#people want answers and at the same time don't

[shieldfoss]

God.

Under the cut:

Too bad we don't know because the people who did this are not interested in the truth, they're interested in getting a high number they can use for shock value and to score political points.

"Wife replacement" gets long so I'm replacing it with the letters "HA" for "home assistant."

"How much would it cost to hire an HA" is a really interesting question, and also gets you to secondary interesting sub-questions like "how much of a savings would there be if the HA lived in the same home, such that some of the labor is also 'for themself' and gets discounted to half price, and some of the salary is paid in food and lodging?" and "how much of this is actually exclusively 'for themself' and would get discounted to zero?" along with "How much would you actually pay a premium for because the HA gets to know you better than anybody else and can do the work for you better than anybody else?" Oh, and a favorite that I sometimes think about: "How much does the HA's labor free you up to do other labor you currently don't have the time/energy for, such that even paying them to do it, you end up ahead?"

Too bad we don't know because the people who did this are not interested in the truth, they're interested in getting a high number they can use for shock value and to score political points.

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Start at "private chef," they write it up as ⅙th of the (inflation-adjusted) quarter million pounds, coming out to (roughly) ₤100/day.

If you are married and, God forbid, your wife dies tomorrow, and you decide to pay somebody handle all your food needs, ₤100/day is not the correct number to budget for because they are not trying for truth, they are trying for "big number".

Have you ordered delivery lately? If you decided to replace your wife with nothing but delivery food, it would not cost you ₤100/day, it would be less than that. ₤100/day is the kind of number you get if you don't care about answering "how much would it cost to replace a wife" but instead say "what is the highest number we could justify for a wife's cooking? Clearly her cooking labor costs the same as the cost of a trained professional who does nothing else and is priced as a luxury product."

Even if you didn't factor in (and they did not) various other efficiency gains from having the same person do multiple things, that's still more than it would cost to hire an average person to do your cooking.

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There's also, and this is part of how you can tell the graph was made for political purposes rather than to answer interesting questions, there's apparently ₤0 assigned to sex workers?

There's a tired joke in here about how that's an accurate number to replace a common wife's value in bed, but if you were doing this for real and you wanted to know what the all-in cost of replacing a wife would be, you'd include that number. Leaving it out shows you're less interested in the truth and more interested in the optics of your presentation.

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If you actually did the math with truth-seeking in mind, I expect the real number would end up somewhere around 1x to 4x a year's worth of your country's minimum wage, from the following factors:

Base rate payment: 2x minimum wage - you probably don't want to pay actual minimum wage for reasons that summarize to "for this important aspect of your life, you probably want to hire somebody good enough that they have better offers than minimum wage."

You can lower it by offering lodging, but that would raise it back up as increased rent/mortgage.

You can lower it by having the children they nanny also be their children so that cost disappears, but if we're doing the "replace a dead wife" scenario, they are not.

You can raise it by having a lot of home to maintain, so you need to hire them longer or hire more people, or having a lot of ego to maintain

You can lower it by not having a lot of home to maintain, or by not having a lot of ego to stroke so they can just get to work instead of spending time managing you, but there's a lower limit here - below a certain amount of work/day, they might as well not show up (and if they're handling your every meal, they do probably need to show up every day - or at least often enough to do that food prep ahead of time so you can pop something in the microwave.

And then there's various inefficiencies - government might put sales tax on professional services, wife probably does some work even when home sick unless very sick but your HA does not do work when home sick, so that raises the cost back up again.

So, yeah, guessing somewhere 1x to 4x minimum wage, and you're paying that after-taxes of course so you'd need to earn significantly more than that to afford this.

[douqhnxtss]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ REDAMANCY ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

𝓡𝑬𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑪𝒀 (𝘯.) — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.

𝓝𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓨𝑰𝒁𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝓨𝑶𝑼 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼̧𝖺𝖽𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗎𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐— 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

✧ fluff, angst, uni & ceo au, objectification (by parents), reader has terrible parents, cold!reader, arguments, reader has self doubt & fears disappointing her parents, kissing, ft. aespa, big time skips, arranged relationship/engagement (not ningy/n), running away, reader discovering herself, jimin × minjeong, sleeping in the same bed, kisses, rich!reader, reader is lwk mean if u think about it (at the start), thriller & mystery solving undertones, complex!reader (if that makes sense), yizhou becomes a detective, proofread — transfer student!yizhou × hot nerd!reader ⋆ wc! 8.07k 𐙚𐙚 OH MY GOD. i love this sm, soz it took me 22 days to write this, like very imagine I write they keep getting longer and longer, my lord. pls enjoy this dish kira has served that she gave her heart and soul into making, likes and reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated (pls interact i cried one too many times writing this T_T) i might expand on this fic like provide moodboards, a playlist, more drabbles that branch from this fic as extra content idk lmk what I should do!!

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YOUR MIND WAS DEVOID OF THE JOY. devoid of the joy anyone would expect experiencing upon getting a perfect score on their exam, that too of physics out of all subjects.

to you, the score was just a mark of reassurance that you weren't a failure in the eyes of your parents, nothing more. you gave everyone a blank smile who congratulated you, clearly impressed.

you looked up when you heard someone clear their throat in an attempt to grasp your attention to see a somewhat unfamiliar face. you didn't know her and you couldn't place a name to her face.

she stared for a second too long, you couldn't decipher why. before you could overthink all possibilities, her smooth and calm voice introduced, "hey, i'm ning yizhou! i'm a new transfer student from china"

you nodded, not knowing what to say afterwards. she pulled a nearby seat and positioned it at the opposite end of the desk, across from you. she sat down, now at eye-level with you.

"you seem to be thriving in physics and me.. well— i'm not the best at it to put it simply." you slowly nodded again, the chance that you may have been mute struck the transfer student but she continued, "can you do me a favor, please?"

you shrugged your shoulders, "i don't tutor." her mouth fell agape, two things she was speculating both having been rejected in a short three-worded sentence. you weren't mute and you weren't a tutor either.

she went through five stages of denial, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to be tutored by the campus crush scholar everyone couldn't stop talking about. no one ever saw you talk to anyone first, when you did talk in response to someone it was always short answers and nods.

you were quiet, reserved and always calm. people loved testing you for that fact. they tried every single way to get on your nerves but not once did you raise your voice or let your reserved persona flicker to reveal who they actually thought you could be.

yizhou was one of the people who admired from afar, wondering who you were actually like when you weren't so damn cold. today, seeing her 17.5%— she knew she needed to get some help.

no one actually loved physics, most who scored between average to a little below high just studied and got it over with. they all despised the subject with a burning passion. someone who didn't despise physics, rather loved it; was of course, you.

you were one of the best at physics in town, you loved every concept, every theory, everything that summed up the contents of physics. you were more than 90% of the time the best in the state, which is why your reputation was so important.

your parents couldn't afford to have a daughter who peaked and then fell down, refusing to get up. you got scoldings for being second in the state level, you weren't just some ordinary nerd. you were always referred to as a science prodigy since you were little.

best at science when you were in middle school, best at physics in high school and currently still upholding your record at being the best at physics in university. there wasn't a day when you weren't talked about.

whether it be by the parents passing by or gossiping, the principal and teachers bragging to others, your parents flexing their perfect daughter or the others in the university who admired you.

you were practically an icon.

you didn't mind the attention, you didn't love it either. you just dealt with it and were neutral about the topic. you were known for declining almost every interaction prompted by anyone.

parties, coffee, studying, tutoring, hanging out— you never agreed. yizhou wasn't aware of that and as she sat there across from you, your furrowed brows, carefully analyzing what she must've been thinking. she knew she needed herself to become an exception to your no tutoring rule.

"please, look i'm okay with my other classes but i can't for the life of me, not struggle with physics!" she rushed out, quickly taking your hands, looking at you with the brightest, most alluring cat eyes you'd ever seen.

some students murmured, some gasped. another thing you weren't known for: physical contact. the day when you punched a boy so hard he broke his nose when he tried to pull you into an empty classroom by tugging your wrist— to confess his undying love initially, all of them knew you weren't one for physical affirmation. at all.

you should've just pulled your hands out of her hold, that's what you would've done with any other human. however, you didn't. your mind went blank, you didn't know what to do.

her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her hands that covered yours had an effect that couldn't be explained with physics, chemistry, biology, math or any other subject you could think of.

looking at her hopeless expression, you felt as if you were going to commit a sin by rejecting her polite request. you let out a sigh, not so sure why you were saying what you were, "alright, i.. i guess i'll tutor you."

her pretty brown eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face like a child who just got their favorite candy. she thanked you profusely, her hands leaving yours to clap a few times I'm excitement.

the warmth faded, leaving you looking at your colder hands. her fingers brushed past yours again when she took a pen and paper from your desk. she hurriedly scribbled something on the little sheet of paper before she handed it to you.

your gaze followed the notes content, it was her phone number and her name written below with a few sparkles and hearts drawn on. "text me whenever you have the time to discuss the schedule. bye, tutor y/n!"

she waved with her bright smile before skipping to her friend group. you read the note over and over again, a small smile curling up your lips. she seemed nice.

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"how do you love physics? it's the most boring shit ever!" yizhou dropped her head in her arms, exhausted from the never ending theories and concepts.

you lightly smiled, tapping the end of your pen on her head, "you know..." you drew out, but stopped before saying anything further. should she know about your feelings on physics?

she turned her head, looking up at you, raising her brows waiting for you to continue, "i know what?" she asked. you pondered for a few more seconds, shaking your head. her brows furrowed further.

"c'mon we're friends now, you can talk to me." she smiled, you couldn't see the smile, you knew she was by the way the skin near her eyes crinkled at the corners, chubby cheeks just visible enough to make you coo in your mind.

friend. you made a friend?

you didn't remember the last time when someone referred to you as their friend. you were a little dumbfounded, your little smile increasing at the corners at the thought before it fell again.

don't get too happy, y/n, she'll leave anyway.

she'll leave someday when she decides she deserves much better friends than an eye candy nerd who didn't know what their is to life outside of studying and presenting yourself elegantly.

for now, you chose to give her a response, "physics isn't my favorite subject," she audibly gasped, suddenly sitting up straight, this— this was tea.

her eyes were wide like she'd heard the most bizarre sentence to exist, "that's like a mathematician saying math isn't their favorite!" you only let out a little suppressed giggle at her shocked face.

"no doubt i do love physics," you said first and foremost, seeing her cringe at the statement. "but my favorite is not it." she nodded mindfully, understanding you perspective.

"so what is your favorite?" she slightly narrowed her eyes. you knew she didn't need to know anything more, "that's a conversation for another day." she gave you a little pout before she went back to the paper she was doing.

tutoring yizhou wasn't so bad. you'd rather not admit it, but you were starting to like the sessions. she cracked a few jokes here and there, sometimes spilled some hot tea about others which you never paid much mind to.

yizhou usually only spilled tea with her bestfriends, not with any student. but you weren't just some student for her, you were her friend. friends share tea, that's all, she thought.

she became even more nosy than she already was in her friend minjeong's opinion, why? she wouldn't answer. she noticed how you held eye contact when she ranted, albeit you didn't give any reactions other than nods and hums, she still liked it.

yizhou liked having your undivided attention. she chalked it up to her ego as you rarely gave anyone attention and you giving her just that made her ego jump. well her heart raced too, but you'll catch her dead actually acknowledging it at the moment.

"that's a gorgeous dress!" she exclaimed when she saw the little dress you drafted mindlessly. your eyes widened a fraction, your arm quickly covering the drawing, gulping your nerves down.

she wasn't supposed to see that. yizhou's brows furrowed when she saw your arm move to cover the dress. "it's nothing, focus on your test." you quickly ordered the chinese, your tone too precise, too calculated, as if you'd been in this situation before.

she didn't push it, opting to continue her work, though her mind was now occupied with many aswerless questions. what was wrong about doodling? maybe it was wrong for someone like you.

yizhou knew one thing was certain from the many more study sessions that followed after the dress drawing incident. you were secretive, and you were good at being secretive, also just as good at appearing perfect.

you were always the neat and perfect you. your image started to feel like it had been crafted carefully, like you'd spent years planning who to be seen as. you were strategic; every responce, answer and even laugh sounded as if it'd been planned out.

yizhou was starting to think you were a robot. she knew it wasn't true of course, but you intrigued her. you made her think so hard about you. aeri once said to her that she looked like she was stalking you.

she wasn't stalking you, why would she anyway? you just made her want to dig deeper, want to get under the bottom as to why you were so prepared for everything, like you knew every single way any conversation could flow, like you could read the minds of the people and immediately know what their intentions were.

something clicked in her brain when she was doing her homework in her room. you were mostly good at being flawless in every way— except that day.

the day when you drew the dress, that you hid as soon as she acknowledged it. that moment was a crack in your skillfully constructed persona. the dress was a small piece of who you actually were behind your picture perfect façade.

her pen stopped mid air, the realization sudden and gave her more questions and some answers to her previous ones. she saw your parents once, when they came to pick you up for whatever reason.

she saw the way your eyes darkened, turning more lifeless than they already seemed, almost like a void. your face remained stoic, hands clenched by your sides as your mum gestured for you to get in the car.

you were a puppet.

yeah, exactly! that's who you were. you were a million dollar puppet in the name of the kims' daughter. your mum and dad didn't look at you with anything, no love, no care, just blank.

you were controlled by your parents, one way or another. yizhou didn't like that. she knew she needed to help you, however, she didn't know how. she didn't know how she would break through your hard exterior to see the real you.

