#please accept this as the compliment it is intended as and feel free to ignore it!

[waytooinvested]

Fandom creators tag game

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of? Mostly I write fanfiction. Sometimes I make little needle felted character dolls. Over all proudest is probably still The Hands I Used to Touch (Call the Midwife), but for my current fandom (Supergirl) it's Forgotten, Not Forgiven, as that is my latest big project and home to all the fluffy supercorp that I need in my life (okay not in the published chapters but IT WILL BE EVENTUALLY I PROMISE)

2. What fandom(s) do you create for? Right now just Supergirl, and I have only written three fics for that one so far (but hopefully more to come!) Before that it was Call the Midwife.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it? Supercorp, ie Kara/Lena for Supergirl (I know, I’m so quiet about it on this blog you would never have guessed). It occupies an interesting space of being simultaneously entirely non controversial in that it is by far the biggest ship I have ever engaged with, while also being extremely divisive, both within and beyond fandom spaces. But I arrived here LONG after most of that had happened, and am now just happily playing in the sandpit of creative space while the bones of drama stay *mostly* buried. Always a bit of a shock when one rises up to try and kick down your sandcastle though (yes, I am aware that that is a mildly horrifying visual)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon? They are not (TECHNICALLY), but there is enough raw material in canon to build The São João Baptista, and that is enough for me. That and the 21,302 (and counting) fics with their relationship tag on AO3.

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you? The first I actually engaged with other fans over was Call The Midwife in my early 20s, and that was because I snapped after seeing one too many tv lesbians get hit by a car.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date? Unhinged is not really my brand so I don't really have anything good for this one. Is Kara gets accidentally miniaturized unhinged? Or a bait and switch Lena "villain" arc? I think probably not really to either, but that's the closest I've got for this fandom so far...

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it? The aforementioned incident between Delia and a car, which left her with amnesia and taken away to Wales mere moments after she and Patsy had moved in together. But I’m over it. Honest.

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations? Not usually, I get shy about it. The exceptions are my wife (but we met via fandom so that one maybe doesn’t count) and on occasion my best friend, who talked me round by being an enthusiastic sweetheart.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made? A few people have made fan art for my fics and it felt like the absolute highest compliment that could be paid to my writing. It was amazing to know that something I wrote meant enough to people to inspire them to go and create their own thing from it, and I loved getting to see other people’s takes on the version of the characters/story I had created. I think it's one of the best things about fandom communities! But I do understand why other people might feel differently about something they have poured so much of themselves into making, so I guess the main thing is trying to be respectful with it, crediting the source, and accepting people's boundaries. Basically I think we should all just be kind to each other and have fun.

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations? I'm generally seeking my own catharsis through writing fix-it fic for painful things that happened in canon, so I guess a certain amount of pain followed by the eventual fluffy feel good satisfaction of resolution, but honestly I consider it a win if I can evoke a whole spectrum of emotions along the way.

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it? Someone once liked my fic so much that she married me about it, so it’s hard to beat that haha. But on a more usual level, people making fanart for my fic was a HUGE one. And also just when people have left particularly in depth comments, commented on every chapter, told me they're rereading or that a fic of mine was their favourite etc... Basically just knowing that something I made has really meant something to someone gives me all of the warm fuzzy feelings, and I am very grateful to each and every person who has taken the time to tell me so!

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!) Originally I had the bouquet toss ficlet by @fazedlight here, because it just captures the characters so beautifully, but then I left this sitting in my drafts and it is now more than 24 hours ago that I saw it, so I'll add this adorable art by @awaitingrain, because LOOK AT IT! They are so cute??! Also I relate to gentle nomming as a display of affection XD

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share) "Lena Luthor was dangling from the side of a cliff, nothing between her and the vast chasm of space below but the small jutting nodule she was clinging to to keep from falling.

How the hell had she ended up here?

Well. She knew how of course.

Kara Danvers was how."

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several) SO MANY!! it’s hard to pick a favourite of hers honestly because she is a RIDICULOUSLY good writer, but I’m going to go with The Next Best Thing by @cynicalrainbows. I don’t tend to read many kidfics but this one is the absolute best I have come across, she captures the child perspective fantastically well while also being incredibly engaging and entertaining to an adult reader. It is what successfully pulled me into reading Six fanfic despite (at that point) never having seen the musical. Even if you haven’t either, I wholeheartedly recommend checking it out. Or go and read her new Paperdolls fic and help grow that fandom, which I think currently has all of two people in it!

