the OP had knowledge we didn't. Since we blocked the offending party, but they're discussing them. OP uses the incorrect pronouns, we end using the incorrect pronouns as well. This is not malicious intent. It isn't intentional at all, it's just having a discussion. A discussion that wouldn't have even transpired if they hadn't taken it upon themselves to (what a coincidence) take personal issue with a RPer they repeatedly took out of context and decided to shame for it, before proceeding to get an even bigger stick and pot.

When we decide to block a blog, it's our responsibility to stay off of it. Not go looking at it for any reason. That is now off-limits. When someone blocks us, it's also our responsibility to respect that decision, no matter how outrageous it was, no matter what we might need to verify. That's the issue with blocking when we don't exploit how easy it is to get around blocking on tumblr; we've cut ourselves off from any further meaningful communication, including passive communication like rules and posts. Kind of like how you cannot expect an apology to mean a damn thing when you've blocked everyone you harassed, then made that apology in a post on your blocked blog. Don't put up walls you expect people to see through, then get upset when they can't see through them.

As a community, the RPC is primarily afab. That's never a problem to bring up when someone wants to be angry about their female muse not getting equal attention and so on, but it's a problem to discuss any other time, about any other problem. Dealing with the things that we're socially raised to ascribe to as afab people is that problem. It's reflected in our behaviors, interests, and speech. We may not want to live in a gendered world, we may eschew that, but we were raised in a gendered world and it shows. One which has a lot of complications for being that, like almost everyone feeling safer around afab people by default of the All Men Are Bad, All Women Are Harmless bullshit.

We not only know that the RPC is primarily afab, we tend to assume comfort, especially in hostile situations, by assuming those pronouns in others.

And it so does not matter how much any of us like it, some people have more masculine or feminine tones. Even in text. That means neither that someone's gender identity should be disregarded nor that this text-based presentation is correct, but like every other unfair thing that exists, it's a thing. Like you, Anon, you genuinely come across in tone as primarily neutral, slight lean toward masculine. Even if I wasn't inclined to do so, not knowing you and all, I'd use they/them for you instinctively because that's what your speech is giving me. That isn't any more unreasonable than ascribing another set of pronouns based on the same information.

Oh yeah, I know, lurkers, the difference is that they/them is the appropriate choice when one does not know. I know that logically, but people aren't always operating like robots, weirdly enough. We default to a lot of instinctive behaviors, and we aren't always operating at the top rung of cognition either. Being human works like that, it's really that simple and not malicious if you're not reading that into it.

As we're all aware, it is being read into, and your experience is exactly why; you now feel worried every time you get a notif, you've been outed as a supposed transphobe, and while it is incredibly fortunate you stopped this from transpiring on your RP blog, it still transpired somewhere and has had a negative effect. If they find they correct thing or set of things, they can get so many more people to dogpile you over it. Get enough people to do that, make someone miserable enough, especially people who are already going through a hard enough time already, they'll leave.

It is a terroristic act, and it has the effect of all terroristic acts; people are afraid to exist outside of shifting bounds (that shifting is a part of the terrorism). They can't have an opinion, write any muse/topic they wish, be honest on their own blogs, support the "wrong" topics, muns, or blogs. Attacking people for a mistake, not allowing them to address it either, just furthers all of that. It's showing the community what happens when you aren't on the "right" side, even if that isn't even the case. They certainly turn on their own quickly enough.

So, of course, it's a culture of fear and it is disturbing as hell. No one has any right to make someone feel unsafe over fiction or a hobby or a difference of opinion. Everyone has the right to say whatever they want on their own blogs, to talk openly, and yes, to try to talk to others without feeling at risk.

Even if what someone says is genuinely unpleasant. This isn't the way one handles it. By all means, have a problem with something, have a problem with someone, but grow up and talk to them openly, without bringing everyone you can dredge up to join in. I have no issue with people arguing, I have an issue with bullying. If it's your whole goal to harass people without consequences to the end result of deactivation and lockstep behavior from everyone else, that's what you're doing, folks. Bullying.

If you can't win an argument, especially one your own ass began, in any other way than this, you're not engaging in an argument.