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slowly but surely, she tried to gather clues. she figured out that whenever your eyes would look around too much, almost as if they were searching for a card to play out of the many you'd prepared, it meant you were caught off guard.

she always payed attention, she tried her hardest to get more knowledge about you, yet with each passing day, the fire to keep searching dimmed.

she'd make a pretty good detective by the way she over-analyzed your every move. you'd make a good criminal by how nicely you portrayed yourself, knowing what to do in every situation while making sure no one caught on to your plan.

which in this setting, is you. what you are like under the puppet costume you were forced into wearing by your parents, according to yizhou's analysis and brainstorming.

she totally wasn't expecting that today she'd get a lot of answers to her previously unanswered questions. she sat on the table you two always studied at, in the far corner of the quiet library.

your attention diverted to the ring of your phone, it was your mum's call. you quickly took it, "i'll be back in a few." you spared her a glance before walking to the back exit of the library so you could talk without disturbing anyone.

yizhou nodded and went back to her work, she knew it would take a little time as it was your mum's call, she saw the caller id for a split second, she was getting observant.

the call was to inform you about a party they're hosting in honor of a new deal they just got and you needed to be there. you were taken aback, you were usually not to attend the parties.

your mum's sharp voice stated you needed to talk to the son of the opposite party they just made the deal with and hinted at a potential romantic arrangement between you two if things went according to plan, in her words.

you were infuriated to say the least; first she commanded you to attend a party, which she knew you hated, and second she was suggesting an arranged relationship. great.

the conversation ended on a terrible note, with your mum's loud orders and your quiet protests. what you said never mattered to her anyway, so now, you had a party to attend.

meanwhile, yizhou tied her hair up in a ponytail to prevent her hair from being a distraction because of the flowing wind. she yawned, tired from studying but she needed better grades, meaning she had no choice but to push through.

a few pages of your diary that you always kept near you flipped, an envelope and many pages slipping out, using the air as a medium to travel.

she shouldn't have snooped and violated your privacy, but with her recent tendencies of being overly nosy and her quest of unraveling your outer demeanor made her unconsciously reach out for the envelope and pages.

the pages— they confirmed her claim, they were a confirmation that you did indeed like drawing and fashion. she smirked knowingly seeing the countless suits, dresses, skirts, purses and pants.

the envelope— was something she didn't expect. her fingertips trailed over the edges of the envelope before she opened the flap. yizhou took out the stack of neatly arranged paper sheets covered in sketches.

sketches of her. kim y/n, the untouchable it-girl, drew sketches of her: ning yizhou, a sassy chinese transfer student.

was she dreaming?

her mouth was agape, confusion evident on her face and like with every interaction she had with you before, more questions arised that appeared to have no answer.

she saw an opportunity come to light in her mind, this could be her ticket to getting you to open up. she pretended to do her work whilst she waited for you.

you emerged from the door you went out from, eyes somehow darker than they already were, the formerly dark brown had been substituted by a gloomier, almost raven colour.

it was only when you sat down and looked forward did you see the opened envelope, numerous sketches and a yizhou who looked at you with a what is this? face like she was waiting for you to give an appropriate explanation.

"why did you snoop in my personal diary?" you didn't mean to sound so fed up, except the conversation you had prior with your mum played with your mind and the anger seeped out.

yizhou looked perplexed, "the pages and envelope flew out and i got curious." now that she thought about it, she had opened the envelope without consent.

"why are there so many sketches of me and clothing?" she got straight to point. the complexity of the situation really sunk in, there was no way to successfully cover up the fact that you loved fashion.

"that's none of your business, yizhou." you said her name for the first time. your tone was harsh, but the way her name flowed on your tongue? what was she thinking about?

you reached out to take the pages from yizhou who resisted, keeping them in a tight hold. "you can tell me. i promise i won't tell anyone!" she was not going to back down.

"this isn't something you should worry about. do your work." your voice was laced with authority and demand, which she'd normally obey though she had other plans right now.

"i want answers, y/n. don't change the topic." yizhou narrowed her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes. telling just one person won't be wrong, right?

you stayed still, contemplating every way this could play out like you did for every situation. yizhou noticed how your eyes moved around, she knew you were trying to make a decision in your mind.

she should really become a detective. was yizhou really trustworthy? you thought, you could make up an excuse right now but you'll have to come back at some point to tutor her.

you'd under no circumstances let your guard down and told anyone about your ambitions before. you were the perfect daughter of the kim's after all, your life had been planned out long before you were born. you had an path established by your parents to follow.

you let out a deep sigh, realistically speaking, what more could you do? you began from the start, from your dreams since you were little to become a fashion designer.

how your dreams were crushed over and over again, how you never had friends growing up as friends are distractions, how you had no choice but to comply to your parents' wishes.

her jaw was wide open, heart clenching as you told her how your hope and spark for having your own brand dulled, no longer having enough will power to fight back for what you love.

now, you just sketched in your free time and did what your parents wanted you to. you were just a pawn in their game of business, power and status.

yizhou was speechless, this was it. the truth she'd been hunting for the last month, her questions were answered and her heart, it was broken. she knew you weren't doing the best by your permanent gloomy eyes, yet she didn't expect it to be so upsetting.

now that she knew who you were, she wanted to help you. she wanted you to feel confident in your skills and believe in your passion. you shouldn't stop dreaming because they don't align with your parents' vision according to her.

"what if i help you?" she blurted out, only thinking about what she said when your brows furrowed, "help me in what?" you asked back. "you shouldn't give up your dreams!"

"what's gonna happen if i, let's say, actually do try reaching out to brands and showing them my designs?" you questioned, procrastination was your bestfriend and it showed.

"if they have functioning eyes, they will realize how your designs are amazing and offer you a deal, obviously!" she held up some of the pages, talking like she was stating facts.

you looked at her as if she was crazy, "there are so many ways i could be rejected and fail with this strategy." the word failure was hated upon in your dictionary as being first was always the goal for your parents.

"so? you will fall countless times and you should get up every time and learn from the fall and utilize the mistake so that you don't make it again. failing isn't bad, it's a necessary part of the journey of success."

her words stuck in your mind, they were the complete opposite of what you heard growing up. "you.. you sound too optimistic. the world isn't sunshine and rainbows; we don't live in a fantasy, this is reality where the concept of a happily ever after doesn't exist."

"your mentality needs a lot of fixing. i'm not too optimistic, you have the skill, your designs are unique and pretty. this isn't fantasy, yes i agree, but that doesn't mean you can't have a happily ever after, some don't have it but i believe you can!"

you didn't understand. why was she fighting you on this? what's her ulterior motive? there must be one, no one helps you without having a motive beneficial to them.

"you're talking nonsense. the world is dark, yizhou. your perception of the world needs a reset." your fury from earlier made your words colder and ruder, yizhou couldn't help but let a scoff slip out.

"you sound very full of yourself, y/n. i hope you do realize you're talking like how i expect your terrible parents to sound." her final sentence echoed in your brain and you stilled.

"infact, your perspective is extremely dark and dull. the world is dull but it's on you to find things to make your world colourful."

you didn't utter a word, processing the opinion. your mind went back to the rough retorts you'd spat to yizhou— recognizing the sole focus on the negativity of a topic, fixating on the cons and none of the pros, you were talking like your parents.

you never thought you'd ask such a bizarre, for you, question to anyone, yet here you were, in the library with a student you were supposed to tutor who you just told your whole life story to, asking her, "what do i do?"

yizhou's eyes lit up and a little smile made its way to her lips, "i think you should start giving your designs to major brands and collaborating with them, and at the same time slowly build your brand, plan it out, and we'll go from there."

her thought process made sense, although you weren't sure if you'd be able to do this, "this sounds good in theory, nevertheless i can't help but doubt if i have my ability to pull this off."

yizhou stood up, walking around the table and taking a seat beside you. she took both of your hands, "trust me, you can do it! i believe in you." her eyes held sincerity and warmth, a look you weren't at all used to.

"why? why do you believe me?" you muttered, voice barely audible. she smiled, "because i'm your friend, i know how you are. i know you're capable of achieving your dreams, you have that spark in you; you just need to ignite it and produce a fire."

you looked down, lips curving into a faint smile, this is what having friends is like? you actually made a real friend? "you think so?" you asked, eyes holding hesitation.

yizhou had the most hopeful grin on her face. this was the first time you'd completely let your guard down, let her lower the walls you'd mentally built around yourself. "yeah." she said.

──────── ✧✦

six months. it'd been six months since mission: freedom, named by yizhou, started. many things happened during the six months: you'd collaborated with many brands and your own was pretty much planned out, only a little more preparing as well as pulling some strings were pending.

you were condemned to around three or four dinners with your parents' business partner's son, park jihoon, which you reluctantly went to. the latter just didn't pick up on your super obvious hints that you didn't like the meetings or him.

you were now a part of yizhou's friend group, you refused to meet them at first but with her pout and cat eyes, you were left no choice. you considered all four of them your friends now.

if you'd told your self from half a year ago that you'd have four friends and a good career plan, she would've cringed and rolled her eyes internally, saying "stop talking fakery."

maybe the one above didn't like seeing you happy, you thought as you sat across from jihoon with your and his parents present, talking about the potential engagement of you two.

you wanted to dissappear. you wanted to just run away and hangout with yizhou, she was all that was on your mind. you two had gotten close. she always had your back, always there when you needed her.

she made you realize it's okay to depend on someone and not bottle up your emotions. she warped your perception of the world, showing you the colours and joys of adventure and exploration.

"y/n." your mum snapped her fingers, making you snap out of the spiral of thoughts in your head, "yes?" you straightened, looking forward to see jihoon give you a shy smile.

you now knew he picked up the hints you gave but chose to ignore them and live in delusion that you liked him when you hated as much as sparing him a little glance.

"you are happy with this decision, right?" the look your dad gave you was enough for you to know the question was only here to serve as a formality and the answer you were supposed to give was a yes.

you gulped, head starting to hurt. every time yizhou told you to rebel against them played like a broken record in you mind, however much you tried to suppress them, they didn't budge.

you nodded, knowing your words weren't on your side and you'd say something you'd regret later. your mum held a practiced smile which didn't reach her eyes, same with your dad.

jihoon and his parents were overjoyed, meaning you were the only person not actually approving of this arrangement. you wished the ground would swallow you up.

jihoon soon left with his parents, not before giving you a wink and sly grin. you gave a blank smile and immediately stood up, taking a beeline for your room as soon as they left.

you didn't know when the tears started flowing down your cheeks. you didn't know when you jumped out of your window, still in the elegant light blue dress you wore along with your plain flats.

you weren't sure where you were headed, your feet walked on accord of your heart, not your mind. you were accustomed to disregarding what your heart suggested, opting to be logical, never letting your feeling get a hold of you, but you'd changed since then.

you ended up at the door of yizhou and aeri's shared dorm, cheeks stained in tears and bottom lip quivering. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks, trying to rid them of the dried tears the best you could.

after a few knocks by you, a drained yizhou opened the door. her eyes were as wide as saucers when she took in your dolled up but tear stained and bummed self.

she didn't say anything and instead firstly ushered you inside, locking the main door behind her. she guided you to her room, gesturing to aeri who sat on the couch with a wide mouth at your appearance that she'll tell her later.

yizhou sat you down, giving you a cup of water and then sitting down on her bed with you. "so, what happened?" she asked, tone laced with worry, bottom lip in hostage of her teeth.

you told her everything that went down hours ago, she was flabbergasted. she thought these dinners you went to weren't serious and were just there to make sure your parents were occupied so that mission: freedom didn't face any problems.

"why did you agree?" she shrieked, fury swirled in her, each sentence that left your mouth only feuled the rage. "what could i do?" you had your head in your hands, it felt like your head on the verge of exploding.

she knew what she was about to say was dumb. so dumb. incredulously dumb. though it sounded the best and most logical, she didn't like seeing you upset like this because your parents can't stand to see their daughter happy.