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style? I do! I know how much I love it when people do it for me, so I try to leave comments on every chapter of the fics I read (or add tag notes for tumblr art/fic reblogs), and give specifics about what I like about it. Sometimes I just fully liveblog the fic reading experience, which is always fun. I also find it makes you engage and appreciate the work more because you’re taking your time to really think about it, AND it makes an author happy to receive (at least so I hope), which makes me happy.

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all? Not counting a couple of dump documents of ideas and snippets, technically 3, I guess? One is Forgotten, Not Forgiven (Supergirl) which is my big one and will definitely be finished. The others are less certain – Storybooks and Siren Suits (Call The Midwife) is the one kidfic I have ever written, and is both my longest story at 151,020 (published) words, and also the one I am least likely to finish, because it has been stuck on the same chapter for around 3 years now. The other is Small Problem… (Supergirl) which could be counted as a finished oneshot, but I will probably end up adding further Adventures of Tiny Kara at some point.

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?Well, see above re: 3 year stall on new updates. For actually fully finished and published stories I think it was around 6 months.

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published! Lena discovers Kara in Lex’s bed, then decides to lure her into friendship under false pretenses. Alex helps her do it. Forgotten, Not Forgiven.

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it? See above re: getting into fanfiction for Six!

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers That’s tough because there are so many amazing ones, but I think I will go with I Guess I Live Here Now by @fabulousglitch, because it was both the first fic I really got into for supercorp and also contained everything I wish the characters could have had in canon. I know I am several years late to the party so if you are in the supercorp fandom you have probably already read it, but if you haven’t read it GO READ IT, IT’S SO GOOD!

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

A mutual you have never actually spoken to but think seems cool @nottawriter

The most recent person whose content you engaged with (eg read a fic, reblogged art, whatever form you feel best fits) @sideguitars (and I still owe you a comment on AO3 for that!)

Someone whose content you saw via tags/reblogs and you followed them because of it @sssammich

Someone in your fandom that you think makes cool things @fazedlight

Someone in a different fandom that you think makes cool things @havaamina

Someone you always tag on things like this @cynicalrainbows

Someone you have never tagged before @thatonebirdwrites

Someone you would like to get to know better @thecasualqueer

Someone who makes art you like @pea-green (I don't know if you still do fandom drawing/writing these days, but your commissioned art is still up in my house/in my profile picture and I love it so much)

Someone who writes fics you like @fabulousglitch

[dearlyval]

xx. ㅤ Laisse-moi t’emmener au paradis.

DISCLAIMER

I. Le Personnage

Annalise Valérie Chermaine, affectionately known as Valérie or Val, is a dynamic and passionate film director making waves in the industry. Standing at 168 cm, she commands attention not just with her presence but with her vibrant personality. Valérie is known for her chatty nature, often engaging in lively conversations filled with heartfelt compliments and the occasional, sharp-witted sarcasm. Her perfectionist streak drives her to create films that are nothing short of masterpieces, though she balances this intensity with a collection of delightfully terrible jokes that never fail to lighten the mood on set. Valérie’s unique blend of charisma, dedication, and humor makes her a captivating force both behind the camera and in any room she enters.

II. L’écrivain

Welcome to the writer corner of the web! You can call me Charlene, a 21+ year old girl with a flair for spontaneous inspiration and a love for the written word. Based in the vibrant GMT +7 timezone, though I speak English fluently, please pardon any grammar mistakes I may have made.

Whether you’re here for storytelling, insightful musings, or just a friendly chat, I’m thrilled to have you join me on this journey. Let’s connect and explore the art of writing together!

Please Read Before Following

♥ Age and Conduct: I only accept interactions from individuals who are legal and over. I’m not open to connecting with anyone who is racist, homophobic, or any non-roleplayers.

♥ In-Character Interactions: I prefer all interactions to be strictly in-character. Out-of-character discussions are reserved for direct messages and will only occur if I feel comfortable and have built a connection with you.

♥ Content Warning: My content may include NSFW themes. Any mature content will be flagged appropriately and shared either on my timeline with a sensitive content warning or exclusively on Tumblr.

♥ Writing Style: I write in semi to descriptive literature and engage exclusively in English plots.

