#my apologies to those on Mobile

[doodle-girl]

And as the haze finally lifts, the weight of all your sins finally comes crashing down on you all at once like a tidal wave

You had become a part of the monsters you were so disgusted by in the first place.

Comic I did for @corrupteddoodles Caretaker Alex/Brainwashed AU, particularly when they finally get their memories back (get your memories back, idiot). Inspired by this passage they wrote in dms once:

[lunaetis]

me to any of my mutuals interacting with eden for the first time : she bites.

[ryeonah]

tag dump

[ladybyakuya]

| I WISH YOU ROSES + KAIJU NUMBER 8.

+cw. —f!reader, smut headcanon + scenarios format, sort of exs to lovers, mature content, angst and hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, established relationship

+syn.— making amends after the fight. who apologizes first? does it always end up with sex? or is he sleeping on the couch tonight?

+wc. —1.5k

+notes. — wanted it to be super smutty but ended up with angst instead. enjoy and scream in tags if you like it| redirect to blog navigation.

→ [ ICHIKAWA RENO ]

reno would stare at the screen of his mobile phone opening your message box yet not send a single text to you. he is a little stubborn. in the spur of the moment, he said, “maybe we had nothing, to begin with in the first place.” those were some heavy words. he won't disagree. even liquor isn't enough to drown his feelings about you. why do people drink to forget their love anyway? it's stupid. it's so stupid. he locks his phone and then buries his head in his hands murmuring, “god why can't I just call her?" the rusty fizzy flavor is threatening his throat again. his phone starts to vibrate and rings a little later making him jump a bit but his reflexes were quick enough not to get you a first full ring. “hello? babe? is that you?”

“just call her man.” Iharu drawls from the other side and disconnects the call even though he sits opposite him. Reno looks at him ungodly pissed until the prior speaks up, “don’t waste your anger on me, dude.” Reno’s phone rings again.

“you’re doing this on purpose, aren't you picking on me?” Reno tartly responds holding his phone towards him so sure about that Iharu is doing it again but that dimwit is so drunk that he has to lean forward, squint his eyes at the screen.

“no dudee. It's your girl—” Reno picks up the phone but he doesn't speak.

“are you at a bar right now? i just finished my work.”

“yes, I’m. can I go pick you up?”

“of’course you can but I got a cab. bye. text me the address.”

When you reach at the bar you could easily spot him. He is sitting at the corner in a secluded area. Ofcourse he is. Then, there is Iharu practically drooling on the table.

“why are you here?”

“what do you mean why I'm here? You texted the address.”

“yes but aren't you angry? At me?”

“yes but I know better than to take you seriously when you are that angry. ” he looks away from your face. “we can talk about it if you are still upset.” he shoots you a lazy smile and gets up.

“what about him?”

“what about who?” reno asks with pinched eyebrows.

Iharu’s snores are quite loud by now. You look at Reno holding your hand out. He doesn't protest. He gives you his phone and says his passcode. He gets you. His words are not drawly but rather slower than usual. At first, you intend to call Kafka but both of them being a pain in the ass you texted his vice-captain.

The can ride from bar to home was silent. Reno was laying his head down on your shoulder, eyes closed but a little fidgeting was there every now and then. As soon as you reach your apartment complex he got out, even leant against the wall while being on the elevator. He's sulking. It's adorable sometimes. When you reach your shared apartment he doesn't come in stands outside until you ask him to.

“i’m sorry.” reno says loud enough to kick out the drowsiness out of his body. “i'm sorry, babe.”

“well, it was partly my fault too but —” you grab his collar and pull him towards yourself. his defense system is useless against you. “but I'm going to make it memorable.” you say unbuckling his pants. As soon as his trousers hit the floor Reno closes the door with a kick while you go to your knees. “perhaps we should fight more,”

With his member in your hand you look up at him and then blink. once. twice. thrice. And then get up and walk inside your room. A few seconds of silence and then Reno is walking on your trail left by you apologizing for a few more times until you just shut him up with the most sloppiest toe curling blow job.

→ [ GEN NARUMI ]

“do not walk away from me. I'm not done talking yet.” Narumi's voice is perfectly flat devoid any splotch of anger or even frustration. he is leaning against the door as you move from kitchen counter to the dinning table carrying the dishes, then cooked meals and a water bottle. his eyes are going back and forth waiting for you to say something, anything or just yell at him. he can handle your blood and tears, not this silent treatment.

“well, don't treat me like I'm one of your missions and we are good.” you exclaim with a low voice while waving a hand as if you were talking to yourself but actually you just wanted to beckon him for dinner.

“i don't us to be just good. I want us to be better, to be comfortable in each other's presence, even in thoughts. . .” and now he is going to lecture you, like one of his subordinates. there is an agonizingly awful silence filling the room as you wait for him to continue but he is just there, standing, still silent.

you turn your chair to spare a look at him. his stance is still the same, lazy and nonchalant. he isn't mocking you or your love for him. he genuinely cares for you.

“i mean it.” he starts walking towards you in faster pace than usual. “and you know that.” he stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. the moment you leave your seat he is going to pounce on you like a wounded animal. this has happened before and last time it hurt a lot. so you don't get up instead just turn around to eat.

He grabs your wrist before you can even touch the food. “I said we’re not done talking.” he almost yells. seeing you flinch he sighs deeply before he gets on his knees and rests his head on your lap. “we submit are phones after turning it off. that's why I didn't know— that you were coming early from work. we work in different departments so we have different rules too. you can ask around. they'll tell you.”

“why didn't you say that earlier? was the whole fight really necessary?” you said with utter frustration laced underneath your voice.

“shouldn’t i at least get the benefit of doubt?” he looks at you placing his chin on your thighs.

you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes. “yes but — umm— never mind.” you say running your thumb over his lips. he graces a glance at you before running his hands on your back tracing up to your shoulders, he is crouching now and then pull away your top. now you're naked and sitting on a chair as he is standing. he throws the top away and sits on his knees again. hooking his arms around your calf muscles he licks in between your legs. “this is payback.” he whispers. your panty is still on and all Narumi is doing is licking slowly over the cloth, sometimes barely touching but if this is the payback you don't mind it at all, unlike last time.

→ [ HOSHINA SOSHIRO ]

Hoshina is the one who gives you the silent treatment even if he is at fault. He doesn't want his anger to harm you in any way, be it due to you or due to himself. He is not much of an angry person to begin with but somehow he just loses it for you. Maybe that's his protective instinct for you or the fear of melting the cocoon he created for his own protection. Either way, it's frustrating. It's frustrating enough that he keeps telling you how you should not put yourself in danger to protect him in a field mission yet you keep disobeying him at every mission. Either you are mocking him or trying to take his position which by the way both are wrong given the fact that you are his subordinate. He sat on one of the benches in the training room. he is too frustrated to concentrate on training.

“you know, you can let your anger out right? on me?”

Hoshina looks at you, pupils ever so still like a moonlight pond on a windless night. That's exactly what he doesn't want. don't you get that? you're wearing your night dress not your suit, which means you were either waiting for him or going to bed.

“i'm not mad at you.” he sighs. “not even myself. just at the situation in general. i know it's your instinct to protect people but sometimes . . .” he trails off looking at his fisted hand. he unfists his hand again.

“i can take it all, you know?. be it your love or anger. . .” Hoshina looks at you keeping his bottle aside. he swallows before leaving his place and dragging you inside the training room, the door still not closed.

“are you sure about that my love?” he graces his hands in between your thighs while whispering. you give him a nod. “let's see how long you last.” as his hand rubs against your entrance his mouth starts to suckle over your nipples as his other hand pins both of your hands above your head. the night suddenly feels long and breezy.