"how about you run away?"

your head snapped to her, your gaze saying are you serious right now? she clapped her hands, "listen, you have a ton of inheritance money right?" she asked, mentally fitting the pieces of your puzzle of life.

you nodded. you were given a hefty allowance and had inherited a great sum from your grandparents from both sides, you had your own bank account that included all the cash.

"you go back, pack your clothes, tell your parents that you don't want to marry that jiyeon-jihoon whatever his name is, we both know they'll disagree. then you say i've had enough of being your doll, i'm leaving and shit. after all that, you leave and stay with me, i'll arrange everything here."

she said it so nonchalantly like she didn't just tell you to get yourself disowned. "i don't know if i can talk back to them. also i don't want to burden you." you'd never done anything out of line, you were always doing what they wanted you to, always tried to please them, even when you knew they wouldn't say any encouraging words.

nothing was ever enough for them.

"you'll have to, y/n. i know you can do it. i believe in you. and you're not a burden, don't think of yourself that way." she squeezed your shoulder encouragingly. "you do, but i don't believe in myself, ning."

"don't worry, i'll have enough faith in you for the both of us!" yizhou giggled and leaned in to give you a warm hug. your hands hesitantly wrapped around her. you'd only gave eachother a hug a few times before, each time a little less awkward than the last.

you pulled away, muttering a "okay, i'll do it." she looked at you, eyes having an unreadable expression. you couldn't register when she leaned in, realizing she just kissed your forehead when a strand of her hair tickled your cheek.

"i know you have it in you, my star."

the nickname sounded almost melodic, like a symphony you'd instantly fell in love with. "my star?" you asked, tilting your head. an overwhelmingly lovely feeling bloomed in yizhou's chest at the sight.

she hoped her cheeks weren't flushed or if they were, you didn't notice, "like the nickname?" you nodded, a bright smile on your face. the upcoming storm you could feel brewing didn't matter at all when yizhou was here with you.

"i'll get going now." you said and stood up, smoothing your dress our of habit. "nice dress." she said, you giving her a shy thank you in return, you were never good with compliments, having not received many by the people you cared most about in your upbringing.

you gave aeri a wave on your way out, her reciprocating the gesture with a smile. you didn't mention the kiss nor did yizhou when you left. she hoped you wouldn't ask, as she didn't know why she did that either.

you took the few pairs of clothes you actually liked wearing, leaving the closet still more than half full which were all the clothes your parents made you wear.

you packed your bag, a million thoughts and possibilities running through your head. should you really do this? should you burden yizhou? you wanted to think of every outcome, but you resisted, you needed to think of the future, you were not going to marry jihoon.

you changed into regular blue jeans and a white button up, slinging your bag around your shoulder after stuffing your phone, charger and a few essentials in the bag.

you composed yourself, your nerves were slowly getting to you, anxiety creeping up in your body. you thought of the freedom you'd started wishing for that you'd finally have after this and descended the stairs.

your mum and dad were both on the couch, discussing something amongst themselves when you stood infront of them. their attention diverted to you. your mum gave you a distasteful look as she eyed your outfit.

"what is this?" your dad asked, his deep voice ringing in your ears. you took a deep breath, repeating the sentence in your head before you spoke it out loud, "i don't want to marry jihoon."

the silence that followed the blatant statement was suffocating. it was like they were waiting for you to take back your words or say that you actually meant i do want to marry jihoon.

"what?" your mum broke the tense atmosphere. "i said i'm against this arranged marriage." you repeated your words, more confidently this time.

"i hope you're aware of what you're saying, y/n." your dad said, you could see through him, through his eyes which appeared their usual brown but had underlying greed.

your dad wasn't happy as this could break his deal, not because his daughter is going against him, against his morals. that's when it hit you like a punch in the gut, you really were just a moneymaker they were investing in by giving you the title of their daughter.

the years of bitter words you'd kept hidden about them and their unbothered gazes now were enough to break the little patience you had.

your mum stood up and walked over to you, "you will be his wife." you gritted your teeth, you were done. they were no one to treat you like this, you were done with tolerating their narcissistic, greedy and self-absorved selves.

"i'm done being the picture-perfect daughter you want me to be. i will not marry him and i certainly won't give up my dreams to follow your path and become equally as terrible as you are."

you wanted to say more, wanted to voice your frustration you'd skillfully hid for years, yet your flow was broken by your mum's hand meeting your cheek. your head whipped to the side, mouth agape.

"since you've learned to talk back and be an ungrateful brat, you'll learn to live as an orphan." your mum spat out. you neither replied nor cried, you weren't fazed by being a disappointment in their eyes anymore.

"leave, you're not my daughter." your father ended the conversation and you nodded. your mum huffed, "enjoy being a nobody, you're nothing without us."

you scoffed, a smirk on your face as you spoke, "good challenge, i'd love to prove your controlling bitchy self wrong." you didn't say anything further, you didn't wait for them to talk either.

you walked out the main door, leaving your twisted parents and past behind, ready to embrace everything you loved and cherished.

the feeling of freedom spread through your veins, it felt like you'd escaped from your personal prison that you'd lived in since you were born.

yizhou and aeri both welcomed you with open arms when you reached their dorm for the second time that night. you gave them a tired smile and thanked the two profusely.

yizhou had placed blankets and a few pillows on the couch, "i'll be sleeping here, you'll sleep in my room." your brows furrowed, "what do you mean you're going to sleep on the couch?"

"it's just for this night, i talked to jimin she'll arrange a bunk bed on top of mine in my room tomorrow." she talked like it was the most normal thing to sleep on the couch.

well, it was for her. for you? terrible, something you'd not done before and you couldn't stand to see her sleep there for you. "no, it's your dorm, i'll sleep on the couch."

past you would've rather died than have said that.

"what, no! you're not sleeping there!" she exclaimed, aeri just shot a knowing glance to yizhou, who glared at her. "how about you two sleep in the same bed, it's not that small."

aeri's voice brought a little pause of silence. yizhou spoke, "yeah, i don't mind. we can if you're okay with it, star." the assertive sentence paired with the nickname made your mind go blank for a second.

you didn't want her to sleep there and she didn't want you to sleep there whatsoever, the only other thing was for you two to sleep together as you didn't like the idea of her or you going to sleep with aeri too.

"okay." you said, running your hand through your hair in an attempt to camouflage the heat on your cheeks. you tried but aeri saw the redness on your ears and smirked to herself.

"it's settled then, good night you two, i'm off." aeri teasingly winked at yizhou, which went unbeknownst to you. she took the blankets and you took the pillows. you trailed behind yizhou to her room.

you two layed down, turning off the lamp, darkness enveloping the room. yizhou was exhausted and slept in the matter of a few minutes maximum and you were still wide awake.

your mind referred back to the hours prior, the little part of you that still loved them resurfaced even though you tried to bury it, tears were welling up in your eyes.

you wiped them with your hand, you did what you did for your future. you were now free, you didn't need to be flawless or perfect anymore; you could be you.

──────── ✧✦

a year. the earth had completed a full revolution around the sun since you left your then house. your inherited money and the money you got from your collaborations were enough for you to live without having to work another job.

in the past year, you graduated two years earlier, at the same time as aeri and jimin. you also officially started your own brand, named luciscura.

the word meant the light born from the shadows. it represented you, how you used to live in a dark world, in your parents' shadows and how with yizhou, you shined, you saw your own potential and turned your world vivid.

yizhou was in her third year and minjeong was in her last year. you still helped yizhou whenever she needed help in physics while you worked on your brand.

luciscura was a rapidly growing clothing brand, known for its chic, timeless and diverse style. the brand sold classy dresses, grunge pants, tops, bags, heels, everything anyone could think of.

you never ran out of ideas when it came to fashion. you were also quite popular on Instagram, known as the young and rich ceo and fashion designer on social media.

your instagram had a large following, though you only posted once every month. you were loved by everyone, like you were in university, but this time it was different.

everyone loved who you were, not the perfect image you presented of yourself in uni. you liked it that way. you'd also moved into a new appartment.

after aeri and jimin graduated, leaving yizhou and minjeong, the two started living in one dorm. aeri, an art major, was now one of the models of luciscura and jimin, a fashion design major, was also a part of your team.

the two loved working with you, you'd practically became one of them now, you proudly referred to them as your bestfriends. you were still quiet and preferred your small circle of friends.

you loved the new life you'd made for yourself. you were as content as you could be in the moment. you did face struggles still, regarding your brand and your parents.

your parents tried to meddle in your brand and sabotage it, however, as it goes— cunning parents raise even more cunning children, you didn't fall into their trap, it wasn't easy to fight against their corporation that had been there for generations, but you gave it your all.

you fought for luciscura, the brand you'd spent blood, sweat and tears making. jihoon sometimes dropped by your office too, in the name of a business deal and you did merely that, treated the meeting like you would a business meeting, though he tried to chat with you.

he tried to ask you out and you disagreed to his face, you told him you never liked him. he blew up, saying he liked you better when you were kinder. you said too bad. she's gone now.

many other fashion brands tried to get in your way, but what they didn't know was the fact that you were incredibly smart and strategizing was second nature to you. they posed a threat, you bit back, hard.

no matter what situation you were in, yizhou was there by your side. in the lows and the highs, when you were stressed or overjoyed, she was there. she was always there.

she never lost faith in you. you lost faith in yourself, but she didn't. she reminded you of how far you've come, how proud she was of you. she was there for you whenever you needed her.

you thought she did so because she was your bestfriend, and it made you mad at yourself for feeling the way you felt. you hated how much you liked, heck maybe even loved yizhou.

it was your birthday. you didn't even remember it, only apprehending you'd turned twenty one when yizhou walked in, cake in her hands. she looked at you like you were a alien when you told her you didn't know why she had a cake with her.

"you know, you're the first person i've seen who doesn't remember their birthday, star." she shook her head in disapproval. you shrugged with a smile, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"happy birthday, my star." she wished you, feeding you a piece of the cake she'd made herself, it was a little too sweet for you but you talked about it as if it was the best thing you'd tasted in your life.

"what's my gift?" you asked, tilting your head. she couldn't help but giggle, looking endearingly at you. she always referred to you as the gentle giant, as you were the tallest out of you five but with her, you were the most gentle and caring person.

"close your eyes," she began. you complied, she waved her hand infront of your eyes, checking to see if your eyes were actually closed. once she was sure, she bit her lip.

what she was about to do would either make her the happiest girl in the world or ruin the most ethereal friendship she's had in her entire life of twenty one and a half years.

she stood on her tippy toes, her hands cupping your face. you didn't know what was happening, you could feel her breath ghosting on your lips. yizhou leaned in, connecting her lips with yours.

you gasped, you didn't know what to do, you hadn't kissed anyone before. she knew the fact and swiped her thumb over your cheek encouragingly, making you slowly relax in her hold.

your hands hesitantly rested on her waist. you eventually got a hang of it, following the rhythm she'd set. she pulled away, butterflies dancing in her stomach and you hoped she didn't hear your heart which was racing a mile a minute.

"so, how's the present?" she asked breathlessly, her hands looping around your neck. "the best i've ever gotten." you giggled, letting your head fall in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

her scent filled up your senses, overwhelming you in the most amazing way. "i love you, my star." you didn't know how to reply to her confession.

it seemed like she sensed your difficulty in expressing yourself, "it's okay, you don't have to confess right now, i'll wait for you." she twirled a strand of your hair.

"i, i love.. i love you too." you said, you voice was muffled but she heard it. her mind went haywire then and there, she needed to hear the sentence from you again.

she cupped your face again, pulling you out of the position you were in, "say that again, please." the way she asked so gently and how her hold was so soft and delicate, it was like she feared you'd break if she held you too hard.

your cheeks were dusted bright pink, ears also red, "i said, i love you." she kissed you again. and again, and another time. she couldn't get enough of you.

the night was enchanting, knowing she loved you the way you loved her, you couldn't be happier. your heart felt elated, contented, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced before.

at some point, slowly but surely, luciscura grew, flourishing into one of the mainstream brands. yizhou at last graduated and it'd now been two years since you two started dating.

you were pleased. you were living your dream life. you were the ceo of one of the most iconic and popular fashion brands, luciscura; you had three beatfriends you'd never forget and you had the love of your life, yizhou.

somewhere along the way, jimin and minjeong began dating while aeri was happy with her single, model life. you couldn't wish for anything more than what you had.

you wouldn't trade your loved ones and luciscura for the world. your parents now wanted you back, but you knew better, they just wanted your money.

jihoon also tried to chase you, you had enough of it and one such time, kissed yizhou infront of him. that was enough to shut him up and get him off of you.

you and yizhou moved in together into a new appartment. she now ran a bakery along with minjeong. it was close to luciscura, which made it easier for you and jimin to visit yizhou and minjeong in between little breaks.