♥ Open to Plots: I’m open to non-romantic relations and plot discussions (SFW). Feel free to DM me to brainstorm or discuss ideas!

♥ Activity Level: My activity can be sporadic. If my reply is delayed, please don’t take it personally, I never intend to ignore anyone. For urgent matters, don’t hesitate to message me again.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

a luminous love || tom holland x reader

a/n: I feel like I should apologise for the length of this. I was not intending for it to be as long as it’s ended up, but I hope that doesn't put anyone off! there is also a follow up of this planned: the subsequent road-trip. both are definitely stand alone’s but there will be a few casual nods to this fic throughout. i’m thinking of doing a couple shorter blurb style fics as these longer ones take up a bit more time to plan and write. also looking to delve into my angsty side after doing so many slice of life, fluff pieces. let me know what you think, thank you all for reading and being amazing as always! come chat! x  

word count: 2556 warnings: alcohol use summary: its the annual summer BBQ extravaganza at the holland household

The patio doors were wide open, folded in on themselves as shimmering golden sunlight enveloped the kitchen. Sunbeams glinted off the mirrors and glass surfaces, rainbows dancing around the open space. Light music was playing from a portable speaker, the birds chirping along to the soothing tones. You could hear voices all talking over one another, loud laughter and a dog barking. From your position in the hallway you could see people sheltering in the shaded kitchen from the sweltering heat that was London on a glorious summer day. Bodies filtered in and out through the large open space, congregating both inside and out. You felt a gentle squeeze of your hand. Taking your eyes off the crowded room and glancing up, you saw tom had rested his bag in the hallway, and was waiting for you to do the same. “You okay?” he asked, as you stepped out of your trance and copied Tom’s actions, “It’s only the family, you’ve met them before - and a couple family friends...” he trailed off. “Oh.No, I’m excited I promise!” you reassured him. Tom grasped your shoulders, spinning you round slightly so you were standing directly in front of him, your bodies touching. His smile widened, pressing a feather light kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes quickly as you soaked up the closeness. You picked up the discarded gift bag, lost in amongst the jumble of things you and Tom had brought in for your quick stay at the Holland household. He entwined your fingers together, rubbing the back of your hand slightly with his thumb before jerking his head questioningly, ready to face the onslaught? you nodded, grinning. Pulling him in close beside you, he stretched his entwined hand across the back of your neck and up over your shoulder casually. “You weren’t having a summer Holland BBQ without your favourite, right?!” he bellows, as you both appear in the kitchen entry way. A myriad of eyes darted over to the pair of you, everything stilling for a millisecond. Even Tessa dropped her ball. Then the place erupted. “Oh honey!” “Ayy, about time guys.” “Favourite? yeah right!” “Only in your dreams you div.” “Oh look who he brought!! Thank god, I needed someone to talk about...” “My favourite non-Holland!” The cacophony of voices echoed around the room, people whooping and hollering before finishing their previous conversations. With another light squeeze, you feel the weight of Tom’s arm disappear from around you. His fingers ghosted across your back before he was hugging his brothers, pulling out high fives and fist bumps. You found yourself immediately enveloped into a perfume filled, soft hug, Nikki running a hand through your hair complimenting the slightly lighter colouring, “- I’m so glad you could both make it! I was worried you’d miss out what with your trip but it looks like we were just in time.” You were heading on a road-trip up to Scotland to visit your family since Tom had some proper free time off work, him wanting to drive and explore some pretty hidden routes with you. You’d decided to stop off for a night at his family’s house before heading off the next again morning. “We wouldn’t miss it! Yearly tradition and all, also it’s just a wee thing but please just accept it no questions.” Nikki pulls a face at the gift bag, “You don’t have to do that, you’re family - no need for gifts!” You can feel yourself falling into a grin at the comment before thanking her for letting you stay the night and for the amazing spread. You hear the pitter patter of tiny feet on the tiled floor, before your four-legged friend jumped up on her hind legs, tail thumping the ground and front legs pawing at yours. “Oh hi baby, hi Tess!” you coo softly, kneeling on one knee to stretch behind her ear and rub her belly as she continued to hop on her back legs, her tongue sticking out to lick your face.   