[gootarts]

as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

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

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

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

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[kairithemang0]

there are very few fandoms that don't suck at gatekeeping fans (for once I praise the kh community which the old fans actually help the new fans understand because we're all so damn confused at the end of the day, at least this was my experience, but I haven't heard too many horror stories about people in the fandom gatekeeping, the games gatekeep themselves cough the mobile games cough). i wish the hatchetfield fandom wasn't like that. I couldn't get into the nmts for a while, but I am sadly a lore freak and tried to be in lore conversations and didn't understand shit. And the answer was mostly just "watch the nmts" which like... geez I'll get around to it??? It felt very aggressive, I dunno. That was also just a few people though, over all I think this fandom is like a 7/10 when it comes to letting people in on lore. There are probably a lot of people who had worse experiences then me though, and that really sucks

gatekeeping is sooo lame . you're mean to new fans bc you think you know the lore better? who fucking cares dude 😭

~~~

[imsorrythatimweird101-blog]

HOW SHIFT USING THE GATEWAY TAPES (UPDATED)

Hey, I want start off to apologize. I'm so sorry for bringing awareness to the tapes and then not clarifying on what to do or how to start. I did try to answer every question I can. I did post a guide a while back but Im still remastering it

IMPORTANT VOCAB

F10- body asleep and mind awake

F12- having your consciousness in the universe and expanded

HOW TO START:

So first off you need click on drive. Once you open the drive you will see tapes.

Before staring the tapes you NEED read a MANUAL. So if you look at your bottom left corner. You will see a PDF and it will have a picture of a old man. He's name is Bob. The creator of the tapes. I love Bob.

Once you click on the tape. You scroll down and you see titles. These titles are the titles of the tape in the folders that your going to use. At the bottom of the titles, there going be a discription. These discription tell you what the tapes do but also how they work and what you need to do during those tapes. Once your done your ready to go

STEPS

Step 1: open the drive and you will see the folders of tapes. ‼️DO NOT USE ANY OTHER AUDIO EXPECTED THE DRIVE. YOUTUBE COMPRESS THEM AND MAKE THEM NOT WORK‼️

[GATEWAY TAPES DRIVE ](https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/mobile/folders/1vZJg5oJvfYVwWryJh05pfkZTV0cnd026)

Step 2: click the bottom far left corner. It's a Manuel and has a picture of a old guy smiling (bob)

Step 3: find the title of the tape your going to use. Read it carefully and know what's going happened and what to do

Step 4: go to discovery and play the first tape. Don't fall asleep! Be awake during the tapes!

Great! Keep doing these tapes for each tape. Each tape you must do it 3 times or more. So you can get familiar with it. BUT MOST IMPORTANT IF YOUR NOT READY TO MOVE ON OR YOU FEEL LIKE YOU NEED KEEP DOING. THAT'S OKAY, SHIFTING IS ALWAYS GOING BE HERE SO DONT RUSH

‼️PAY ATTENTION TO THIS PART‼️

Once you reach Tape 3- advanced F10. There's a trigger that YOU MUST MASTER. The whole point of discovery is to train your brain to be awake and body asleep.

Now continues the normal steps like the other but this time. You need keep doing it until your able do It without the tapes. This is very important because when your trying reach F12(the goal). You need to be in F10 first and master It already

After that, you NEED to do the other tapes like the normal steps. Because the 4 tape is to have fear go away and if you blockages. The 5 is for awareness while you sleep and 6- free flow- is to freestyle

‼️Make sure to let go any expectations of these tapes because this will hold you back! Put your expectations and your needs in the energy box!‼️

But you can go to F12 tape.

F12 tape is next to discovery. Know as Wave 2. A lot of people ask why only that tape and not the others. Well! If you do F12 tape and in beginning bobs explains that after F12 tape. Those tapes are TOOLS. Those tools involved with manefisting, remote viewing, answering questions etc (I recommend you to check it out)

So the thing you need to do is master F12 and then shift!

Tips and questions

Q: what are gateway tapes?

A: here's some recourses that explains it way more better then I ever could

[gateway tapes ](https://youtu.be/46E_FX-KxZ8?si=yV8dqgoBdcNJXclD)

[Gateway tapes CIA EXPLAINED ](https://youtu.be/HOFq3ruef7I?si=JbwpcgnZ9rrbGyyz)

Q: can I shift at F10?

A: yes you can. It's possible but it's not really meant for that. Its more of SATS approach if that's what you're looking for because F10 is mind awake and body asleep

Q: how many times do I listen to it

A: as many times you feel like. I personally listen to it 3-4 times a day but only because I'm in summer break. Whatever works in your schedule

Q: how do I know I'm in F10?

A: your body is heavy and your limbs are numb. Your body is supposed to be asleep. Many people reported that the hear themselves snore. Me personally, my breath is non-existent and my chest is numb in away. Or like barely there. Trust me you will know. Ofc this doesn't mean you can't move you body at all. You can move your body in F10 but need the WILL to move your body. It can be different from everyone

Q: I tried it couple of days, why is it working?

A: first off, you need patience. This is practice. It's like a baseball player wanting to be the best pitcher in the world but they throw the ball couple of times and then when it's not right. They run and cry in there room. You need take the tapes seriously not half ass it and be PATIENT. Don't rush things. That's the worse thing you can do because you will miss important cues and it's going be all bad.

Q: I keep falling asleep why is that

A: your brain and body is not used to it. Your brain isn't normal active. Its active but it's going through your sleep cycles. So having your brain be in vibration state of being awake and your body being sleep cycle. It's going get confused because it's not used to it. That's why the tapes train it.

Q: do I need earphones or headphones when listening to tape

A: yes, you need ones that aren't noise cancelling and make sure that you hear bob in your right ear. Only because there certain sounds that play in both your ears for your brain to sync.

Q: are these tapes actually going make me shift

A: yes, I believe it will. The only reason why I personally believe that anyone can 1000 percent shift because these gateway tapes were run by scientist and actually doctor in fields to perfect it. Not only that CIA agents use these and it's approved by the CIA. There actually evidence and research done. It isn't like some random teenagers made a method up in there room. These tapes are designed to open the human mind and Bob himself even talked to alter version of himself with these tapes.

‼️MOST IMPORTANT TAKE‼️

Now, you gotta have open mind and believe it too. You cant go in the tapes with a negative mindset and expect a beautiful outcome. This is in every method you used..not only the gateway tapes. If you believe it won't work because whatever the case then obviously it won't work because your mind is going block everything and not letting it's self In general. This is life In general.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 1- Jello at Your Front Door

Summary: 15 years ago, a football and a boy four doors down makes your move to Florida a little more bearable. Now, you're not quite sure how to feel when you find out he's shown up back at home unannounced

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, Frankie has a nickname for reader)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, meeting Frankie for the first time, cute, awkward baby Frankie, a football throw Santi will never forgive you for

A/N: ... Hey.... How y'all doin'.... Remember when I said I was gonna start a different Frankie series months ago? I hope you humbly accept this as my official formal apology for not being able to get my shit together, as I present this offering to you instead 🙂 I started writing this 24 hours ago and I legitimately couldn't stop, so here we are??? I know this is a different style that what I normally write, but here's to trying new things (and hopefully finishing them). I hope you guys enjoy 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Next Chapter

You, Present

“Frankie’s home.” 

You weren’t really sure how to comprehend how the combination of those two words would be one of the worst sucker punches you’d taken to your gut in the better part of the last decade. 

As the sentence replayed over and over in your head, you could think of any other combination of two words that would have scared you less. 

“Hurricane’s coming.” 

“Bomb’s dropping.” 

“World‘s ending.” 

In a universe where things make sense, the response these would elicit from the average person would be reasonable, rational even. When you’ve been given a warning about the way two words have the potential to alter your reality, you can’t help but panic. 

But today, you’ve woken up in a universe where things don’t make sense. 

And what’s worse is, you didn’t even get a warning. 

The statement shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. When you’d seen his truck parked in the driveway four houses down, you knew it had to be him. Anyone else in the world would be caught dead driving the barley mobile piece of metal he’d been traveling in for the better part of 20 years. But Frankie Morales was not anyone else. He’d drive that damn car until the wheels fell out underneath him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in a stubborn stare down with his 1989 maroon Chevrolet Silverado. You had a sneaking suspicion that today wouldn’t be your last. 

“Why is Fr- Why is he back?” 