"happy second year anniversary, my darling." you kissed yizhou and gestured for her to look at your queen sized bed, filled to the brim with boxes.

you handed her a bouquet of silk ribbon roses you'd made yourself, "made this myself, all for you." she was lovestruck. she jumped into your arms, you twirling her around, your and her giggles mixing and filling the room.

"you're the best, i love you so much, happy anniversary!" yizhou pulled you in with the collar of your shirt with one hand while the other held the bouquet after you set her down.

she kissed you passionately, your hands already on her hips, lost in the feeling. "thank you so much, my star." she kissed you all over your face, making you giggle more.

"no, i should thank you. all that i am, it's all because of you, i'm nothing without you, my darling." you left a lingering kiss on her forehead before you pecked her again, your foreheads touching.

the day was perfect, you knew that if you'd told the y/n who was still in her first year three and a half years ago that this would be her life, she'd actually cry.

you would forever be thankful to your darling, your yizhou, for coming up to you after failing her physics exam. if it weren't for her being new and not knowing better, you wouldn't have been here.

your love for yizhou was everlasting. she was the love of your life, she taught you something no one else could. she taught you the act of loving in return.

ning yizhou taught you redamancy.

you showed her the most dreamy and ethereal example of redamancy you knew— the love you sacred in your heart for her.

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[lazysoulwriter]

the love we hide. - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, honey. thank you for sending.

----

You always knew dating Pedro Pascal wouldn’t be easy. Not because he made it difficult — if anything, he made it feel like the most natural thing in the world. It was the world around him, the world that didn't stop spinning faster and louder with every new movie, every new award, every new headline with his name in bold letters.

From the start, he had asked for your privacy. "I just... want this to stay ours for as long as we can," he'd whispered one night, arms wrapped tightly around you, voice heavy with something that felt like fear. And you agreed. Happily. Proudly. You understood.

But lately... it had started to hurt.

The more his fame grew, the more invisible you felt. He walked red carpets with stunning co-stars, smiled in interviews when asked about his love life ("I'm married to my work," he'd joke), and your phone buzzed with articles, photos, videos of him living a life you weren’t allowed to share publicly.

And no matter how much you told yourself you were strong enough, you started pulling away. Little by little.

Skipping dates under the excuse of being tired. Replying to his texts hours later. Letting your hand fall from his when no one was watching. Convincing yourself it would hurt less this way. That he wouldn't even notice.

Of course, Pedro noticed. Pedro always noticed you. Every blink, every breath, every tremor in your voice. You were his favorite story to read.

It all came crashing down on a quiet Tuesday night. You were supposed to have dinner at his place — just the two of you, homemade pasta, a bottle of wine. Your favorite kind of night.

But you canceled, blaming a headache. And when you didn't answer his third call, he showed up at your apartment, heart pounding, palms sweating.

You opened the door, still in your pajamas, surprised and guilty at the same time.

"Pedro—what are you doing here?"

He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, eyes scanning you, searching for something. "Why are you doing this?" he asked softly.

You swallowed hard. "Doing what?"

He laughed, but there was no joy in it. Only hurt. "You think I don't see it? You think I don't feel you slipping away from me?"

Tears burned the back of your eyes, but you blinked them away. "It's better this way," you whispered. "For who?" he demanded. "For you!" you snapped, voice cracking. "You're becoming Pedro Pascal. You deserve someone who can stand next to you, someone who belongs in your world. Not someone you have to hide."

Silence. Heavy. Devastating.

Pedro stepped closer, closing the space between you with careful, deliberate steps. His hands framed your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t even realize had started to fall.

"You think I’m hiding you because I'm ashamed?" he asked, voice breaking. "You think I don’t want the whole damn world to know you're mine?"

You shook your head helplessly, but he wasn’t finished.

"I was trying to protect us," he whispered. "Protect you. From the cameras, from the gossip, from people who don't know anything about how beautiful and strong and perfect you are."

You let out a broken sob, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you like he'd never let go. Like he couldn't.

"I notice everything about you," he said into your hair. "Every smile you force. Every time you don't call me 'love' like you used to. Every night I sleep in an empty bed because you're trying to convince yourself I’m better off without you."

You clung to him, sobbing now, your heart cracking wide open. "I'm sorry," you choked out.

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids. "Don't be sorry," he whispered. "Just stay. Stay with me."

You nodded against his chest, breathing him in like he was the only air you needed. "I love you," you said, and his body trembled with the weight of it.

"I love you," he echoed. "So much. So much that I can't—"

He pulled back slightly, enough to reach into his jacket pocket.

Your breath caught when you saw the small velvet box.

Pedro smiled through the tears shining in his eyes. "I was going to wait," he said. "I had a whole plan. Paris. Fireworks. The whole cheesy thing."

You laughed wetly, heart hammering against your ribs.

"But I don't want to wait," he said, voice steady. "I don't want to hide. I don't want to spend another second making you feel like you're not everything I've ever dreamed of."

He opened the box. Inside, a delicate, breathtaking ring sparkled under your living room light.

"Marry me," he said simply. "Let’s tell the whole world you're mine."

You gasped, a hand flying to your mouth.

"Yes," you whispered, before throwing your arms around him. "Yes, Pedro. A thousand times yes."

He kissed you like it was the first time, the last time, and everything in between. When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling that soft, boyish smile that had made you fall in love with him in the first place.

"Tomorrow," he said, "I'm posting about you. About us. About my fiancée."

You laughed, giddy and overwhelmed and so, so in love. "Are you sure?" you teased. "Might ruin your mysterious reputation."

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're worth ruining everything for."

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it. With your whole heart.

----

[disparatemind]

The video is half an hour long and this is my first time watching the whole thing, but every single question Dee Snyder was asked ultimately came back to two points (from my understanding of everything):

1) whose responsibility is it to make sure "the children" aren't listening to something indecent or inappropriate, that may glorify sadomasochism and devil worship?

2) do you believe that, as a parent, it's realistic to listen to everything your child does so you can make sure they're not listening to the wrong stuff?

As a parent, this pissed me off because the obvious answer to me is this: YOU ARE THE PARENT. YES IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO LISTEN TO SHIT IF YOU'RE CONCERNED THAT IT MAY BE SOMETHING YOU DON'T WANT YOUR CHILD LISTENING TO.

I'll even use the same points the senators did. Does a song called "Purple Rain" make you think it's talking about masturbation, just from the title? No. But if you walk by your kid's room and hear it blasting and you realize those are not lyrics you want your kid listening to? At that point you TALK TO YOUR KID and be like "hey, I don't want you listening to this kind of stuff yet, you're still too young."

Do parental advisory labels help? Yes they do (thanks Eminem). But guess what? As a parent, it's still MY job to make sure what my kid listens to is age appropriate.

I firmly believe that the type of people who are calling Dee Snyder "woke" nowadays bc he's putting them straight on what the song is actually about, are the same type of people who he sat in front of back then, trying to call his music something it isn't.

[insertdisc5]

hi! you've said the artbook isn't a limited release and that it'll be available forever, so do you know how long it might be until it gets restocked? i JUST played ISAT for the first time this month, fell absolutely in love with it immediately, and then finished it at around the same time the book started shipping out. i already knew i wanted it and that i wanted a physical copy because i collect art books for my favorite media, but i wanted to wait and make sure i still had the money after going to a con this past weekend and now it's sold out!! i understand if you don't know or just can't answer this. i also want you to know that i've been being so annoying about ISAT that i've convinced 3 different people to wishlist it on steam.

wuh. lol ill ask and ill let yall know once i hear more!!!

[baksuz-art]

please read the warning, in case you might be sensitive to any of the following: mentions of poverty, non-graphic mentions of health issues, non-graphic mention of a dead animal, people being asses to others in general. sorry, this isn't very live laugh love of me, but it's important. i will keep it short and simple, and i'll try to keep it gentle too. no people, places, sites, etc will be named. lately, i'm not very happy with how some people are treating me. the asks you see on my blog are filtered, of course - you only see me answer to people who are at least able to say please and thank you, aka: decent people. i never have and never will expect anyone to kiss the ground over which i walk, but i don't think it's too much to expect basic manners. what you don't see are tons, and i mean it when i say tons of people who barely treat me like i'm a human. they demand i create for them as if it's my duty to do so. they are very rude in their messages, often requesting things i don't even do. they try to hurry me up, as if i don't have my own life or if i can't be doing something else. they demand i push them forward in the queue. they rudely ask 'where the hell is it already'. some were quite insensitive in their messages when they request i draw their cats - telling me how they don't love their cats, or were thinking of getting rid of them, or prefer some other pet over their cat, etc, which was all enough to pretty much ruin my day. one motherfucker sent me a photo of their (?) dead cat... as if that's not enough, even though i am a small creator, i have seen people reposting my art without credit, and i have seen one (at least?) person redistributing my colouring pages of all things, which i was sharing for fucking free+. i wanted to be kind and to make people smile. but it seems that some people confuse that for me being an art dispenser. i hate to say it, but i won't be able to keep doing art for free. it's not financially sustainable - it's not just art that i won't be able to do if i keep skipping meals or if i keep missing doctor appointments because i can't afford them, or if i end up unable to buy next T dose. it's also not sustainable for my mental health. imagine how shit it felt to sit with 5$ on my card while people treated me like i'm a machine and sold stuff that i was sharing for free+. imagine someone walking up to you, telling you that your work is worthless, and then taking it anyway. sure, this may change nothing in the end; but even if i never get a single commission again or a single tip, at least i'll be poor while doing whatever i want and without listening to people treat me like dirt. to those who haven't received their askbox drawing - sorry; i don't even know how many of you there are exactly or who everyone is, because there's just... so many of them, man. this isn't easy for me to say, but i will have to be more careful with how i share my art, and i have to value my time and effort the same i value everyone else's. to those who have supported me, even in small ways - thank you, you have no idea how much it means to me.

[hleep]

Honestly the "toxic" PV (Yk the one who doesn't let your leg heal) Is such an interesting idea. And it would be so freaking cool if it was like a fanfiction for some reason (even if it would be a oneshot) like the idea is super freaking creative.

(also love your art, super scroumcshous 😋)

Thanks so much anonymous, it's been a long time since I've written a fic, I hope you enjoy it!

Yandere Pure Vanilla x reader

⚠Yandere,Intentional harm⚠

"I'm sorry. reader… I don't think I can heal this wound."

Where did it all go wrong? The reader began to jog down memory lane.

The reader was an adventurous cookie. Reader spent more time outside on adventures than in one place, and one of her favorite things to do was to always mark her map with a red pen to see where she had been. It was during the adventure that the reader met Pure Vanilla. Pure Vanilla is a Healer who can't attack, so he was having a hard time withstanding the cake monster's attack, and a reader who saw it saved him. They had different destinations, but they were on the same path, so they decided to travel together. Their time together was not long. Only a month or so. But Pure Vanilla seemed to like her very much. He said he was sorry to see her go, and the reader soothed him until they were about to go their separate ways. Until the last moment, he asked her not to forget him and to reply to his letters in the future. She did not forget it and replied to the letters that came to her.

…To be honest, reader was a little lax about responding to letters. It's not that she didn't respond at all, of course, but she was so lax that for every three letters she received, she only responded to one. Of course, this doesn't mean that reader will ignore Pure Vanilla's letters for no reason. As I said, they were only together for a month. For a reader who is always traveling and adventuring, a month is a very short time. In her adventures, reader had met and lost many people, and since that was the case with Pure Vanilla, he figured they'd get over each other quickly. At least, that's what the reader thought. For these reasons, the reader has been slow to respond to letters, and sometimes doesn't even bother answering them. After a few years of correspondence, the reader receives a new letter.

'Dear My Friend

Hello my friend, are you still adventuring? I've had to stop adventuring now, because I've built a kingdom. It's a vanilla kingdom, and if you don't mind, I'd love for you to come and visit me, because I'll welcome you no matter what. I miss you so much, and I want to tell you all the stories I can, and I want to see your face after all these years. I'll keep waiting for you in my kingdom.

Your pure vanilla.'

The reader was intrigued by the letter and set her next adventure to the Vanilla Kingdom. Like his letter, he welcomed her as soon as he heard she was coming.

"You're here, my friend! I'm so happy for you. Come on in. Let me introduce you to my kingdom!"

He greeted the reader with the joy of a child receiving a birthday present. The reader was pleased at first. The Vanilla Kingdom was not dangerous enough for adventure, but the people were nice and gentle, and seeing Pure Vanilla after all these years gave him plenty to talk about, so he always organized small tea parties. But Reader's joy was short-lived. Reader was a naturally adventurous cookie. Safe and bland meant boring to her. Increasingly, reader preferred exploring the nearby terrain of the Vanilla Kingdom or caving adventures to Pure Vanilla's chats and walks. Pure Vanilla expressed concern about this, but she wasn't pushy or aggressive, so the reader simply ignored him advice.