Her ears suddenly pricked at a whistle, and both your heads turned as she noticed Tom - immediately forgetting about you and bounding over to him. He sticks his tongue out at you menacingly. You rolled your eyes, grinning as you stand back up again. Nikki leading you to a group of people gathered around the island, “Anyway! Let’s get you a drink and introduce you to some friends! Tell us how you’ve been, it’s been so long.” //// You were laughing with the twins, watching Paddy show some of his new football tricks. Tessa was trying to get in on the action, pink tongue hanging out as she ran around you all. You’d already been handed plenty of drink, a table set up in the corner of the kitchen with every kind of spirit laid out for guests to help themselves to. Massive beer crates were stacked next to the fridge, clearly on a rotation. You had met and talked with so many family friends already, before the groups dispersed and you were waved over by some familiar faces. The boys were taking up a whole section of the garden with their games. Far away from the BBQ and food, as directed by Dom. “What do you say to a game of beer pong?” Harry asked you, shaking out some of the curls that were beginning to stick to his forehead in the sweltering sunshine, “Bet a tenner I’ll sink you.” You laugh, smirking, “Alright kids, you’re on!” He groaned, “I hate that nickname, you’re older than us by literally two months!” Paddy acts as referee as you and Sam pair up against Harry and Harrison who were already squabbling about each other’s techniques. As you watched your last shot dive into the cup, bopping about slightly, you cheer loudly. The competition, beer drinking and sun already heating up your cheeks, staining them pink. You hug Sam in celebration and made a beeline to Harrison for a commiseration’s handshake-turned-hug, hearing Harry to have it out with his twin next to you.   “Cough up, bro.” You held out your hand upright as Harry begrudgingly slapped the ten pounds into your hand. You all start laughing as Harry downs the last cup, not before sloshing it all down himself. //// You’re lounging in a deckchair, listening to some childhood stories of the boys until you feel a shadow block your sun. “Hey darling, you alright?” He hands you two platefuls of food before pulling up an empty deckchair beside you. “Hey! So good. Warning I’ve definitely had more than my fair share of your gross beer.” You thank him for the food, pressing a soft and quick kiss to his cheek as he chuckled at you. He had already taken to the sun, his face now painted with a sun kissed glow. You take a minute, swallowing slightly as you take him in. The food plates resting on your lap, he lounges back slightly, a bottle of beer in one hand. Tess immediately jumps into his shorts clad lap, his striped linen shirt was unbuttoned and his dog tags shifted as she lay down, panting and eyes softly blinking in the sun, mouth upturned as if she was smiling. “You look good.” You whisper as you pass across his food, trying to avoid Tess’s eager snout as you did so. He quirks an eyebrow, “Oh really?” he laughs, “How many beers have you had exactly?” “Well, I played beer pong with your brothers...” He nods his head in understanding, smirking at the slight wobble in your voice. “Did you win?” “You bet I did!” The hand that was resting on Tess’s back he instead used to high-five you, laughing as he turned his head in search of his brothers. That same hand now resting on your bare thigh comfortably as his leg leant against yours. “Well, if you’ve got another round in you later...we can beat them again?” You agree enthusiastically, knowing that you’d be at a slight disadvantage seeing as the sun and alcohol was already going to your head, but that Tom would carry your team easily. More people gather round the two of you with their plates of food, engaging in conversation about golf, work, filming etc kindly including you in their conversations as you munched on your food, hoping it would soak up a little bit of the alcohol. You soon found yourselves back indoors, stomachs nice and full, as you took a break from the sun. Tom was leaning back into the arm of the sofa, wrapping his arm around your back and resting it on the opposite side of you, pulling you super close. He was talking animatedly to the man on his left, one of Dominic’s friends that you’d been introduced to earlier. You were fiddling with Toms tags, lightly dragging them back and forth on their chain as he conversed about his latest job. “I found it!” Nikki announced as she made her way over to the sofa, everyone shifting up as she squeezed in-between you and Harrison’s girlfriend, who you’d been chatting with on the opposite side of the couch. Tom groaned. “Not another one mum! I’m surprised you still have any left to show at this point.” Nikki ignored his objections before pulling open the photo album, and immediately you were taken in by the cute small toddler in a variety of places around the house; in the bath, under the christmas tree, in his high chair with chocolate birthday cake all round his face, outside in the grass on a blanket - giant smile plastered across his little face. Tom had rested his chin on your head, peeking over you. His cold tags making your back flinch slightly at the change in temperature. you cooed and laughed along with her as she took you through the book, telling you stories about her eldest, mischievous son. You could feel the vibrations against you as he laughed at different pictures, his mum leaning across to ruffle his hair. “You two would have the cutest kids, I’m just saying-“ Nikki blurted out. Tom groaned and immediately pulls himself and you up off the couch, “-I’m just saying! Tom!” “Oh, here we go! Mum you’re cut off,” he says laughing, guiding you back out into the sunshine, and past the BBQ, “Dad, mums at it again.” Dom sighs, then laughs before heading inside, “What has got into her!”   You stifle a giggle, Tom with a hand on either shoulder his body pressed flush against you as he propelled you through the throng of people gathered round a fire pit, and led you back to the beer pong table. “Please ignore everything my mother just said.” You spin around quickly so you’re chest to chest. Bringing a hand up to cup the back of his neck as you pull him down just slightly, whispering in his ear, “Whilst we’re definitely not ready for kids yet, I’m definitely not against some practice in techniques...are you?” He pulls his head back sharply, golden eyes coming to life in the glittering sun. His entire face breaks out into a smile, “You’re such a tease, move it!” 