You hadn’t intended for your tone to be so bitter, but the taste of Frankie’s name on the tip of your tongue left a taste in your mouth so sour, you wanted to recoil into yourself. 

“Why do you think?” It was clear your mother had no interest in playing into your game of cruel intentions, barely paying you any mind as she glanced out the window, unphased by the looming presence in the Morales’s driveway, “You should go say hello.” 

“No thanks, I’m not a fan of purposely ruining the rest of my day.” You don’t mean for your eyes to roll as far back into your head as they do, but you can’t help it. At this point it seems like an innate, programmed response. Simply the thought of Frankie Morales was enough to dampen your mood; an intentional confrontation was the last thing you needed. 

“You’re going to have to see him at some point, you know. Can’t hide from him the whole time he’s here.” 

Your mom hadn’t even given you the chance to rebuttal, disappearing from your bedroom to leave you to stew in your own resentment, because she knew as well as you that it was pointless to fight back. 

At some point, you’d have to face Frankie. Today, you’d stick to hiding. 

You, Summer of 1999, Age 11

26 total hours trapped in a U-Haul with your family and every item you’d ever owned was not the way you had planned to spend your last week of summer before starting middle school. You’d hoped that the nearly 3 day journey from Michigan to Florida would be long enough to help you cope with your distress. Unfortunately, you weren’t shocked that cramped quarters and unclear driving directions in the midst of uprooting your life wasn't doing much to lighten your mood. 

Your parents had promised you the move would be worth it. That starting a new life halfway across the country would be good for your family. You weren’t quite sure what positives Florida posed to you, but even at the ripe age of 11, it didn’t take a genius to realize that “starting over somewhere new” was code for “trying to keep your dad alive.” 

The doctors back home were thrilled to tell you about the new, potentially life saving treatment for his rapidly progressing colon cancer. You were thrilled too, until that new, life saving treatment meant moving 1,300 miles from home. 

Not once did you protest- keeping your dad a living, breathing part of your life was better than having to say goodbye to your best friends, but it still didn’t mean every mile you drove further and further south down I-75 was another grain of salt in your freshly open wound. 

Your parents had tried to incentivise you with all the joys that Florida would have to bring- warm, sunny weather, beaches, being a 3 hour drive away from Disney world, a bigger house, the list went on and on. And while you knew one day you’d find joy in the rewards you’d reap from your sacrifice, you had a feeling that day wouldn’t be coming any time soon. 

It took too many movers to count to finally get your new house to resemble what was supposed to be a home. There was something so unsettling about seeing your furniture reassembled into unfamiliar corners of a place you’d never been. Even the things that were supposed to feel familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, scrambled in the walls of your new residence like a child who had shaken up a box of their favorite toys and dumped them out on the ground, leaving behind a mess for someone else to clean up. 

The only solace you could seem to find in the wave of chaos that had washed over your life was the view outside your bedroom window. A quiet escape, perfectly positioned to watch the warm rays of sunset fade behind the rooftops, the night slowly shifting into shades of black and blue as your eyelids became heavy.

Each night as you drifted to sleep, you dreamt about the ways you could be saved from the lonely island you were trapped on. A sole survivor begging to be found. You tossed and turned in the sea of your twisted bedsheets, crying out that there would be someone, anyone who would risk their life to rescue yours. 

On the first two nights, the only response to your pleas was a deafening silence, an insult to injury that you were destined to spend the rest of your life on a godforsaken landmass no one would ever find. On the third night, your cries carried on the winds of the warm summer air, sneaking through the cracks of an open window four doors down. 

“You should go out there and play with those boys down the road! They look like they’re probably about your age!” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the two gangly figures racing up and down the street for the better part of the last hour, hoping they wouldn’t catch your passing glances through your living room window as you pretended to watch whatever episode of “Rocket Power” aired next on Nickelodeon. Perhaps the pair boys hadn’t noticed you watching them, but your dad had surely noticed the way you could have cared less about whatever was on the TV in front of you. 

“They’re playing football, I don’t really think they’d probably want me to play.” You huff under  your breath. 

“You’re good at football. Probably better than they are.” Your dad laughs like it’s meant to be funny, but you know he’s serious. He’ll never admit to you out loud he wished his only child would have been a boy, but you’ve never minded playing the role of the son he never had. 

And he’s not wrong. You definitely are a better throw than either of them. 

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that a girl’s asking to go play football with them.” The sigh that follows this is even more annoyed than the last, now too self aware at 11 years old to revert back to the days of approaching kids you’ve never met on the playground and asking to join in without needing to worry about the social repercussions of your actions. 

“Well, you can either pout and pretend to watch TV, or you could go try to make some friends. That’s up to you, Bud.” He smirks at the scrunch in your brow and flair in your nostrils, the same face he knows he makes when he’s been hit by the cold, hard truth he doesn’t like. 

You know he’s right. 

“Fine,” You grumble, reluctantly pushing yourself off the edge of the couch, “But if they’re dumb, I’m coming back home.” 

“Atta girl. Go easy on ‘em, Killer.” 

As you step outside, it feels like you’ve become some sort of jungle explorer, trying to approach a herd of wild animals in their element without startling them to the point of attack. You’d even brought a peace offering to ease the introductions, hoping that your own football would be an appreciated contribution to their game. 

As you make your way down the street, you’re not sure if you’re particularly good at sneaking up on the boys, they haven’t noticed your presence, or worse, they’re actively trying to ignore you in hopes that you’ll go away. 

“H-Hi.” You stammer, half attempting to wave at the back of their heads, nowhere near close to catching their attention. 

“Hello?” This time it’s a little louder, slowly taking a few steps closer, “Hi?” 

God, maybe it’s a fourth option you hadn’t considered and they’re both deaf. 

“Hey!” 

This one finally catches their attention, causing both boys to turn around cautiously, not sure whether they’re more shocked that someone’s interrupted whatever play they’re about to run, or that the person who’s interrupted them is you. 

All of three of you stand in silence for a moment, mind racing in curiosity as you take in the image of clumsy limbs and messy mats of hair stuck to sweaty foreheads. The one boy is shorter, thick, jet black curls sprouting from the top of his head and arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face that’s not quite mean, but most definitely not welcoming. 

The other, taller and lankier, a mop of dark brown hairs twisting at the nape of his neck, eyes soft as he glances back and forth between you and his friend. His demeanor is much different, almost nervous compared to the boy standing next to him, fits balled in the pockets of his shorts while the adam’s apple he still needs to grow into bobs in his throat. 

For as much as no one wants to draw in the silent standoff you’ve entered, you started this mess, so you might as well be the first one to fold. 

“H-hi. Sorry, I um, I didn’t wanna interrupt-” 

“I mean, you did.” The shorter boy mumbles, wincing as the nervous one slaps him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Jesus, what was that for, asswad?!” 

“Let her talk!” He grunts, sneering at his friend before turning back to you, his face much kinder now than the expression he just gave to his friend. “Sorry. You can um, you can keep talking if you want. Sorry about him.” 

You try not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s hard not to smirk at the way the two have managed to put themselves on display in the thirty seconds you’ve spent talking to them. 

“It’s okay. I um- I just moved in down the street. That green house over there.” All of your eyes shift as you point behind you, signaling where your journey had begun a few moments ago, “I was uh- I was wondering if you guys wanted another person to play with? I- I brought my own football.” 

“Normally you only need one football to play football, duh. Do you even know how football works?” 

In an instant, your heart sinks to your gut, eyes dropping to the ground to watch your feet start to drag across the pavement, back to where you came. But before you can lift the sole of your sneaker from the cement, a voice stops you. 

“She obviously does or she wouldn’t ask, numbnuts! C’mon, Santi, don’t be a dick.” 

Although it’s not directed at you, it’s enough to bring your attention back to the kinder boy, no name yet, but quite positive it’s not also Santi (or asswad). The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a strange sort of calm running through you as his slight half smile reveals his brace covered teeth, looking at you in a way that makes you feel just a little less small. 

“Yeah, you can play with us. I’m Frankie, by the way.” 

Frankie. 