"My dear. I'm so worried about you. You always venture out alone and recklessly, and you don't seek medical attention in a timely manner. Yesterday you were attacked in the shoulder by a cake monster and spilled a lot of jam."

"That's a silly worry, Pure Vanilla. I've been adventuring and traveling alone for years. I'm a veteran."

When the reader unilaterally cut off the conversation and was about to venture off, Pure Vanilla hastily grabbed her wrist and said.

"I'm sorry. But I can't help but worry about you. Besides, your wounds haven't healed yet. Can't you stay in the castle and not venture out today?"

"No."

"I'll make your favorite food for dinner tonight. Let's take a walk in the garden and take a nap together today."

"Stop"

"You've been so adventurous lately, you haven't been able to cuddle up and read together, so why not give each other a hug? There are lots of fun things to do in the castle!"

"Pure Vanilla!"

"……."

Pure Vanilla flinched at the reader's short, bold words, increasing the strength of the grip on her wrist.

"I don't know what's wrong with you now. You already know I'm adventurous, and I've survived so far. You should worry less."

The reader left him alone and left the castle. The reader did not see Pure Vanilla with his eyes open and his fists balled into fists. Then that day, the reader suffered an unexpected injury.

During a confrontation with the Cake Monster, he was hit in the wrist, leaving him with a temporary loss of use of his wrist. Pure Vanilla grieved as if it were her own sin, and only became okay when the reader soothed him. While her wrist healed, he helped her with small tasks like cutting meat with a knife and picking up objects. At first, he felt guilty every time he saw her scars, but in time he looked at her wrist with a smile, happy that she was only in the castle with him and dependent on him.

"I want you to keep needing me."

"You do your thing. I'm fine."

Reader smiled and stroked his head with her free hand. He leaned into her, enjoying her touch like a puppy. Still, Pure Vanilla is eagerly flipping through the pages of the book. at the reader's pace.

"I want to stay like this forever."

At his words, 'for the rest of my life,' the reader spoke up as if a thought had occurred to him.

"Now, when this wrist is healed, I'm leaving."

"W-Why?!"

Pure Vanilla, who had been meekly accepting her stroking, jumped up at the reader's abruptness and asked.

"Now that I've explored the entire area around the vanilla kingdom, there's nowhere to adventure around here. Now look at this!"

The reader stood up and pulled out a huge map from his bag. It was a map of the land near the Vanilla Kingdom, and it was all checkmarked in bright red. Fear flashed across Pure Vanilla's face, and the reader, not noticing his expression, began to ramble on.

"I'm going to go somewhere else now. I'd like to go to the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Legend has it there's a dragon… Oh, I'd also like to visit the Golden Cheese Kingdom. I heard there's a greedy king…!"

The reader was more excited than ever. Pure Vanilla was glad to see her smile, but right now she felt more fear than joy.

"B-But you're leaving me already like this? There's still so much I want to show you and be with you…."

Pure Vanilla grabbed the end of her sleeve as if she were dangling. The reader said, shaking off Pure Vanilla's hand quite easily.

"We've been together for three months now! and this is the first time I've ever settled in one place this long."

"B-But you…"

"I can't stay here forever because I have to have adventures, Pure Vanilla. …Actually, I should have left already, but I'm still here because of my wrist injury. Okay? Please understand me."

The reader thought the story was now over and tried to get up from her seat. But Pure Vanilla grabbed her.

"…..just."

"What?"

"Can't you just stop adventuring and stay here with me? I'll try not to bore you….Please?"

"No."

The reader said flatly. Pure Vanilla didn't give up and kept talking.

"….I-I know your sense of adventure is very strong… But I want to stay with you, too. What can I do to make you stay with me? What do you want? I'll do everything I can!"

"No matter what you do, it won't change, because I was born for adventure! I'll keep adventuring until my LEGS give out!"

The reader pointed to her own two legs, which had carried him through decades of adventure. Pure Vanilla looked at her legs blankly.

"….LEGS."

"yes! LEGS! I will not stop until my legs are broken!"

The reader walked away with a big smile on his face. Pure Vanilla didn't catch the reader. Pure Vanilla sat still in his seat and continued to think about what she had said to him. The reader thought she did a good job of convincing him. But what she overlooked was that Pure Vanilla didn't say 'yes'.

…In time, reader's wrist healed, and as soon as it did, she packed up and set out on her adventure again. Pure Vanilla followed her to the gates and saw her off. The reader thought he would persuade her to the end, but to her surprise, Pure Vanilla let her go, and the reader was delighted and decided to reply to his letters more often.

"See you again my dear."

"yes, Pure Vanilla"

Pure Vanilla stood still and waved at her, and she waved back, and that was the end of their meeting…..

It would have been nice.

The reader had just left the Vanilla Kingdom when she encountered a giant cake monster. She hadn't expected to see one in the Vanilla Kingdom, as there were only small or weak cake monsters near the Vanilla Kingdom, so she was caught off guard. The giant cake monster caught her off guard and delivered a fatal blow. The reader was attacked by the cake monster, knocked out, and woke up in Pure Vanilla's bedroom. Pure Vanilla explained that he was out for a walk and found the reader passed out. The giant cake monster was defeated by Pure Vanilla and he said that he carried the reader here. The reader thanked him and rested in Pure Vanilla's room until the wounds on his body healed.

Time passes and the reader's body feels better, but her left ankle is the only one that hasn't healed properly. Until the rest of her body healed, her left ankle was limp and weak, making it difficult for her to walk without someone supporting her. Fast running was her longtime hobby. But now she can't even walk properly and spends most of her time sitting in a chair or lying in bed. She was so frustrated. She just wants to be healed and get out of there, but for some reason, Pure Vanilla ignores her leg wound. The reader eventually gets angry and asks Pure Vanilla pointedly about the wound…

"….I-I've tried everything I can think of, but it's impossible. I can't find a way to cure your leg."

And this is the answer she received. This is the reward she has been waiting for all this time. This is the end of her existence, existing only to adventure for adventure's sake. If it had been her carelessness, she would have accepted it all with humility. But it wasn't, and she knows it instinctively. that someone did this to her. How else could such a rampaging, giant cake monster exist in the mild climate of the Vanilla Kingdom? Even once you've concluded that the giant cake monster was a coincidence. But then he happens to find her before she dies? Can everything really be a coincidence?

….Still, she chose to conclude that it was all a coincidence, not because she believed him, but because she was afraid of how his demeanor would change if she told him the whole truth. She couldn't imagine what he would do afterward if she told him the truth in her situation where she couldn't escape, so she chose to believe that it was all a coincidence.

"Don't worry my dear, I will continue to take care of you."

The cause of everything hugs her. In his arms, she closes her eyes softly.

"…Thank you. Pure vanilla."

[everythingisamazing]

I am currently hyperfixating on Jayce as a character and it suddenly clicked for me how the same trait attracts him to both Mel and Viktor. I mean, there is this post, about how Jayce is into higher beings but in all sincerity, it is actually something much simpler: (I do recommend you read my first analysis of Jayce being misunderstood by viewers here, but I will try to summarize it) Basically, Jayce starts out with a clear dream, that temporarily gets taken away and leads to him hitting rock bottom in S1 Ep1. He then spends a large portion of the show trying to please opposing forces in order to make said dream happen, while getting dragged further and further away from it and simultaneously having to deal with constantly rising stakes. Seriously, keep this in mind and look at some of his scenes - in the majority of them, the pressure on him is insane and he actually manages to hold it together kind of well. I always go back to this moment (timestamped, watch until 2:27) in the trial scene, and image that this must be what it is like in Jayces head all the freaking time. So when Viktor says to him "If you want to change the world, don't ask for permission." you can imagine how inspiring that is to someone, who can never shut down the noise from everyone around him and who essentially has to people please his way to the top, because if he doesn't, his dream, his house and later, everything around him, will fall apart. (Side note: I think Viktors death is not only his breaking point, because he is losing someone very important, but ALSO because all these year long efforts of trying to be, what Jayce would never have chosen for himself if not for the fear of failure, came to nothing in that same moment.) This is why, Jayce saying to Mel "You will never be a passenger.", in their final conversation is a really well chosen line, because it not only reveals how he sees her, but actually tells you a lot about who Jayce is. Seriously, this scene used to be kind of "meh" to me, but watching it with a better understanding of Jayces character, actually makes it so good: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pph3-E9_4Kc Both Viktor and Mel, at least in Jayces eyes, have the strength to follow their own ideals and their own path. I think that is why he is, for the most part, very understanding of the consequences that their actions produce. I have to show some respect for Meljay here, because while there certainly is an element of manipulation at play in the beginning, I do feel that she genuinely helps Jayce on the path he is on in S1 - like he would never have made it that far without her. The reason he ultimately choses Viktor, is because Viktor is inextricably bound (hah) to Jayces own dream, which he kept having to sacrifice along the way and only found the resolve to fight his way back to, after falling down the ravine in S2. Now, I of course had to think about what all this means for Mage Viktors involvement in Jayces fate - like, was he ever free to chose his own path to begin with? But I think the show answers that question in the final scene, when Viktor tells Jayce to leave, but he reaffirms his choice to stay with him.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

bronya & seele hugging reader who they think is dead, confessing their feelings at the last moment

and oop he gets better and now they gotta deal with their confession

(H:SR) Bronya and Seele confessing to an injured Reader

Gender Neutral as per usual, but I LOVE prompts like these ngl

Bronya has already lost so many people throughout her life, soldiers under her command, loved ones, yet she would never grow immune to it.

The day she lost her mother and became the new Supreme Guardian, it nearly broke her.

And with (Y/N) taking a blow meant for her. any composure she had was instantly shattered the moment the battle was over.

Tears streamed down her face as she felt the snow fall on her arms, patches of red staining the ground and her clothes.

Though the soldiers around her attempted to patch the worst of the injuries, the situation was looking more dire by the second.

Bronya hugged (Y/N) tight to her chest, doing her best to not break down for the sake of those around her.

But more than anything, she just wanted (Y/N) to know how she felt.

(Bronya) "(Y/N), I'm so sorry...Don't go, please...!"

(Y/N) grit their teeth, unable to speak but managed to squeeze her hand, messily wiping away a tear from her face.

(Bronya) "I...love you, (Y/N)..."

They fell unconscious before giving their response, being carried away by the other Silvermane soldiers.

Upon returning back to base, Bronya had finally received news of (Y/N)'s status, and she braced herself for the worst:

(Silvermane) "Supreme Guardian! (Y/N) has been stabilized and requested to see you, ma'am!"

Bronya sighed in relief, dismissing the others so she could speak to them alone.

Honestly? She was ready to cry tears of joy knowing that they'd be okay, expecting (Y/N) to immediately begin reassuring her the moment she walked in.

And it would be for the second time today she'd be proven wrong.

(Y/N) "Bronya, I think I might have been going a bit loopy near the end but...did you say that you loved me?"

Bronya's jaw dropped, the sudden realization hitting her. She had confessed in the heat of the moment.

She had kept it secret for years, and Bronya had let it slip finally, though understandably so.

And yet Bronya was still completely flustered by it.

(Bronya) "I-I...Well, I just...! M-Maybe...?"

A brief moment of silence passed before (Y/N) began laughing, so hard in fact they coughed in pain, making Bronya rush over before they could even blink.

(Bronya) "Are you still hurt?!"

(Y/N) "Ow...! Yeah, but that can wait! How am I supposed to take the news of the Supreme Guardian being in love with me?"

Even though they were in pain, they were healthy enough to give her a little smirk, causing her to blush and pout.

(Bronya) "Pardon me for thinking that you were gravely injured!"

(Y/N) "You only wanted to let me know how you felt when I was at death's door?"

(Bronya) "Of course not! Just...how could have I told you?"

Her eyes trailed downward, sighing and leaning back into a nearby chair that sat near their bed.

(Y/N) eased off a little, a hand brushing a small strand of hair near her face, causing Bronya to freeze at the gesture.

But after a moment, she leaned into their touch, seeing a more genuine smile now.

(Y/N) "You could've told me anytime, Bronya, and my answer would've been the same. I love you too."

Bronya leaned her head against theirs, and for a moment, the two said nothing and enjoyed the brief moment of peace they had earned.

They'd figure out what to do and how to handle their relationship, but for now, they could just have each other.

Even if it wasn't entirely the way Bronya had planned to announce her love to them.

Seele bursts into Natasha's Clinic, breathing heavily as she's carrying (Y/N), one arm around her shoulder.

(Seele) "NAT! I NEED YOU!"

Natasha immediately rushes to her aid, getting (Y/N) to a nearby bed, looking to see how grievous the injury was.

Seele's clothes were stained in dried blood, though none of it was hers.

(Natasha) "What happened?!"