Spinning you back around, he presses you forward brushing your hair behind your shoulder as he sinks some light kisses into the side of your neck, as you both continue towards the beer pong. You pretend to shove him off, his breath tickling your cheek. 

“PDA! PDA! Ew, get a room guys!” Paddy jokes, cupping his hand around his mouth and announcing to the garden. “What are you, twelve?! That’s it Pads!” Tom suddenly bounds away from you, leading to a chase as Paddy runs nimbly around the garden; dodging people, chairs, cups and plates - Tom hot on his heels. You burst out laughing, shaking your head as Tom lifted Paddy, chucking him over his shoulder. You sat yourself down on the dry grass, waiting for the boys to finish their play fighting. As you do, you feel a soft body lean itself against you, tail hitting off your legs. “Hey baby,” you murmur, clapping and stoking Tess as she lay belly up in the sun, “Whose a clever girl?” //// “Here.” You sit up, having been lying on the grass since the latest beer pong match which led to copious amounts of drinking games. You’d questioned if the world would stop spinning if you lay down, a chorus of laughter coming from the boys and their friends.  Tom passes you a glass of ice-cold water which you gratefully take, before hunkering down next to you himself, sitting with his knees up and his arms clasped around them. You take a couple sips before balancing your cup in the tufts of grass, he opens up one of his arms and you cuddle into him. “Your brothers suck,” you joke, the water chasing away your light headache. He laughs. “Thank you for pushing our trip back to fit this in,” You rest your head on his shoulder and look out at all the people, still having a great time despite the fact the sun was slowly disappearing below the trees. “Tom. Of course, my folks completely understand. I love your family and you don’t always get the time off to see them. What’s one extra day, hm?” He turns his face to look at you and you lift your head off his shoulder. You had a spattering of pink across your cheekbones and nose, your freckles peeking out. Your hair was falling out of its messy half up-do. yes twinkling as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand brushed against your hair and the side of your face before he tilted your chin upwards and took your mouth in his, brushing his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, letting him press soft clusters of kisses on your nose and cheekbones. You laugh and bring him back to the centre. “I love you,” he announced, taking a breath before kissing you again - you unconsciously reached for the back of his neck to pull yourself in closer. “I love you too.” you sigh, shifting yourself to now lie between Toms’ legs. letting him whisper soothing words into your ears, of all the places you were going to visit on your trip.

“Oi lovebirds,” Harry comes bouncing over to the two of you. Tom leaning back on his elbows as you sit comfortably between his legs, him tightening them around you.

“I took these. Thought you might like them. Who’d of thought? You guys actually look really cute.” You hit his arm, as he dramatically yelps and rubs at the attacked area.

He held out the polaroid’s as Tom balanced on one elbow, shifting his weight to the left as he reached out and took the pictures.

“These are actually sick Haz, thanks bro!” He shifts back, sitting up with your back pressed flush to his stomach as he brought his arms round for you both to look at the small collection of photographs Harry had taken throughout the day.

You smile wide at the joy and love plastered on your faces, a tiny miniature you beaming up at your goofy boyfriend squinting in the sunlight. You feel Tom’s arms wrap around you tighter. breathing each other in, you feel him relax behind you, you trace patterns along his sun kissed skin with your fingers as the sun begins to paint the sky in gorgeous oranges and pinks.