There’s something about his name that fits him so perfectly. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know from the way it rolls off your tongue that it just feels right. 

“Hi, Frankie. I’m Mackenzie.” 

Frankie’s hands are now out of his pockets, a line of defense dismantled after hearing your name. 

“Hello? Have we forgotten about me? There are three of us here, remember?” 

“This is Santi. Well, Santiago, but we all call him Santi.” The way Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend tells you everything you need to know about their friendship, giggling at the way he dramatically pouts as he introduces him. 

“Mackenzie? Isn’t that, like, a last name?” Santi asks, still not yet warmed up to the idea of you, but intrigued enough to ease how tightly his arms are crossed. 

“And? Isn’t Santiago the capital of Chile?” You sass, your mater-of-factness and quick wit making Frankie unintentionally snort. 

“Alright, touché, Christopher Columbus.” Santi mocks, acting tough to try and hide the pink blooming in his cheeks. 

“I like Mackenzie. I think it’s cool.” 

There’s something about the way he says it that you know he means it, wondering why the way hearing your name fall from his lips churns your stomach in a sensation you’d never felt before this moment. 

“Yeah, well, just so you know, Frankie is short for Francisco.” Santi interrupts, trying to find a way to get a jab back at either you or Frankie, at this point he doesn't really care which. 

“Well, last time I checked, there wasn’t a Francisco, Chile.” 

That one sends Frankie into full blown hysterics, boyish snickers taunting his friend, whose attempt to save his namesake has left him the butt of the joke. 

“Will the two of you clowns just shut up and throw the ball? If you’re gonna let her play, Frank, can we at least make sure she can throw?” Santi whines, using every ounce of prepubescent strength he has left to play into his unbothered facade. 

“You can use your ball if you want.” Frankie suggests, shrugging at his indifference to the ball held in your hand compared to the one held in yours. 

“No! If she’s playin’, she’s usin’ our ball!” Santi’s voice trails further away with each step back he takes, settling himself in the middle of the street a few feet down from where you and Frankie stood, not willing to take any more risks when it comes to you, even if it’s something as stupid as a football. 

“Fine by me.” You shrug, happily obliging to his request, Frankie giving you a silent nod of reassurance as he passes his football off to you. 

It’s only now you notice he’s nervous again, one hand back in his pocket as he wriggles his toes in the ends of his worn sneakers while you size up your toss, knowing he’s worried that Santi will never let him live it down if the ball can’t make it more than three feet in front of you. 

Neither of you would know it then, but the silent exchange you make with Frankie as you line up your throw would be the first of many unspoken promises you’d keep to him. What seemed like a simple task,  to prove worthy of his friendship by throwing a football, would turn out to be the most important promise you'll ever make to Fransisco Morales. 

You weren’t ever going to let him down. 

“You can go further back.” You shout, almost offended by the distance Santi had chosen to stand away from you. 

“If you can make it this far, I’ll be impressed.” 

“You promise you’ll go get it after I throw it past you?” 

“I promise, Joe Montana, throw the damn ball.” 

You shrug at Frankie, like he’s supposed to know what comes next. He’s too scared to question either of you, all he can do is let his eyes dart back and forth between you and Santi, knowing there’s no world where both of you can prove your point. What scares him more is that he trusts you more than his friend. 

You line your fingers up on the laces, gripping the leather like your life depends on it. In a way, it does. With a step forward, your arm hurls the ball, two of the three of you standing dumbfounded in the street as you watch it soar further and further past its intended target, spirling through the sky until it bounces off the cement with an acrobatic roll, three times the distances of where Santi had placed himself. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. You just smile and shrug- it's the best “I told you so” you could give them. 

“Fine. She can stay.” 

To this day, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a compliment from Santi. 

“Nice work, Kenz.” 

Your stomach flips. You try to blame it on the adrenaline of it all, that there was no way a compliment so simple had you wiping your sweaty palms over the denim of your shorts, trying your best to erase any evidence that he was the reason your heart was racing out of your chest. 

Now it’s 15 years later, and as much as you hate him, you still can’t get that goofy, brace faced smile out of your mind. 

Frankie, Present 

There’s a reason he shows up at 1 A.M. Everyone’s asleep. If the world is asleep around him, he’s safe from having to deal with anyone, at least until morning. There’s a part of him that wishes he would have parked his truck down the street, tricking you into thinking that he wasn’t even there. 

It’s hard to justify when you’re the reason he’s back home in the first place. 

When he got the call from his mom, he knew he had to come. He didn't want to, but he knew he’d hate himself forever if he didn’t. 

“Hey, Mamá.” 

“Francisco, how quickly can you make it home?”  

“Mom, I told you, I’m not-” 

“It’s Doug. He’s in hospice.” 

“Fuck. How um- how much longer do they think he has?” 

“When I talked to Michelle, she said they were hoping for a few more weeks. But I’m not sure. He doesn’t look good, mi amor. If you want to say your goodbyes, now’s the time.” 

“O-okay. I can probably be home by tomorrow. Gonna be late though. Is uh- is she, um-” 

“She’s here. For about a week or so already. She keeps looking over at your empty spot in the driveway just like she did all those years you were away. Waiting for you, Francisco.” 

It’s the lump in his throat and ache in his chest that gets him home an hour and fifteen minutes faster than what his GPS said it would. He’s not sure what delusional part of his mind thinks that maybe you’ll be waiting for him when he pulls into the driveway. Maybe it’s the same delusional part of his mind that pictured you sitting there, cross legged on the concrete, staring up at the sky to count stars like sheep, waiting for him to come home all those years ago. 

He’s also not sure why it hurts so bad when he shows up and you’re not there. 

Frankie feels like he’s 16 again, sneaking into his own house in the wee hours of the night, digging the spare key out from under the doormat, attentive to the practiced pattern of how to avoid squeaks in the hinges as he turns the lock behind him, careful not to wake a single sleeping soul. He tiptoes over the 4th stair to the second floor and barely taps the 7th before he finds shelter in his room, successful from his journey. 

Every time he comes home, he can’t help but laugh at the fact his mother refuses to change anything about his bedroom. Everything is in the same place it was the day he left for the Air Force, down to the pile of unfinished homework from his Senior year of high school stacked on his desk. Each time he sees it, he’s never sure if the source of his laughter is nostalgia or irony. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

When he looks at the picture frames scattered across his nightstand, a 17 year old Frankie stares back at him, tall and gangly, arms too big for his own body, an awful haircut he begged his mom to let him get. It was the year he discovered how much he couldn’t live without a hat, simply out of necessity for the 6 months it took for his hair to grow back out. You were the first one to tell him how cute he looked in the one hat he already owned. He bought three more in the weeks to come. 

He wonders what the 17 year old in those pictures staring back at him would think of him now. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that high school him would have beat the shit out of him for the way things turned out, scrawny limbs and all. 

It seems like the military has taught him how to sleep anywhere besides his own home, keeping company with the shadows dancing on his ceiling in the moonlight, tossing and turning in the tattered sheets of the twin sized bed his mom promised she’d upgrade when he got big enough. To this day, he and his mom both know he was never begging her for a new bed because he had outgrown it, he just always wanted to make room for one more person. 

He clocks 3 and a half hours of sleep as good enough, creeping out of his house the same way he had come in, making the 5.4 mile trip to Benson Park to watch the sun rise. Frankie’s always hated running, it’s just as much of a surprise to him as it is to everyone else that he keeps doing it. It makes his knees hurt like shit and his lungs feel like they’re being strangled by rubber bands, a cruel cycle of self punishment he can’t seem to shake his addiction for. 

He’s sat on the same side of the bench underneath the ancient Blooming Dogwood since the first time he came here. He tried one time to sit on the other side. He’s superstitious enough to believe his one time fuck up has had a lasting effect. The bench is so hidden at the back of the park, he likes to think that the two of you are the only ones to have ever found it. No one else has ever burst through the bubble of secrets shared between the two of you there, leaving the wood grain to be stained with memories and moments that have shaped the both of you, good and bad. 

It’s the first place you ever told him about your dad. It’s the first place he ever told you about his. His dad was already nothing but memories by then. It makes him sick to his stomach that soon, that’s all you’ll have left, too. 

Frankie, Fall of 1999, Age 11

“How much longer do we have, Frankie? I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!” 

“Quit being such a baby, you’re fine!” 