(Seele) "This dumbass took a hit that was meant for me, a-and...!-"

Natasha nodded, gently pushing Seele away from the bed, though she refused to go anywhere.

(Seele) "Please, let me help them!"

Knowing better than to tell Seele off when she was so clearly panicked, Natasha applied pressure on the bleeding and brought up her face mask.

(Natasha) "Sterilized bandages, now."

(Seele) "R-Right!"

After several minutes of intensive care, with (Y/N)'s breathing getting heavier, Natasha could hear the quiet pleas from Seele as she held onto their hand.

(Seele) "Not like this, please just hang in there...!"

Natasha disposed of her now red mask, cleaning her hands before grabbing Seele's shoulder.

(Natasha) "They have to rest, and we need to get you looked at as well."

(Seele) "Nat, are they going to make it?!"

(Natasha) "They're stabilized for now, but it's...hard to say. I'll have my eye on them 24/7 as soon as we're done."

Seele winced at the report, but knew nothing else could be done.

Before she left to get cleaned, Seele left a kiss on (Y/N)'s forehead, and reluctantly left their side.

A day or two later, Seele received a text from Natasha, almost making her knees go out in relief.

Natasha: (Y/N) is awake, and they'll make a full recovery in a matter of time. I'll explain more, but they were asking to see you.

Seele: On my way now.

Though her text was calm, she nearly sprinted the entire way to Natasha's clinic.

Swinging the door wide open, she saw Natasha sitting in front of (Y/N)'s bed, smiling at the sight of her friend.

(Natasha) "Looks like you already have a visitor."

(Y/N) "Seele!"

Seele rushed over to their bed, nearly crushing (Y/N) in a hug as tears fell out of her eyes.

(Seele) "You MORON! You almost got killed doing that stupid stunt, what were you thinking?!"

(Y/N) "Protecting you! You were about to take that blow yourself!-"

(Seele) "And I would've been fine!-"

(Natasha) "I beg to differ. And I also think you should let (Y/N) finish their thought."

Seele was tempted to roll her eyes, but instead listened to Natasha.

(Y/N) "You think I wanna see someone I care about get hurt?"

(Seele) "How the hell do you think I feel?!"

At first, (Y/N) motioned to say something else before blushing, making Seele confused.

(Y/N) "I...T-Think that kiss you gave me told me."

(Seele) "Wha-?!"

Immediately, the memory came flooding back. The kiss she gave them before they went under care. They were awake for that?!

And with that, Natasha just chuckled and moved to the curtains, winking at them.

(Natasha) "I think I'll give you two a moment."

Once the curtain closed them off, Seele and (Y/N) sat in silence, both blushing madly.

Until, mercifully, (Y/N) spoke up.

(Y/N) "I...feel the same way, if it means anything."

(Seele) "...Of course it does, idiot."

She held their hand, but was unable to meet their eyes directly, and the two of them stayed like that for a small eternity.

(Seele) "If you ever get hurt like that again, I'll kill you myself."

(Y/N) "Hah, sure thing, dear."

Seele spun her head to give them a glare, one which faltered immediately seeing them smile. And with a sigh, she just hugged them closer to her.

[lady-arcane]

How the Mighty Fall :(Quietly)

Gojo Satoru met her on a day so ordinary, he almost didn’t notice her.

Almost.

She was standing by a cracked vending machine outside a jujutsu conference hall, jamming the return button like it had personally insulted her.

Her uniform was rumpled, sleeves half-rolled, phone balanced on her shoulder as she muttered into it.

When she hung up, she let the phone fall into her pocket without ceremony, kicked the vending machine once (precisely, as if she’d calculated it), and grabbed the stubborn can of coffee that tumbled out.

When their eyes met, she gave him the same look she might’ve given a mildly interesting cloud.

He wasn’t used to that.

Gojo Satoru was used to stares that held awe, fear, lust, envy.

He wasn’t used to being dismissed.

He told himself he didn’t care.

(Later, he would realize that was the first lie.)

-----

Inside, introductions were made. "Gojo Satoru," the principal said, almost with a bow. "The strongest."

He flashed his trademark smile. The room tensed the way rooms always did around him — shifting in awe, or jealousy, or terror.

Except for her.

She glanced up from her can of coffee, blinked slowly, and said, "Congratulations," in a tone so dry it might’ve been sarcasm or exhaustion or both.

Gojo actually missed a step.

It was like tripping on a stair you hadn’t noticed.

Ridiculous. Forgettable.

Except the body remembers how it fell.

And the pride remembers harder.

-----

He found out her name later — a relic name from a once-great family.

Fallen into disgrace. Neutral.

Neutral in a world where neutrality was treason.

She hadn't come here for prestige. Or power.

She hadn't come to heal the broken system or tear it down.

She had come because, somehow, life had shoved her into it, and she hadn't found a way to shove back.

There was something about her that infuriated him.

The way she didn't try.

The way she didn’t look at him like a miracle or a weapon or a god.

He tried, subtly at first, to impress her.

(The strongman tricks. The lazy jokes. The almost-accidental flashes of power.)

She sipped her bitter coffee and said things like:

"You're flashy. That’s not the same as important."

Or worse:

"Sometimes I think the world doesn't want saving. It just wants witnesses."

He laughed it off, of course.

Loudly. Carelessly.

(And hated how much he thought about it later.)

-----

One night, after a mission gone sideways, they ended up on the same train platform.

She sat two benches down, damp with rain, bleeding slightly from a cut on her forehead.

She looked small, but not fragile. Just very, very tired.

He sat beside her without asking.

After a long silence, she said, "You don't have to sit here."

"I know," he said. "But maybe I want to."

She gave a dry, almost-smile. "Your charity is overwhelming."

Gojo tilted his head back and stared up at the grey sky, feeling the ache of bruises under his jacket, the throb of exhaustion deep in his bones.

"You ever think," he said, "that saving people is worth it even if it’s selfish?"

She didn’t answer for a long time.

When she did, her voice was very soft:

"Wanting to be needed isn’t the same as being good."

The train rattled by. Neither of them moved.

He didn’t know how to answer her.

He didn’t know how to stop wanting her to believe in him.

He didn’t know when wanting her belief started to feel more important than winning.

-----

Weeks passed.

Gojo Satoru, who had outrun every emotion in his life by being faster, louder, brighter,

found himself slowing down around her.

Not because she asked him to.

But because she didn't even notice when he sped up.

Because around her, there was nothing to prove.

No war to win. No audience to perform for.

Just the terrifying idea that maybe being "The Strongest" meant nothing if nobody was watching.

And maybe that was okay.

Or maybe it wasn't.

He wasn’t sure which scared him more.

-----

The fight, when it happened, was stupid.

A cursed spirit too small for his attention, too slippery to ignore.

She fought it first, knives flashing, blood wetting her sleeves.

She fought like someone who didn’t expect to survive, but would be damned if she made it easy for death.

When he stepped in — easy, graceful, efficient — she didn’t even thank him.

Just leaned against a wall, breathing hard, looking annoyed more than anything else.

"You didn't have to," she said.

"I wanted to," he said, before he could stop himself.

She wiped blood from her mouth and smiled, thin and crooked.

"Of course you did."

As if kindness was another form of violence.

As if saving her only proved her point.

-----

They sat on the curb afterward, side by side, rain seeping into their clothes.

He pulled down his blindfold, let his eyes roam the ruined street, the broken lamplight.

Everything was grey and wet and stupidly, achingly beautiful.

"You know," she said, conversational,

"all stars burn out."

He looked at her. Really looked at her.

Not as a mission.

Not as a critic.

Not as a fantasy.

Just — a tired girl, soaked in rainwater and blood, laughing at how the universe devours everything eventually.

"Maybe," he said, "some are just slow enough to light the way for a while."

She didn't respond.

Maybe she didn’t believe him.

Maybe she didn't need to.

Maybe it was enough that he believed it for both of them, for once.

-----

He would never tell her that she ruined him a little.

That she made him gentler, angrier, sadder, more human.

That she made the invincible feel a little more mortal.

That she made the strongest sorcerer alive wonder what strength was even for.

He would never tell her.

Because she already knew.

Because she didn’t care.

And that, somehow, was the most beautiful thing about her.

-----

[paracosm-draw]

omg PLEASE do "a surprise kiss during laughter, when one just can’t help it anymore and finally caves", i need silly fluff in my life

I'm back from my 48h of hell (night shifts at the hospital) and I finally slept enough to be able to answer all the asks !

I've got two asks for this prompt, so here we go nonnies ☀️ It starts with a little bit of angst but don't worry it has a very happy ending 😌 Hope you'll like it 💕

---

The weeks after the death of the Duchess Kryze had been the longest ones Anakin had had to endure in a while. Time seemed to stretch on and on until he was feeling worn out even though he wasn't the one in mourning. In the short time he had met Satine, he had appreciated her for her sense of duty, her wit rivaling Obi-Wan’s and the fact that she wasn’t afraid to take controversial but necessary decisions in order to act for her people instead of getting bogged down in endless, pointless debates. He appreciated her but he didn't know her. Not like Obi-Wan did. 

Anakin knew that he was grieving. In his own way and at his own pace. He wouldn't admit it and he wouldn’t talk about it - not that Anakin knew how to approach the delicate subject - but he was grieving. He was grieving a long-time friend and a confidant in the eyes of the majority of people. For Anakin, he was also grieving a more secret, more intimate thing he kept carefully locked inside of his heart, a thing Anakin could only guess from rare and meager clues, since he didn’t have the key to said heart. 

At first, he had tried to deal with the situation like he had when he had lost his mother. Mourning was an universal experience, after all. People probably grieved all the same, he thought. He remembered how angry he’d been at the time. How it had led to one of the worst decisions of his life. How the anger hadn’t subsided after that, but seeped deeper inside of his bones, left to rot, dormant but never gone. He had thought then, that Obi-Wan might be angry too.

It turned out Obi-Wan wasn't angry. He was sad and nostalgic, which was worse. Worse because Anakin had no clue about how to deal with that, with something other than anger, with something that didn’t push him to action but rather kept him still. He had no idea about what Obi-Wan needed. Was it comfort ? Was it loneliness ? Was it something else ? Someone else ? Someone who knew exactly what words to say, what level of physical touch to use, when to take him out and when to leave him in peace ? Someone who knew how to bring back to life the beloved spark that had quietly died down in Obi-Wan's eyes ?

Someone who was not Anakin. Anakin who didn’t know what to say and how to comfort and when to let go. Anakin who was too much or never enough, and who wanted nothing more than to take his pain away and to make it his own, to curl up around Obi-Wan like a loyal tooka and stay there until his heart unbroke on its own. 

So that's what he decided to do. He stayed there, by his side. Awkwardly, most of the time. Refusing mission after mission to keep an eye on him and inventing excuses after excuses when Obi-Wan asked him about it. He stayed and watched, willing to continue doing so until Obi-Wan got annoyed and sent him off. It hadn’t happened yet so Anakin kept watching. Maybe a little too much- 

“Anakin, be caref-” 

Obi-Wan's exclamation got lost in the impact that rattled through Anakin’s skull as he walked straight into a pole, in the middle of Coruscant’s crowded streets. The shock sent him down on his butt as an acute wave of pain traveled from his forehead to the back of his neck, making his vision blur and his ears ring for a second. 

“Oh dear, are you alright ?!” 

Obi-Wan had crouched next to him, a supporting hand on his shoulder. Anakin blinked and turned his head to him, his forehead pounding unpleasantly.

“Uh…” 

He didn't know what was the most humiliating, to be honest. The fact that he didn’t see that pole because he was - once again - too busy staring at Obi-Wan, the obvious bump slowly starting to grow on his forehead or the fact that Obi-Wan was… laughing ? Or trying not to, at least. But the way his eyes crinkled on the corners and the effort he put on biting his lips betrayed him. Not the reaction Anakin expected. He tilted his head on the side, confused and clearly dumbstruck, and that exact thing was what seemed to be the last straw for Obi-Wan Kenobi, poised and respectable Master Jedi in mourning. 

He burst out laughing. Not the polite and discrete laugh he gave politicians with his hand above his mouth, not the occasional chuckles he graced Anakin when he did or said something funny, but a true, bright laugh that came right from his chest, head thrown back and teeth in display. His whole body shook with the strength of it, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes before spilling along his cheeks, a blush spreading from the tip of his ears to the collar of his tabard. He laughed like he was unable to stop and Anakin stared, bewildered, all pain and humiliation forgotten in favor of absolute awe. 

He didn’t remember when he’d seen Obi-Wan laugh like that for the last time. If  he even had. But from now on it would be his number one priority. Obi-Wan looked… free, like that. Younger, unburdened, happy. Gorgeous. Something violent stirred in Anakin's chest, something he had spent years trying to tame and bury. To forget. Something which now ferociously clawed at the inside of his ribcage to get out, drawn by that laugh that sounded like a miracle.  