[thefanfictionartist]

The Captain’s Paramour

A/N: I worked hard write this and would really appreciate any love you can give this story. I do intend to write at least one more part to this and would love to hear any feedback or requests that you all have! If any of you have a request for a one-shot, please feel free to message me!

Pairing(s): Tooru Oikawa X Y/N; Hajime Iwaizumi X Y/N; Koutarou Bokuto X Y/N; implied Aoba Johsai X Y/N

Summary

Growing up, Y/N knew that Tooru Oikawa was someone who intimidated her, regardless of her crush on him, and she opted to stay away. When they start college together and Y/N joins as team manager, Oikawa charms his way to being her boyfriend. Happy in the start of the relationship, Y/N has yet to wonder if she was right to stay away from Aoba Johsai’s captain from the beginning.

Word Count: 4.4k

Rated M for Mature; intended for 18+ audiences.

Warning: This fan fiction contains a toxic relationship and bullying. If you are not comfortable with manipulation, dub-con, degrative language, and otherwise abusive aspects, please do NOT read this. You have been warned. 

~         ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~ He was someone you told yourself to only admire from afar. Regardless of the fact that you had known him since the two of you could attend school. Even then, you hadn’t spoken much to Tooru Oikawa. 

It was intimidating to have him even look in your direction. 

He had a god-like presence that always shines too brightly when he smiles. His eyes had a way of singling out his admirers like a lion stalking his prey. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to stop going to volleyball games because you knew that if he ended up approaching you, you’d become a blubbering mess. At least, that’s how you always pictured it.

But rather than avoiding him at all costs, you couldn’t help to watch him at his practices and games. If there was anything that no one could deny, it was that Oikawa had a talent that was nearly impossible to beat. 

His talent alone had entranced you, and after years of watching him play in elementary and middle school, you found yourself applying for the manager position on Aoba Johsai’s boys volleyball team. 

Purely because now you had an obsession with the game. 

And since you’ve been so observant, you knew that you could at least help the boys on the team in a practical manner.

As a first year, you doubted that you would be accepted…

But after a week of waiting, you found yourself sitting in one of the school’s gymnasiums, helping Oikawa set up the net in the middle of the court for practice. You found that he was actually quite disarming in conversation, making it so that you could speak with him easily. Your anxiety about being around him slipped away with a single ‘Hello.’, and you weren’t sure if that unsettled you or not. 

When you applied to be Seijoh’s manager, you expected the long hours and dedication you’d have to put in. Actually, you welcomed the distraction it gave you as an extracurricular. 

What you didn’t expect was the disdain most girls had for you. 

Most girls at Aoba Johsai hated you and the time you got with who they considered to be the hottest guys in school. They’d blatantly ignore you and write cruel messages on your locker and desk. In the few times that any of the boys were present during these incidents, they’d come to your defense. And you couldn’t have been more grateful to have your team back you up. 

You would always assure them that the bullying didn’t bother you. It didn’t bother you much when you had friends on the volleyball teams all over the country, including the couple of female managers they had. 

It was something you reminded yourself of when the crude comments written on your social media did bother you. Although, the harassment progressed farther online with absurdly edited pictures of you on certain profiles. And the comments multiplied by the day, making it all the more worse.

When the remarks got particularly bad, you would hide yourself in the janitorial closet of the gymnasium, crying in the privacy of the vacant room. 

Having the girls at school, and only the girls at school, torment you was something you could deal with. 

But having strangers command you to die and tell you that you were worthless hurt you more than you could have ever expected. 

You were sniffling softly and nearly at the end of your tears when someone walked into the closet. Looking up at the shadow of whoever had come in, you wipe furiously at your damp cheeks, trying to erase the fact that you were just bawling your eyes out. 

“Oh- sorry, I’ll be out in a sec-” Speaking softly to the intruder, you stand up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. 

“N/N-chan?” Oikawa’s voice surprises you. 

“Tooru..”

“Why are you in here?” He takes a moment to observe your features and asks another question, “Have you been crying?”

Anxiously, you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before fiddling with the ends of it. A sarcastic, curt laugh tumbles from your throat as your red-rimmed eyes find the linoleum floor. “Yeah..” You sniffle before adding, “Pretty lame, right?”