“Next time we have to ride our bikes this far, I’m pulling an E.T. and riding in the front basket of your bike.” 

“Perfect, you look just like him.” 

“Frankie!” 

“Kidding, kidding!” 

Frankie’s never had a friend like you before. Sure, he’s got Santi, but it’s not quite the same. 

Santi took some easing into- five years ago, when Frankie moved onto Everett Street, he became a friend by force, not choice. Santi staked his claim on him, seeing Frankie as a gift sent straight from heaven, finally having another boy his age to play with after too many years of being sentenced to dress up and tea parties from his 3 older sisters. 

Santi was everything Frankie wasn’t- loud, assertive, the kind of friend who grabs you by the hand and drags you along with them whether you liked it or not. There’s times now, after a half a decade of friendship, that Frankie still questions the way Santi’s brain is wired, but Frankie’s too good of a friend to ever make a fuss about it. 

You, on the other hand, needed no easing into. From the moment he met you, watching you toss that football so far past Santi that he was convinced it would disappear on the other end of the street, Frankie had been mesmerized by you. 

There’s something about you that makes him feel a weird thump in his chest every time you’re together. Everything about you gives him comfort in a way he can’t describe, a safety he’s felt with very few other people in his life until now. 

There’s just something about you. He still hasn’t been able to quite pinpoint what it is. 

Whatever it may be, it’s enough to invite you on a bike ride to the back of Benson Park instead of Santi. 

“Do you even know where we are? I don’t think there’s any more park left past this point, Frankie.” You huff, slowing the wheels of your bike behind him as you come to the edge of a steep rolling hill, nothing left in front of you but acres of empty land and tall grass. 

“Yeah, I do. Maybe we just passed the trail on the way in. We’ll just- We can just find it on the way back.” 

He knows you know he’s fibbing, but he wants your trust that he won’t lead you astray more than he wants to tell the truth. 

“Okay. There’s a bench underneath that tree. Can we just sit for a little bit before my legs turn to jello?” 

You’re already halfway off your bike before he can respond. Even if he had said no, there’s no way he’d leave without you. 

“Fine. What flavor jello?” 

“Whatever flavor is your least favorite so you don’t eat my legs, Francisco. That’s just weird.” 

The two of you laugh, tossing your bikes to the ground as you bottoms find the wood of the bench you’d pointed out, you on the right side, Frankie on the left. 

“My mom only ever gets the red kind. I don’t even really like it that much. Don’t worry, you’re safe, Kenz.” 

“I don’t really like it either. But we have every flavor at my house ‘cause that’s like, all my dad eats.” 

Frankie starts to laugh like you’re playing a joke on him, trying to pretend your dad’s diet exists exclusively of artificially flavored gelatin, but your sudden silence and the way your voice drops to the ground right with your eyes tells him he’d better stop snickering. 

“Your dad only eats jello?” 

“Well not only, but a lot of it, I guess.” 

His face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and concern at your sadness. He’s never heard you this quiet before. 

“Um, w-why?” 

The silence is almost deafening. He’s not sure why he should be so concerned with asking about jello, but he’s too curious to let it go. He selfishly wants to know what about it makes you so upset, because he just as selfishly hopes there’s something he can do to make you feel better. 

“My dad has cancer. He’s really sick. He can’t really eat a lot, but jello’s the one thing he can keep down most of the time without, like, throwing up or whatever.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, like you’re worried someone else will hear and spill the rest of your secrets right along with this one. You say it like he’s the only one in the world you want to hear it. 

“I’m- I’m sorry. That sucks.” 

Frankie blames it on his instincts, the way his hand finds yours, outstretched on the bench. He touches you like he’s handling a baby bird who’s fallen out of its nest, delicate and careful, calculated, hoping you won’t try to fly away in fear. Instead, your hand welcomes his, scooting closer to the weight of his palm resting on top of it. He feels you give in as you let him carry you back to safety of the tree you’ve descended from. 

“It’s okay. That’s why we moved here. The doctors in Michigan said that there were even better doctors here who could maybe help make his cancer go away.” 

“And then maybe he won’t have to eat as much jello.” He takes a gamble with the joke, but it pays off with your surprised snort, “Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t be joking about it.” 

“I mean, it was, but it was funny. It’s okay, my dad jokes about it, too. He always says, one day, it’ll be funny, so might as well make that day today.” 

His heart warms as he watches a small smile return to your face. It heats the pink in his cheeks when he realizes he was the one who helped bring it back. 

“Your dad sounds nice.” 

“He is. Even though he doesn’t feel good a lot of the time, he still always tries to come to my soccer games and stuff. I know he can’t be like what he was before he was sick, but he tries to be. What about your dad?” 

Frankie prays you don’t notice the way his heart sinks like he noticed yours. He chews on the inside of his lip so hard, he thinks it may bleed. He wants to lie, but he knows that you’ll know. You always know. 

“Um, I don’t- I don’t really see my dad.” 

It’s you now who's grabbing his hand, offering him the same type of safety net he’d made for you. He’s barely known you two months. He’s known Santi for five years and all he knows is that his dad doesn’t live with him. Frankie didn’t want to tell him, he’s not sure he’d understand. There’s a strange sensation that swirls in his gut, because he wants to tell you. You’d laid the first brick in the foundation of trust between the two of you. The least he can do is help you keep building. 

“Oh. Why don’t you see him?” He sees you’re prying, but not in a way that hopes to expose him. He knows you’re prying because you want him to let you in, to get a peek at what's behind the curtain. It’s a locked door most people in his life will ever get access to, but he’ll let you have a spare set of keys. 

“I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was a baby. She says she’s always been happy it’s just me and her. That it was easier to live with one less person than to live with someone who was mean.” 

“Your mom sounds like a wise lady.” 

He appreciates the fact humor was your first response, too, it makes the sting of ripping the stitches off a still-healing wound hurt just a little less. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Still kinda wish I had a dad, though, ya know?” 

“You can borrow my dad whenever you want. As long as you don’t mind super embarrassing, stupid jokes.” 

“Are they as bad as mine?” 

“No. They’re worse.” 

Neither of you would have minded staying just a little bit longer, but the bright reds and yellows of the setting October sky remind you both that the parents you’ve opened up about are expecting you back before night washes over the quaint suburbia of your town. The bike ride home is much quieter than the one there, but the simple silence seems to speak louder than anything he’d have to say. 

The next day, Frankie would raid the cabinets of his kitchen for every last packet of jello he could find and bring them all to your front door.

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[lunaetis]

[ anyone who was there witnessing my drunk posting last night, i am very sorry. ]

[snarltoothed]

I’m not entirely sure what about my original reply may have indicated that I disagree with any statement you’ve made above (or if that’s what you’re saying?) — I’m in firm agreement that men will openly say the same things that are considered “misandric” for a woman to say and that it’s fairly common for them to be met with agreement from other men.

I think you may have perhaps misread my tone a little? (which is completely understandable, we are on the internet lol) Because I definitely don’t think men really care if women talk a little shit about them as a class as long as we’re still willing to partner with them. I was also being a little tongue-in-cheek about being a hardcore “misandrist” and “man-hater” because I know a lot of my beliefs about sex/gender-based violence aren’t actually that out of the norm (and are actually encouraged by the patriarchy), it’s that I speak on it as a woman and that I’ve decided to stop partnering with men which pushes my views into the realm of extremism in the eyes of many.

I do really appreciate your analysis that male socialization encourages this violent behavior among men toward each other and that a large part of the misogynistic backlash we are seeing from men at the moment is linked to the way the same socialization implies that they will be entitled to a wife for their submission to the workforce/military/etc. I firmly agree with that as well.

Thank you for the compassion and the understanding, genuinely <3 I’m not sure what ideologies you assume I subscribe to, but I’m glad we’ve been able to have a respectful interaction on a topic we do seem to be in a good deal of agreement on, despite any disagreements we may have on others!

I also didn’t put all that out there hoping for sympathy! 😬 I am genuinely confused about the shift among men to being this mean to each other out of jealousy on such a large scale. An unfulfilled expectation of sex and companionship just doesn’t seem like enough to reasonably push them this far… especially when I (as a person with a trauma-informed mindset regarding men and heterosexual romance) saw it and was happy for this guy!