"I'm- I'm sorry, A- Anakin. It's just-" Obi-Wan hiccupped, then doubled over with laughter, teeth flashing and tears spilling.

The beast in Anakin's chest roared. He leaned forward, his hands finding the strong lines of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and stole the marvelous sound directly from his source. He wasn’t thinking, not really, rather acting on instinct. Obi-Wan stopped laughing with a surprised gasp, which was the opposite of what Anakin was trying to achieve, really. He froze but didn’t try to push him away, so Anakin pressed his lips tighter against his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

A lifetime might have passed, or probably just the blink of an eye, when Obi-Wan moved again, a gentle hand cupping Anakin’s jaw. His mouth moved against his own, not to kiss back but to pronounce a little word that meant everything for Anakin when it came from Obi-Wan. His name. Uncertain. Questioning.

“Anakin…” 

The warmth of his breath tingled Anakin’s lips, who opened his mouth to let out his own, short and shaky. Their mouths brushed, soft and parted, and Anakin pushed forward to fit them together again. The fingers on his jaw strengthened, not to stop him but to pull him closer, he realized in wonder when lips pressed back against his own. The hand on his face traveled to the back of his neck, curling around the base of his hair and holding him tight. Anakin sighed softly against the touch, moving his own hand to cup the side of Obi-Wan’s face, fingers grazing against the edge of his beard as their mouths tentatively discovered each other. 

It feels right, was the first thought crossing Anakin’s mind. The way they fitted together, the taste of his own spit on Obi-Wan’s lips, the gentle burn of his mustache against his mouth, the sweet noises they drew from each other. More than that, the way their dormant bond had ignited alive at the faintest brush of their lips, the way their Force signatures had curled up against each other, so tightly entangled they couldn't tell where Anakin’s was starting and where Obi-Wan's was ending. The synchronization of their pulse. The light trembling of their bodies. The fact that they stayed intertwined after breaking the kiss, breathing in each other’s space like it was the only source of oxygen. 

Anakin slipped his fingers behind Obi-Wan’s ears, pressing his forehead against his as his thumb gently caressed his cheekbone. 

“I want to hear you laugh like that again.” He murmured. 

Obi-Wan let out a chopped breath which sounded suspiciously like a disbelieving chuckle. 

“Even at the expense of your pretty head ?” 

“I would gladly hit my head on every pole I see, if it’s what it takes.” Anakin answered fiercely, maybe a little too much, but he was rewarded with a laugh. Another. He preciously bottled it in a corner of his mind.

“Ridiculous boy.” Obi-Wan shook his head fondly and brushed the tip of his fingers around the bump ornating his forehead. “You didn’t have to go to such extremes, you know ? I’d rather you keep that lovely face of yours unharmed.” 

Anakin shrugged, but before he got the chance to think about a clever answer, Obi-Wan leaned in and pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, making his mind go blank. Again. 

“We should pay a visit to the Halls of Healing, just to make sure you don't have a concussion.” Obi-Wan decided. 

“Uh- Yeah, sure.” Anakin answered dumbly, feeling strangely dizzy and rather hot all of the sudden. 

“Great.” Obi-Wan grinned. He gently placed another kiss on his temple before grabbing his arm to help him get up. “Let’s go, before you realize.” 

Realize what, Anakin didn’t really know. But he would gladly follow Obi-Wan to the depths of Hell if he kept kissing him like that. 

[sataneyu]

You know what? I'm crying.

I'm going to have a long post translated into English because I'm bad at English and because I have too many emotions. The fourth episode was definitely a bombshell. In many ways. They gave us a lot of interesting questions and NOT a SINGLE DAMN ANSWER, and it's not like it's a problem. It's cool that Ling Lin has finally begun to realize himself and his desires in isolation from the forced image. It's cool that he ran to save Moon and realized how important it was to him. It's cool that so many people supported him, he's a bunny/sunshine/bun/big guy (as you like it better) and all that. But...

They replaced Nice so quickly...

Okay, let's say again: it was literally publicly announced to the fans that their hero, the man they believed in all this time, was not only replaced by someone completely different, but also because he died. He is not tired, he has not resigned, he has not given up his heroic work, no. Died. And okay, thanks to Ling Lin for not talking about "suicide." He's talking about "death." You can take his words in any way you want (although that's not the point, but still). It just kills me to think that no one, except for the person who was really close to Nice (Wrek), began to grieve for him. Okay, it hasn't been a day since Lin Lin's revelation, I get it. But at the end of the fourth episode, we are shown how the advertisement with Nice's face changes to Linlin's face and no one seems to notice, as if it were....normal? Of course, when the heroes in the world are constantly changing each other and appear and disappear as if at the click of your fingers (yeah, yes, understood, understood at the click of your fingers ha ha) changing a hero at the tenth rank shouldn't be unusual, but... Do the previous heroes get forgotten so quickly?

The first three episodes were filled with the fans' love for Nice. Peculiar, but warm in its own way. They cheered for him, they came to fan meetings, they supported him as much as they could.....And they forgot about him so quickly? Just because.......and why, exactly?

I'm pretty sure they'll show us the backstory of what happened. There is no way such a complex and at the same time terribly interesting character could be so easily forgotten by its creators. Especially considering the shot that recently appeared on Twitter...

In general, the phenomenon of Nice's character and his popularity among the fandom is a topic for a separate conversation, we are not ready for this conversation yet.

But I know for sure that no matter how the creators made him, no matter how crazy, broken, abusive and generally unstable he actually is, I will be delighted.

(what's the point, I'll support him even if he decides to rise from the dead and kill all the other heroes)

((Go ahead, dear! You're walking the road of rage and revenge, and who are we to stop you?)) So! I'm leaving a small message here (rather for myself) because I know that we still have a lot of interesting things to learn about other characters and many of my thoughts will get lost in the flood of new information.

DON'T FORGET HIM.

Never forget that he existed. He was there. It all started with him. And probably it all will end with him.

[mintytealfox]

Norton Affection level: TRUSTING

GOSH how he says "a miner's life costs?" and his LAUGH AH

The Chat Dialogue:

(he says a TON 👀)

"Camaraderie? We're all just using each other" "You don't wanna know much about me." "Only money and shiny ores don't lie." "My dream? To stand in the sunlight, just like you. That's it." "What was that?" "This ain't the place for stories" "Save your love and curiosity, I'm just a regular miner." "Don't get too curious about our world." "I don't want to be the center of attention, and I sure as hell don't want trouble." "Every day could be your last, who knows if you'll see the sun tomorrow." "When people are trying to get something from you, you've got value, but also danger." "Equality? Ha, what a joke." "Why so on edge? If you spent any time in a mine that could collapse at any second, you'd be the same." "The world's nothing but a big mine. Everything that feels stable can cave at any moment." "You're getting too close." "I'm not answering your questions." (bro you just answered like 10 LOL)

the "save your love" one. HE IS ON TO ME 👀 LOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

[noiranamnesis]

Marinette wrinkled her nose the moment Sean offered milk, giving a quick shake of her head as she drained a good portion of her water instead. Setting the glass down, she refilled it from the nearby pitcher with a stubborn flick of her wrist. "Yes, of course," she said, voice a little raspy from the lingering heat but full of quiet, fierce determination. Her gaze flicked to the wings still waiting: five. Je peux le faire. She would do this. Even if it killed her. Blinking back stubborn tears welling in her eyes, she straightened in her chair, trying to refocus as Sean moved on.

When he began rattling off details about her family, her mouth fell open slightly, blinking in genuine surprise. "Wow," she said, impressed and little flustered. "You do amazing research." She reached for a lemon wedge, biting into it sharply to flood her mouth with tartness- anything to distract herself from the burning in her mouth. "Wooh," she exhaled, fanning herself once. "Okay. Um...my brother and sister... they don't want anything with celebrity life," she explained, smiling fondly. "They say it is...how you say...a circus. Usually for holidays, I go to them. Soon, I will go to New York, pick my brother...and then we go to England, to my sister." She settled in her seat, warming to the topic. "When I was in Paris, my sister was still studying in New York, so I traveled there often. Last year," she added, with a small laugh, "they both come to stay with me in France. For a little while." Remembering Sean's mention of the premiere, she resisted the urge to glance towards the camera. "They will not come for the premiere. My sister asked me when it was, and when I tell her, she say, 'Okay, I call you before.'" She gave a playful scoff. "And my brother..." she shook her head with feigned exasperation, "I tell him, if he does not keep his grades, I force him to come to premiere in a full suit. Ties, shoes...everything." She grinned. "He was very upset."

Sean chuckled. "You’re keeping them grounded. I respect that." He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting casually on the table. "Speaking of the circus...you’ve had a pretty quick rise to fame. And with it...paparazzi, fans, social media, the whole mess. How do you handle it?"

"Slowly," she said simply, her accent softening the word. "Very slowly." She thought for a beat, then continued, her hands folding neatly on the table. "Paparazzi...it is strange. I don’t think it will ever be normal. I try to be polite. If they follow, I ignore. If they shout..." she lifted her hands in a helpless gesture, "I walk faster. It is like a...dance," she added. "If you look at them, they chase. If you look bored...they get bored."

Sean nodded. "And fans?"

"Fans...I love fans," she said warmly. "Sometimes I feel bad, because my English...it is not perfect. I am afraid they think I am rude. But I listen. I just need more time...to find the right words."

Sean's smile was easy, but there was a glint of something more probing. "You've handled it with a lot of grace. But online, some people have noticed that your partner maybe doesn’t have the same patience. There have been a few moments-"

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, her body stilling a fraction, but she quickly masked it with a small, wry smile, reaching for her water again. She took a careful sip before answering. "Yes...he is not the most...smiley?" she admitted with a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "He is not used to cameras, to people following. He is...very private. And protective," she explained quietly. "It is not...anger. It is more...he wants to live his life." She paused thoughtfully, choosing her words carefully. "He has a kind heart, or else I would not be with him," she said simply. "But it is a quiet one. So sometimes it can look…rough, outside. But inside, it is different."

Sean let a beat pass, giving her space to breathe, then he gestured toward the wings again, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright. Ready to level up to number six?"

Marinette gave a tiny, valiant nod, her hand already reaching for another lemon wedge. "No choice now," she whispered, squeezing the juice with exaggerated care over the wing. For a second, she simply stared at the piece of chicken, as if weighing her fate. Then, with a breath for courage, she took a large bite. The regret was instant. "Oh...I made mistake," she gasped out, laughing despite herself as she set the wing down as though she were handling something dangerous. Her eyes blinked fiercely, her whole body giving a slight tremble as the heat hit harder than before. "Okay... okay," she muttered, one hand waving blindly as she fumbled for her water without once taking her wide, betrayed eyes off Sean.

Sean laughed, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. "You're doing amazing," he said, "You seem to adapting almost in real time."

Marinette clutched her glass and managed a wobbly smile, cheeks flushed from the spice. "You don't have to lie. We can still be friends after."

"I'll hold you to that," he teased. "So, I feel like we have to bring this up- because no one rises in fame without leaving a few interesting stories behind." He eased into it. "In Paris, you had a few…let’s say colorful headlines. Totally normal, by the way. But I have to ask..." He ticked off on his fingers with a teasing air, "There were the rumors about a family rift when you moved abroad...people said you ‘abandoned your roots.’" He raised an eyebrow lightly, clearly inviting her to set the record straight. "And then," he continued smoothly, "there was that situation where private texts between you and a former boyfriend somehow made it into the tabloids." He winced in sympathy. "Not your fault, obviously. But rough." "And of course," Sean added, chuckling, "my personal favorite: the so-called backstage feud where anonymous sources claimed you were this icy diva. Which, I have to say, sitting here with you now, seems...hard to believe." He folded his hands lightly on the table, leaning in just enough to keep it friendly. "So, what’s your take on all that? Was it tough dealing with those early storms? And is there anything you wish people understood better about who you really are?"

Marinette inhaled sharply, clearly caught off guard by the neat little stack of scandals laid out in a single breath. "Oh…wow," she murmured, blinking once before letting out a soft, incredulous laugh. "You did not miss anything." She adjusted slightly in her chair, lifting her water glass but not yet drinking from it, as if bracing herself first. "Well," she began, "for my family…it was strange. Because my mother, she raised my sister and me in Conques, until she passed when I was fifteen. After…I go to New York, to live with my father and my brother. So…when I come back to France, and now to America…there is no rift. Not with them." She gave a tiny, almost apologetic smile. "My sister, she was not in France anymore. My father- he is English." She gave small shrug, voice soft but steady. "I think people, they like the story, you know? That if you leave, you forget where you are from. But for me…I plan to go back. I want to keep a home there. I want to do projects here and there. If both still want me." She added quickly.