[ffccaarr-blog]

partially false and partially true is still false - basics of logic. this thing should be more precise. yeah, right now I'm on his twt and someone who is running this account liked a bunch of comments on October the 1st to 3rd, so it's not so dead. moreover "he" was quite active with replies on September the 29th, as far as I know statements from ig and fb were deleted on September the 28th. "he" tweeted on September the 29th, when the last tweet on his account was this statement, so it would be really easy to delete it from there. but somehow it stayed. cannot believe I just stalked someones social media... No, you weren't attacking fans, but you added fuel to the fire by interacting with shameful post of bpop or what is this internet bully name. post where someone thought it would be good to offend people who had a little ray of empathy for a sick guy on downfall or just cannot imagine their fav band without a lead singer. this original post of bprop encouraged to a blatant lynch mob, someone stans some singer but better burn his puppets after one disgusting action to please some guys otherwise you'll be excluded from society. I could understand if he'd do this once more, which I don't wish to his partner, fingers crossed for a better life in this relationship for them. but if he'd do this once again, for me he'll be a lost cause. but now we are living in the reality that all this shit were "out of character" caused by "alcohol addiction", so idk why doing so big deal at some social medias? I mean, okay maybe for some people running a thousand of accounts here and there is the most important thing in life but it is not like that for everyone. some managers are running all this stuff and most of the time it doesn't have much with a real life of person in which name they are doing this. I'm not here to block you, still think you don't deserve that and your reply to me is okay after what I wrote. I'm not even a big stan of this singer and his ex-band, but my girlfriend is and she was upset by your post. this is why I wrote to you. you can't even imagine what shit she gone through bc she only wrote to guy "get well soon". all of this thanks to internet "moral authorities" sitting in the front of computers, keyboard warriors who cannot understand that someone have a different point of view at some topics. for me their actions were just the same abuse like toms. he abused his partner psychically, internet lynch mob abused my gf mentally, after just one comment. do you think this is normal? okay, all of this was bc of his idiotic behavior, but after he was sentenced, accepted the punishment, apologised and now is trying to comeback to his 'normal' self, everyone should just move on and eventually go to this situation if he'll act like a thug again, coming at all stans who believe in second chance is not a solution. so I'm sick of people who tell others what they should do - stan or unstan, and are first to make hell on social media bc you choose to take a risk and support someone. all this stuff like "statement wasn't honest" or this guy who reply there with some "infos" nobody can verify are just another proof of seeking for something still evil in all this situation. who knows what was between a band members. some people said that it was known for them, bc all toms social accounts were created a couple of days after this awful event. like it was prepared for his departue from the band for months and by a strange coicidence band sacked him one day before trial. all of this is just a cold PR, I'm amazed how people are still searching for some human emotions there. but yeah everything is from heart, all posts, mentions, likes and unlikes have a philosophic meaning 👍 and only just a normal fans have the worst time in their lives. thanks to the dumbest idol ever and ofc randoms from internet. I see you are upset by some idiots on ig but they aren't a person they stan. so I'm surprised you stopped having a hope for his change after a stupid comments written by randoms. sad to read that it was the reason to cancel him completely. I just hope it will be a much better in the future, for fans who are with this band for many years. now we know nothing and it still looks like we are throwing accusations right and left. thanks for discussion, have a nice day.

Just found out both the statements r deleted from Tom's social medias.

Wtf man? What about acknowleding ur past actions and owning up to it? Isn't it a better showing of ur evolution to a better man if both ur past statements, and future achievements r seen on ur account? And the comments of those posts, tons of concerns, well wishing, and of course criticisms from fans and disappointed ppl r all gone now. I know it's probably his new management's doings but this, and one of his managers leaving comments here and there left a bad taste in my mouth. Looks like they just want to pretend nothing happened when u go onto his social medias.

I've had follow his ac for a few days before, to know more conveniently what posts he liked, but undid it eventually, cuz it could just be his manager anyway, and some of his stans really got on my nerves. All things make it feel wrong and I don't want to see his face for now.

Meanwhile Kasabian's statements r still there, as they should be.