I understand that men have weird dominance things… but like the woman in the tweet you posted said: a few years ago other guys would’ve been gassing him up and trying to make him look good in the replies! There would’ve still been some digs at his appearance, I’m sure, but a lot of those comments would’ve been along the lines of “well at least this means there’s a chance for me if this guy can get a date”… I’m just confused as to when and why they got so bitter that they’re not even trying to wingman for each other anymore… and as to how someone can have so much hate in their heart in general, lol.

I'm sorry but "male loneliness epidemic" at this point is just a catch all term for any variation of "I'm a putrid loser with a horrible personality please give me pussy and don't get an education and a independent life".

It's just making issues that are caused by modern misogyny having successfully killed men's desire to build genuine community and be vulnerable with each other somehow women's fault and responsibility to fix.

Some random dude posted a photo going on a date and dudes had nothing but venom and hatred towards him.

And as usual women were the ones who had to fix shit men started and got together clear up his mentions and tell him "hey you actually deserve to be treated like a human and not have to do something to earn basic kindness from others"

"male loneliness epidemic" is caused, worsen and exploitated BY OTHER MEN and it's not the obligation of women fix or alleviate this shit when they have absolutely nothing to do with it (specially when most of the world makes feminism and women's rights as close to illegal as they can and in the USA is a movement so undermined it can't even have success in defending a topic with 70+% popular support like Roe V Wade)

If you can't trust the men around you, if you don't feel comfortable with men around you, if you feel insecure with the men around you, step up to them or change friends, stop using women who 9 times out 10 have zero socialization or social insight to what you are going through to solve your feelings of inadequacy caused by the same gender as you at the end of the day.

[toriaanin]

Slingshot Loosed

This is a true (from my perspective) account of my recent interaction with Tif. I encourage you to read to the bottom of this post because I make a demand of Tifaine, supported with a statement of action should the demand not be taken seriously. It's a long blog post.

Some of you may remember that back in my December 23rd post "Peace before..." I promised to share a story that could quite possibly ruffle someone's feathers. A story that pits a Goliath in our Lukola/Jakola world with little ol' David-esk me. Until now, I haven't used my slingshot to strike at the giant. I certainly planned on doing so right away (Dec 23rd, in fact), but decided to sit with everything through the holidays because who wants to go into battle when Joy's North Star is shinning in the night sky?

The easiest place to begin is at the almost beginning

Two weeks ago tonight (Friday, December 20th), I was gifted with some "fun" cyber bullying and intimidation at the hands of Tif. Oh... and there was also some lovely bashing by her and her Minions that night on her Discord.

That's the almost beginning. The actual beginning was me. Yes I started this fine mess by sticking my tongue into my own cheek and calling a hypocrite a hypocrite in an IG story. Not cool on my part, and not my usual style. I'm a "working in the background to mobilize the forces" type; not a "shout across the playground and shake my fist" kinda Chickie.

So what exactly did you do, Tori and why?

Why. Like you all, I'm sick and tired of the Jakeholes... the Minions who live and speculate in Tif's discord chat, with Tif fully engaged in, feeding and encouraging the delulu-ness. Many of you know that I've moved my Lukola live streams off of TikTok because over there, the Minions would descend and cause mayhem. Those participating in chat didn't deserve the crap the Jakolas' would drop! It is my opinion (shocker) that the Jakolas should stay on their Arctic Ocean and let us Lukolas enjoy our Caribbean Sea. In my lives I'd encourage everyone to bask in our sunshine while ignoring side-characters and Jakolas. In my chat groups we collectively did the same. Yet the Jakolas continued to troll, tag Nicola in "N loves her boyfriend J!" type posts (tags she removes - tags she no longer allows, btw!), and make stupid comments on her friends' posts. Poor Louisa spent hours cleaning up the comments after sharing her 2024 photos!

Why continued. A couple weeks ago a screenshot from Tif's discord chat came to my attention. In that chat, Tif laughed at herself for playing both sides of the fandom. She said something like "Here I am saying cute things to you Jakolas, only for me to go over and say cute things to the Lukolas". I was furious that she could be so cavalier in her hypocrisy and that no one called her out for it! Everyone I know grumbles about how two-faced she is in the fandom; about how she has this unwitting group of followers who need to learn (if they didn't suspect already) who she is and how she is playing them. Like a fiddle.

What. Obviously I wasn't able to take my own advise to ignore her. I used that screenshot, added my own thoughts on the image encouraging people to not follow hypocrites, and posted it to my IG stories. Not my greatest moment.

Do I regret posting that image to my story? As a method of trying to influence and change a mindset in the fandom about her role in the divisions in our fandom; yes. And for that I extend an apology to Tif. Like I said, I prefer to work within the collective openly and honestly, sharing thoughts and opinions - making clear that they are MY thoughts, shared as information for others to make an informed opinion of their own. Throwing stones isn't useful, really. The proof is here, in this post.

Do I regret my why? Absolutely not! Tif is a hypocrite and everyone should be talking about it and unfollowing all of her platforms. This is definitely a counterproductive statement after my simple apology above. Oh well.

Needless to say, I wasn't all that surprised when Tif responded. I expected her to. What I was surprised about, however, was the gaslighting and lies she told. And that's why I'm here now, NOT working in the background within the collective... why I've decided to shout in the playground and shake my fist... why I've decided to tuck a stone into my slingshot, stand ready like David, swing that piece of leather, release the stone, and see if I can bruise Goliath enough that she'll provide me with the apology I deserve.

Below you'll find the set of IG stories that Tif posted on that Friday night, two weeks ago, along with commentary where appropriate.

On the right is my IG story post. Please note that the white block sentence at the top starting "Me..." is what Tif added. She starts her "story" by gaslighting her IG followers saying that the comment I circled (pink) is really her "being happy for Nicola and her relationship" while also saying cute things on the Lukola channel. Sure. Whatevs. But do the Lukola channel members know you're over in the Jakola chat making fun of being cute in both places, like a hypocrite? Probably not.

The next three images go together, starting with Tif circling my "don't follow fakes & hypocrites":

In order to paint me as a hypocrite, Tif finds that waaaaayyyyy back when I first started my TikToc account, in the middle of August, I followed her account. She's dredging up a follow from 4 months ago as proof that I'm a hypocrite because I follow her, one of the most popular creators (at the time) in the fandom... the person who's edits likely motivated me to even create a dreaded TT account just so that I could see them. You too? I bet so!! I've heard from many people who tell me they joined TT for edits from creators like her. And the image to the right? That's her emphasizing the "follow back" that TT automatically includes with every follow... as though I specifically ASKED her to follow me. How stupid does she think her followers are if THIS bit of gaslighting works on them?! Don't answer that in case you fell for it.

"So embarassing" Tif says.

For her perhaps. She's the gaslighting fool, and she's been caught.

Now the most important part of her stories... THE LIE

Above she states, and I quote:

...this is coming from a lady who admitted to be at the origin of a very mocky troll account about Jake.

"Admitted to"; "origin of"; "troll account about Jake".

NO. I AM NOT the creator of, or at the origin of, ANY mocky troll account about Jake. About anyone for that matter!

Just writing about this bold ass lie brings tears of anger to my eyes. Who the fuck does this woman think she is that she can blast this kind of shit all over her hugely followed IG account and not be held accountable?! A fucking hypocrite, troll, fake, cyber bully... that's who!

Who's exposing the "nonsense" now?!

Tif finishes off her harassment of me in her IG stories with the following:

This liar, this bully, says she doesn't encourage hate. Right. I have Discord screenshots that say differently. Check out this one posted in response to Tif (poster's name is blocked... for now):

Tif says not to come to her defense... but that's what her followers do, and she seems to love and crave the attention. She comes into her IG stories and laments about how everyone beats up on her, and her Minions all respond: "We love you Tif!" "They're all horrible, Tif!" And she eats up that underserved devotion like a fucking emotional vampire.

In her last story post she says all the reasons you should unfollow her. Like a typical manipulator well versed in gaslighting, she sounds very reasonable. I could almost believe her if I didn't already know that she lied about me in her IG stories, that she didn't herself say - in her own writing and words - that she plays both sides all cutsie-like, that she didn't gaslight everyone by suggesting that I requested a follow from her when TT does that automatically with every follow one receives. She recommends that those of us who feel the way I do should unfollow her. That is the most reasonable thing I've seen or heard her say, ever!