As Sean pressed gently into the second point, Marinette’s lips curved with a wry little smile. "The messages…" she said, eyes flickering upward as if summoning patience, "were…interesting." She gave a soft huff of laughter. "Suddenly, I am a...heartbreaker?" Her brow lifted delicately. "But really…I think only one time in my life, I was the one to break a relationship." She glanced off-camera, her smile widening as she caught Nadja's eyes. "My best friend, she thought it was very funny. She told me…the closest thing I break is an egg." A small sip of water, a pause, and then she continued more quietly, "The feud story...it was after." She tilted her head, considering. "Each one, it was stressful. But the one with my family…that was the worst.” Her smile faded just a little, though her voice stayed composed. “Because…it is the one people believe fastest. And…you cannot defend family without showing too much. Without hurting them also." She breathed out, slow. "The others…they were easier. Easier to laugh at, later."

If Marinette was annoyed at all by Sean asking her about Olivier, she was doing a great job of masking it. Her answer was mature and just detailed enough to prevent any further prying. She was giving Olivier far too much grace, in Tylio's opinion, but it was understandable. She couldn't exactly speak badly about him in public, people might accuse her of being bitter. Or worse, they would come up with a whole slew of ridiculous conspiracy theories. The kind of conspiracies that Olivier would have most likely reveled in. While he hadn't outright said anything so far, Tylio knew he wasn't happy to find out about the fact that they were going public with their relationship. Every interaction between them on set was professional, Tylio was still insisting on only talking to him about work-related things but that didn't change the fact that their exchanges were always laced with an undercurrent of angry tension.

Despite all the time they spent together over the past few months, some of these answers were new to Tylio as well. They never talked much about her background in ballet, for example. She had mentioned it, but it didn't come up a lot in conversation and he never realized how much it affected her performance as an actress too. But it made sense. A big part of ballet was acting, making everything look easy and effortless when it was anything but. He'd never seen her dance ballet either but whenever he saw her dancing through her apartment, it did show a little bit in her movements. She had a kind of gracefulness that was pleasant to watch and didn't come without practice, at least not for most people. Listening to her answer, he found himself curious, wondering whether she still had any videos of when she used to dance ballet. He made a mental note to ask her later.

Her answer about music also surprised him. Not the fact that she listened to a lot of it before working, but the fact that she was able to come up with an answer so quickly. If he didn't know any better he would have thought she had been expecting the question. She hardly had to think before she listed off four titles, only one of which he'd heard of before because she'd shown him. Ethereal. It was an intense piece, powerful even without any voices. The kind of music he liked to listen to with his eyes closed. He vaguely remembered telling her how much he liked it, but had no idea until now that she associated it with him. Without a doubt, it was a compliment. He decided he would look up the other songs later, when they were back home, because now he was rather curious about what kind of sound Marinette associated with Nadja. He almost felt disappointed when Sean moved on to the next topic, he wanted him to continue, ask her whether she had any songs for the rest of her team, her family, herself even. But...this was still an interview that was supposed to keep moving. It was fine. He could always circle back to it later, when they were alone.

At this point, he could tell she was struggling with the food. It was starting to worry him a little bit, she was only on her fourth wing and she didn't even take big bites but she'd started to cough a little bit. His gaze wandered to the glass of water on the table — she was clasping it but for some reason not drinking any. There was milk too, but she seemed to ignore that completely, seemingly determined to make it through without drinking anything unless she absolutely needed to. Maybe she just wanted to prove to herself that she could? He was back to watching her face as she, much to his surprise, decided to go in for a second bite. C’est peut-être juste trop bon.

Sean was asking her about Instagram now and while she was gracious about it, Tylio could tell just by looking at her face that she was a lot less excited to answer about this topic. It was not unexpected though. He'd seen her Instagram, just like the rest of the team he followed her and there would be those occasional drunk posts. They were kind of funny, in his opinion, especially the dancing ones, those always made him smile. Every now and then he would also see his own face pop up in her stories. Usually it was during some moment he didn't realize was being recorded. She probably realized early on that he was not a natural when it came to being on camera and that if she wanted to capture anything authentic from him, she had better do it without him noticing. He had some photos of her too, of course. But he would never post them. There wasn't anything scandalous about them, he just wanted to keep them for himself. There was already so much footage of her out there in the world and those photos were special. They were for him only. Candid shots of her standing in the kitchen, reading something off the back of a box. Her stretched out posture as she lay on the couch reading a script. The back of her head as she stood by the window, enjoying the sun on her face. Photos of the real Marinette.

The real Marinette, who was currently biting into the fifth hot wing and struggling to keep it together. He watched her eyes begin to water, silently hoping for her to finally just drink some water but when she did, it didn't seem to help much. She turned to look at him and he reached for the chocolate bar in his pocket, nearly walking over to hand it to her. He'd brought it because the combination of milk and sugar was supposed to help reduce the heat after eating something spicy. But one of the producers stopped him. "It's against the rules", he was told. Apparently they wanted her suffering to be as authentic as possible. "What happens if she drops out?", he asked the producer standing next to him in a hushed voice.

"She'll be placed on the Hot Ones Wall of Shame", the producer explained, chuckling a little bit. "Only ten people on there so far. And we've had twenty-six seasons, so it would be a little embarrassing."

"Merveilleux..."

"We can give her ice cream though, if it gets really bad. I wouldn't worry about it. This kind of reaction is good for a thumbnail."

A slight frown formed on Tylio's forehead as he heard those words. He wasn't thrilled about the fact that this guy was so focused on getting a good thumbnail caption. Thankfully, the host seemed a lot more sympathetic. "Try drinking some milk", Sean advised her, amused but not too much to check up on her one more time. "You've still got five more levels to go, are you sure you're up for this challenge? If you are, then I've got another question for you. Before you started filming this movie, you were in Paris. Now you're in LA, a bit farther away from your family. Your sister is studying in England and your brother is still going to high school in New York, that's quite a bit of distance between all of you. How often does the whole family get together? Are they coming to LA for the premier?"

[voxofthevoid]

I like it when you get on your soapbox. What's been on your mind recently?

#voxhasopinions #anonswholikethatvoxhasopinions

Alright, I finally have time to answer this properly *cracks knuckles*

Before I start, I want to say that I'm aware that fanfic writers and readers are not exactly distinct categories. A significant number of us are both; plus, an exclusive reader can become an author anytime. But the discussions below tend to be framed as authors vs. readers, even when the specific parties involved are both, so that's what I'll be going with.

I don't know how common this is outside of the r/Ao3 and r/Fanfiction subreddits, especially since the only fandom discussion space I frequent on Tumblr is olderthannetfic's blog, but I've been seeing an increasing tendency on Reddit to blame the apparent decline in commenting on authors and the prevalent culture of no unsolicited concrit on Ao3.

From what I can tell, this is being espoused by a small but very loud and insistent minority. Their numbers seem to be climbing though, presumably because a lot of people want something concrete to blame for the lack of comments.

Some of these complaints are reasonable. When authors snap at readers for leaving emoji comments; accuse human beings of being bots because their comments were "generic"; or otherwise behave rudely in situations where rudeness is not warranted, it is natural for others to go, "Hey, dude, you're overreacting and making kind of a mess." Readers who actually behave rudely get the same treatment.

But oftentimes, the expectation that authors should treat their readers with general courtesy gets extended to a degree that I can only summarize as "authors should be doormats who are thankful for even a lick of attention, negative or positive." Listen, if an individual wants to adopt that as a personal stance, that's up to them, but anyone who tries to present that as the fandom ideal should perhaps fuck off to sites like FFnet or SpaceBattles that encourage that kind of heavy critical culture. A site such as Ao3, which gives its authors complete control over their comment section and a significant degree of freedom in presenting their works, is not the place for it.

But even more than this, what grinds my gears is, as usual, the double standards that pop up in these discussions.

Whenever writers complain about giving up on writing or posting fic because of rude comments, harassment campaigns, or a general lack of interaction, the most prevalent and/or prominent sentiment you see is that they should be writing for themselves or that they shouldn't let the haters win. Both of which are valid points, though not always appropriate or helpful. Read the room, y'know?

On the other hand, when readers state that they've stopped commenting because they witnessed or experienced some authors being rude, they're treated to a lot more sympathy. And they should be—that's generally the kinder approach when people are venting their frustrations. It's the contrast with the reactions authors get that irks me.

At the end of the day, both posting fic and commenting on fic are personal choices. Nobody can or should force you. And expecting a general degree of courtesy from your fellow fans is also quite natural—it's socialization 101.

Your reactions to people being assholes to you are also entirely your own. I can't judge any individual author or reader for having some bad experiences and deciding that they'll stop writing/posting fic or commenting on fic, respectively. It's a sad state of affairs, but it happens, and your peace of mind is more important than fandoming.

But for the love of fuck, the double standards need to stop.

People are going to be rude, be it authors, readers, or randos on social media. A general expectation of civility is reasonable, but the fact that not everyone will adhere to that is predictable. And judging an entire group by the actions of those few assholes is ridiculous.

I'd need to borrow several people's hands and toes to count the number of hate comments or general bullshit I've received over the years, several of which were in my current fandom. As a shitty cherry on top, I've seen people who fawn over me in my comments turn around and say some real weird shit about me on social media. Fuck even knows what goes on in Discord servers—I don't want to know actually.

All things considered, I'd be well within my rights to decide I'm done with this fandom, but it would be patently ridiculous of me to think that all my readers are two-faced bastards just because I ran into a few who were like that. Similarly, if an author were to be rude to me because I left a comment that was only one line or something, I'd be an idiot to act like all or even most authors behave like that, even though I'd have every right to decide that I'll stop commenting for a while.

In both scenarios, my choice to step away would be reasonable. But any kind of claim that the bad experiences I had can be generalized to readers or authors as a group would not be reasonable.

Yet, that's what I keep seeing, and while that tends to take the form of individuals saying they'll no longer risk commenting, the cumulative effect is the aforementioned loud and growing minority who keep trying to paint fic authors as the main parties responsible for fewer comments across the board.

You can't tell authors that they need to sit pretty and swallow unsolicited concrit, hate comments, negging or shilling, and basically any scrap of attention just so that readers won't get spooked away from commenting forever. That's not in any way reasonable. People who say this are essentially blaming authors for having... self-respect and self-worth.

Personally, I think that accepting the possibility of unpleasant interactions is necessary when involving yourself in any social space. You don't have to like it, and you sure as hell don't have to endure it quietly. Fight fire with fire all you'd like. But letting a handful of assholes drive us away from something we enjoy is not helping anyone in the end, whether from the reading end or the writing end.

Establish etiquette and enforce it, but also be prepared for people who won't know or care about it.

Don't fucking throw your fellow writers under the bus because you think that everyone being doormats would encourage more commenting. Even if it did, that'd be a shitty price to pay.

[heyimkana]

I wonder what would jin-woo's reaction be if his wife awakened as a high ranking hunter? (Just more brain rot- not too big)

And if the association wanted her to actually start hunting, how would he react?

damn okay this is actually very hard to answer hmmm let's see

i feel like... jinwoo would grow extremely agitated about it. like even if she was awakened as an S-rank hunter, jinwoo would STILL have this need to protect her all the time. and now that she must join the raid to protect the citizen, he grows even more worried. it's not that he doesn't believe in her strength (he does and he's so proud of her) but at the same time, the more powerful she is, the more responsibility/burden she'll have to carry on her shoulders and she's gonna have to face much stronger opponents and he just can't take it.

jinwoo would probably keep these thoughts to himself though, not wanting his wife to get the wrong idea and go like "you don't think i'm capable of protecting myself and the people around me?" he definitely doesn't want to upset her.

i think that if his wife asked him "honey, the association asked me to help them on the next raid. they seemed desperate about it." jinwoo would sit in silence, ruminating for a while. he could tell that she wanted to help and honestly the most believable scenario would be jinwoo volunteering to clear the gate (ALL gates) by himself but if for some reason, this weren't the case then he'd squeeze her hand, his face full of worry but also understanding when he said "you know i hate seeing you go on a raid, angel, but if that's what you truly want, then i'll respect your decision. but you have to promise me that you will keep yourself safe. if you don't see any chance of winning the fight, run. don't be reckless. don't be a hero. don't save other people's lives at the cost of your own. if you got hurt, sweetheart, i would never forgive you."

and he said that sternly but she could tell his heart was also breaking as he said it like he was already worried to death even before she said yes to join the raid

he drew her close to him, pressing their foreheads together as he whispered "all i need... is for you to be my wife, to be the mother of my children, to always be by my side. i don't need you to be a hero, sweetheart, but if being one makes you feel happy, makes you feel satisfied with your life, then i won't have the heart to stop you either. but please... please promise me you'll always be safe..."