Where does that leave us? Here:

Tifaine. You owe me an apology for the lie you told about me. A loud one in your Discord. A loud one in your IG stories. Immediately. You must make haste!

If you don't offer that apology I will do everything in my power to connect with agents of Nicola and Luke to advise them that you've used their images - as evidenced above - to bully and intimidate on social media. It won't necessarily be easy for me to do, but believe me I'll make it happen! You don't deserve to share their images if you're going to do it in such a disrespectful manner! I recommend that you take this statement very, very seriously. If you don't, the result could be a cease and desist order from the pair you claim to "love".

There's a good chance that Tif won't see this post. If you know her, make sure she does. She doesn't want me to act. She really doesn't.

Tori

[jenn-ieverse]

୨ৎ. 🎧 𝇃𝄄ㅤ ઈㅤֵㅤN I K I ‹ ENHYPEN › ๋ ࣭ ⭑

AFTER HOURS

PAIRING ࿐࿔ badboy¡niki + femalereader

TROUPE ࿐࿔ badboy X class president

WARNINGS ࿐࿔ to be added

LIST ࿐࿔ PROLOGUE

A/N ࿐࿔ excited to share this with y'all !!

AFTER HOURS

“Yeah I know but—” you feel Niki nudging your feet with his, trying to distract you from your phone call. You pull the mobile away from your ear and cover the speaker with your other hand before speaking, “Just hold on a minute will you?” you glare at him hoping he would stop. “Cut the call would ya? I'm bored, come on.” a playful smirk linger on his lips as he leans in, towering over your height.

Let's go back a few hours to see how you ended up in this position.

When the homeroom teacher called to see you at lunch, you didn't think much of it. As a class president, you are ought to run a bunch of errands for the teacher so it's no surprise that you pay a visit to the staff room once every day like it's some holy temple. However today was different, you could sense it in the atmosphere the moment you stepped in through the sliding door, the uncomfortable tension.

“Sir, you asked to see me?” Mr. Choi, the homeroom teacher notices your presence and nods, “Y/N, yeah, right. Come on in.” a disturbed sigh leaves his mouth as he massages his forehead. “Is Niki present today?” and instantly you knew, today is going to be one of those days. The kind you always dreaded. “Uh— some students saw him on campus but he hasn't been in class since the morning.” you mention.

“This punk, I swear he his upto no good.” and cue a string of disappointing words targeted towards Niki Nishimura, born to a Japanese tycoon, is currently busy being a menace to the society here is Korea, here in Haelsam High School to be more precise. “Only if his father didn't have connections in the education board, I would have him thrown out!” Overtime you have developed selective hearing, you refuse to pay heed to anything that's related to a certain troublemaker.

“He needs to be taught a lesson, kids these days—” you apologetically cut the teacher's never-ending string of words, “Is there anything I can help you with?” as those words leave your mouth, you wait for him to say ‘no’ and dismiss you begrudgingly for interrupting him, not to mention the dontaksu on the lunch menu was calling your name, you could feel it in your stomach.

The moment he said ‘yes’‚ it was like sorcery, the appetite was gone. “Find Niki and have him fill out his career counseling form. I need it on my desk by tomorrow morning.” The career counseling was a mandatory process for all 12th grade students. After they fill the form, they are to have an one on one session with Mr. Choi (nightmare come true) and the homeroom teacher suggests them the universities they should aim for based on the career they want to pursue (basically another day, another way for Mr. Choi to tell you how absolutely worthless you are and if you keep these poor excuse of grades up, you'll never get into any college, forget about the good ones.)

“But sir, does he really need any? I doubt he's going to have a career set in the first place.” you know that you sound absolutely mean right now but it's something about him that brings out your worst side. “Do you think I want to sit here and even look at his face? let alone have a session? This is mandatory and the principal wants the forms by the end of this week.” Mr. Choi speaks as he shuffles through his stack of papers and finally pulls out an empty form.

“But sir, I apologize but I really don't want to be involved with him.” as you are saying those words, a cold shudder courses through your body, even imagining your past interactions with Niki. “Kang Areum want me to conduct a reelection for the place of class president.” Mr. Choi says suggestively, “Now, I am not sure about what to tell her.” he implies, fuck! “I'll do it!” you say out loud, catching the judging looks of the other teachers present in the room.

As you walk towards the secluded area behind the school building, a sense of uneasiness settles at the bottom of your stomach. A group of students smoking and laughing among themselves, suddenly go quiet. “Yo, ain't that the class pres.?” one of them says pointing the tip of his lit cigarette at you. “Have you guys seen Niki?” you try your best to maintain the firmness in your tone even though you feeling like the school outcast who is about to be bullied by the delinquents any minute now.

“Niki's got a girl? That too the class president?” another one says, blowing a drag of smoke right on your face. “Well that means she is one of us now.” the guy who was pointing the cigarette now walks up to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the group of boys. “Okay, first of all, get your hands off me.” you jerk away his heavy arm from your shoulders. “Tell me where is Niki?” you ask again, this time with more authority, also where the hell is this boy?

“Thinking of me?” a voice whispers in your ear making you flinch, there he was. Hands pushed inside the pocket of his pants, chains dangling around his neck, toothpick pressed between his lips, bleeding forehead, wait- bleeding forehead? "Your forehead-" he doesn't let you complete. "Let's get out of here, come on." he picks up your bag from the ground and swings it around his shoulder.

“You can walk along with me, ya know?” you mention as you see Niki following you from few feet behind. “I'd much rather be behind you.” you could feel the smirk on his face without having to look back. As soon as you spot a convenience store you quickly rush inside to get couple of band-aids. By the time you come out, Niki was seated at one of the plastic chairs kept adjacent to the store.

“Here.” you slide the band-aids to him from across the plastic table while taking a seat on one of the other chairs. “So why were you looking for me? I am sure it isn't to buy me band-aids.” he struggles to put the band-aid over the cut as you hold up the selfie camera of his phone in front of his face, acting as a mirror. “Yeah well, there's something I need from you.” you think of how to bring up the situation.

“Like what?” he leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “I need you to fill your career counseling form.” you wait for him to dismiss you without any regards, like he always does. But today for some reason, nothing was going as per your predictions because what Niki says next, isn't something you could've ever predicted. “What do I get in return?”

── END OF PROLOGUE

[within-your-eyes-if]

September 1st Progress Update

Hello everyone!

First, I apologize that there was no progress update for August. I took a break after the last update, and then personal matters came up, which extended it.

I'm starting to find my rhythm again, life loves to toss us into loops. I have the codes implemented and working, a few scenes done, and more revisions underway — particularly focusing on the poly routes. I wanted to share some samples today, but I want to polish things a bit more first. I'll make a random post with those soon.

Patreon: It's still in the works, I promise, but I'll be honest: I got a bit of cold feet. I had things planned out and ready to go, but self-doubt crept in. I'm working through it, and I'll probably launch it once the first chapter's new systems are fully implemented so that Patrons can check it out.

Asks: There's a lot I'm trying to consider. I'm not quite sure how I want to proceed just yet, and I'm sorry for any uncertainty. Right now, I'm trying find a balance for everything again.

Save Issues: I've received reports of save issues on mobile. This seems browser-related and not something I can fix myself. I've tested Firefox and found no issues personally. Someone on itch.io shared that Kiwi Browser and Brave work as well. Opera GX doesn't work at all, and Google Chrome seems to be random.

Anyways, it's a bore of an update and I'm sorry for that. I look forward to sharing some samples for these new systems and seeing what you think! Thank you all for your patience and support. Have a lovely month!

[barrenclan]

you dont have to publish this ask if you don't want to. but i just wanted to say that im not sure how i really feel about ranger becoming disabled and how it could kinda be read as for audience catharsis. youre a good writer and i dont want to interpret your writing in bad faith, and obviously i dont know your full intent behind the choice to blind ranger. but a lot of the audience reaction in the replies and such made me a bit uncomfortable as a visually impaired disabled person myself. disability as a punishment for evil is a pretty common (and ableist) trope. i dont think you really did it to the extent its done in other media (especially with a character like daffodilpaw as a good guy. like death, disability affects everyone, good and bad) but yeah the audience reaction made me a little uncomfortable that they were viewing it as deserved or cathartic or punishing. it especially didnt sit very well with me when paired up with hacksaw, his partner and another very evil character having lost a chunk of her wing just before. like i said at the start you dont have to publish this ask if you dont want to. i dont know how the story is going to go, and pinepaws injury could very well impact him in the future for example. but i figured i should voice my current in-the-moment discomfort, especially if it helps you in your future writing endeavors. otherwise, i really liked the new issue!

Since this was asked about twice I will go ahead and publish it; and say that firstly, I really appreciate you both bringing up your concerns and going about it in a very polite way. I don't want anyone to feel afraid to bring things up about the story or put me on a pedestal, I'm not a perfect person just because you like my stories.

And in terms of your asks themselves - I honestly do apologize that it came off that way, I didn't intend at all to play into the trope of disability as a karmic punishment for evil. I'm not disabled myself, or at least not in the visual or mobile way, so it is likely just an actual blindspot for me in terms of my writing. Disability is absolutely not a punishment for anything, and if you're blind or missing a limb there is nothing wrong with you at all.

If knowing my thought process helps at all, here's how I came to that story decision:

I want Ranger and Hacksaw to try to attack Pinepaw but both have their arrogance that's been building for the whole story checked. Also, it needs to be in some way that actually hinders them so they don't just keep attacking. -> Well, I don't want them to die, because I have things I want to do with their characters after the event ends. So, what would be an interesting and symbolic injury that takes them off the table? -> Hacksaw's main source of attacking other people is by divebombing them, so losing a wing would really impact her sense of strength. And, Ranger relies on outward control so much that losing his sight would damage a lot of his ego as well. There are some things about the characters I can't talk about just yet which, depending on your opinions, might change how you feel, but those were my general ideas.

I completely didn't realize how easy it to fall into that trope and I'm very sorry that it made you uncomfortable, that was very much not my intention. Like you said it's so normalized in media that most people don't even think about it - and certainly something I'll be more aware of next time I write anything like this.

[cheri-2047]

I have a request for, Zhongli Neuvillette and Ayato so they are forced to marry a reader, who looks a mess like their appearance and they aren't really into them. I hope I explained it properly it's hard for me at times and I got the idea when I saw some mobile game ad.

i think I know this ad LMAO, sure !! I’ll make it headcanons though cause those have been easier for me to write lately. thank you for the request!

Arranged Marriage (Zhongli , Neuvillette, Ayato)

SCENARIO: Your parents somehow got to get you an arranged marriage with these men. You grew up in a rich family, but due to a bad decision, your father’s company ended up going bankrupt. Suddenly, your mom just told you to get into the car and drove off, not knowing where you were going.

MENTIONS OF: Furina, Thoma, Ayaka

NEUVILLETTE:

When you enter the court (please tell me where he works guys in the comments, I forgot what it’s called), that’s when you realized.

“shit.”

This is the first time you’ve actually SEEN him. You felt embarrassed because your mother didn’t even let you change out of a decent pair of clothing or even fix your hair.

you quickly tried to change your appearance as much as you could. But when the Melisune opened the door, that’s when you panicked.

Neuvillette was…shocked. He was shocked to see you in a state but he didn’t show it. “Ah..I suppose you’re y/n?”

“yes… I apologize for my appearance, My mother pulled me out of my room and just forced me to leave without a word haha…” you were nervous as hell.

”I see. Nice to meet you.” He stands up and walks over to you, shaking your hand.

”I’d like to go over the terms of our marriage, nothing official just what we both are comfortable with.” Even with your messy appearance, he still treated you with grace and kindness

he asked the melusine to give you some tea, and now you Two were left alone.

”Well…I understand if you don’t want to do this at all, so during our relationship, I will not require you to be affectionate towards me.”

He sat in a chair nearby and he held your hand. “If there’s anything I am doing, or will do that makes you uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to tell me.”

“If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll have to for you.”

“if you would have…other affairs, since were not actually in love…I’m okay with it. Just be careful to not show it in public.” He understands that this is a forced marriage for you, so he tries to still let you have a normal life.

“ah no it’s okay, I’m not interested in anyone at the moment, but I…I would like to try to get this- us to work.” You smiled, and Neuvillette was touched by that.

During your marriage, you lived with him. He wasn’t extremely close to you but you could tell he was trying. On the first night you two slept beside each other but on the next one if you were uncomfy, he arranged another room for you in his mansion.

He lets you do anything really, if you want to work go ahead but if you just want to stay home that’s okay too.

Overall, he grew to like you. And the marriage was like a real thing.

Since he wouldn’t be home often, he apologizes by sending you gifts. When he notices you’re lonely, furina actually lets him have a day off.

as for affection, at most he would kiss you on the forehead or cuddle you close. He won’t force you to kiss him on the lips (since he doesn’t want to intrude on anything) so you’d have to initiate those <3

AYATO:

When you saw your car drop in front of the kamisato, that’s when you realized.

You tried to fix your appearance, tying your hair up with a desperate attempt to look more elegant.

thoma welcomed you, not gonna lie he noticed how you shuffled your clothes a lot and before taking you to ayato, he let you in a separate room.

”I don’t mean to be rude, but I noticed the way you shuffled with your clothes” he chuckled, handing you an old dress that ayaka owned, (since it didn’t fit her)

he let you changed and once you did, he brought you to ayato.

Ayato welcomed you and thoma left the room. He motioned for you to sit in front of him.

”nice to meet you” he smiled and bowed (iirc in japan they bow as a sign of respect/greeting? Please correct me if I’m wrong!)

you did the same. It was awkward for awhile until he spoke.

”I am sure you’re aware of what’s about to happen correct?” You nod. “I want to try to make this work” he said, looking straight at you.

”if… if we don’t work out that’s alright, but I’d like to know you more.” He smiled as you nodded.

”me too, I’m glad we’re on the same page” you smiled.

you two talked about your own interests, but now you had a problem.

its not that he hated you or judged you, but there are times it’s dead silent. for now he passes it off since you both are new to each other.

”well, I will have thoma show you your room and ah- no more need for formalities it’s okay”

After the marriage you move in together and though it’s still awkward, you two actually end up becoming close.

At some point, during the night when he’s working late, he actually started seeking comfort from you.

sometimes he would visit your room, if you were asleep he would sit beside you on the bed and tuck you in nicely after

or if you’re awake, you (aside from ayaka sometimes) are one of the only few who actually gets him to go to bed.

you sleep in separate rooms but one day he offers for you to sleep with him.

overall, this marriage was a success. Sometimes he’s busy but you take note of it and if he notices you’re lonely, he would invite you over to his room while he works/signs papers and he talks to you.

as for affection, he appreciates if you give him hugs but there are times (mostly when you’re away for a long period of time) when he tilts your chin up and goes “may I?” Before pressing a kiss to your lips

Sorry if I mischaracterized this, I haven’t done the inazuma quest and idk much about him !

ZHONGLI:

to your surprise, when you almost stopped in a mansion, you saw him standing outside waiting for you.

and that’s when you started to realize.

the moment you got out of the car, you fixed your dress. He was quite welcoming actually.

he welcomed you to his home and set you on the couch. He actually didn’t mind much your appearance.

he sat in front of you and smiled. “Nice to meet you” he handed you a cup of tea before you two got started.

he saw you uncomfortable shuffling around your clothes. “Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

”no no! Just fixing myself a bit, sorry” he wondered why you seemed so tense about your appearance.

”I do not care about such matters if that’s what you’re thinking” he reassured you.

”now..as for this marriage, I do not want you to feel forced. I will allow anything you’d like, if you’d have other affairs, I am okay with that.” He really just wants you to be comfy is all, especially since this was forced.

”however… I would like to get to know you more” and just like that a few months after the marriage, you two actually clicked.

often at night he’d sleep beside you, in the mornings he makes you both tea.

He’d be very respectful with boundaries and he appreciates when you respect his as well.

for dates he loves bringing you to gardens for a picnic or relaxing lakes, somewhere with nature. he hugs you a lot and kisses on your forehead. If you want a kiss on his lips, he will gladly say yes anytime of the day

A/N: OKAY. I loved writing this, I enjoyed Neuvillette and Ayato’s part, I kinda lost ideas for zhongli but THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT. Anyways thank you for requesting, I only have… 2-3 requests left until I can open them again ! I love how thoma would also be a gentleman to you idk I think he’s pretty cool this wasn’t proofread and comments are appreciated !! (Drop by for a tip, or if I mischaracyerized them or just say hi!)