Before you have a chance to look at him again, Oikawa’s arms wrap around you in a binding hug. 

The jacket he wears feels cool against your skin and you find yourself leaning your heated cheeks against it, silent tears rolling down your cheeks from the gesture you’d never expect from him. 

“No.. No, you’re not lame at all, Y/N.” His mouth rests against the top of your head and you can feel his lips twist into a small smile. “Those people are gonna get what’s coming to them for being so mean to you, I’m sure of it. In the meantime, you should just ignore it, ya?” He leans back to look at you, thumb carefully wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe then they’ll get bored and find someone else to pick on.” He adds with his trademark dazzling smile. 

Nodding, you agree with him, leaning back onto his shoulder as he rubbed your back to comfort you. In that moment, your personal relationship with Tooru became much more than it was before. 

As far as you knew, Oikawa hadn’t spoken with anyone about what happened that day, but you did notice many things start to change. 

For one thing, the atrocious bullying had stopped quite abruptly and you now only had to deal with a few harmless glares during your classes. For another, Oikawa seemed to pay more attention to you. Not that you were complaining. 

He had a way of drawing you in and making you even more smitten with him, and he knew it. 

It didn’t take long at all for him to claim you as his girlfriend. 

And at first, you felt like you were walking on Cloud Nine. There was no way that you could’ve fallen any deeper in love with him. He was so considerate and gentlemanly and kind. He brought you on nice dates when he didn’t have practice and showered you with compliments all the time. And when he touched you, you felt a pleasure you could never imagine before. He made you happy. He did. 

Really. 

So you promised yourself that doing things like this wasn’t a big deal. 

Because Tooru wanted it. And you loved him. 

           - - - - -

“That’s right, baby girl. All of Iwa-chan’s dick in that pretty little mouth of yours.” Oikawa prompted you from the side of the room, sporting a sizable bulge as he watched the action. “I want you to make him feel really good, hm?”

Following Oikawa’s instructions, you force yourself to choke on more of Iwaizumi’s girth, your eyes watching as his head tilts back to let out a deep groan. 

Trying to evoke more of his noises, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to pump the inches you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Behind you, Oikawa tutts, shaking his head. “Naughty girl.. You should know it’s improper to use your hands.”

Your scalp screams as he pulls you back with a fistful of your hair. A pitiful whimper leaves your lips which are covered in a messy amount of saliva. 

You fall into Oikawa’s lap weakly, the back of your head on his shoulder as he pries your legs open to display your arousal. As you attempt to close your legs, embarrassed that you’re so turned on in this situation, he hooks his legs between yours, so that his knees rest on the inside of yours. 

“Look at this Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s slender fingers slide along the puffed lips of your pussy, causing you to whine and grind your hips. 

Before you can receive any lasting relief, Oikawa pulls his fingers away from you, displaying the way your slick sticks and drips down his fingers. “She’s such a cock-hungry slut that she’s already dripping after sucking dick.”

His fingers dip down again, and this time he teasingly enters your twitching hole and pulls a moan from you. 

Oikawa starts to curl his fingers against you in a way that you know will have you seeing white. Skillfully he adjusts his wrist to reach deeper into you, brushing continuously against the sweet spongy texture of your walls. 

“Tooru- ‘M close!” 

And just like that, he pulls his fingers away, making you cry out. “Please, I wanna cum, Toru!” Your eyes brim with tears as you look at him, desperate for the release you nearly had. 

“That’s not my name.” His eyes are dark and he gives you a small smirk before saying, “If you wanna cum so bad..” He pushes you unceremoniously off his lap, relishing in the whine you give him. “You better beg Iwa-chan really nice.”

You look up to Oikawa from the ground, wide-eyed and begging. “Sir..” 

Giving Hajime a blowjob while Tooru watched was the original agreement and you weren’t sure that you much liked this spontaneous new plan. 

“Please, sir..” Your hands reached for his lap, intending to try pleasuring him so he’ll want to finish you himself. “I want you to make me cum, please.” Oikawa’s vice grip stops your hands before they are even close to touching him. The grip is tight enough it brings tears to your eyes, and you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for later on. 

“You heard me, pet.” He nearly spits in your face and you flinch at the nickname as tears collect on your lashes. “If you want to cum, you have to have Iwaizumi fuck you.”

He pushes you away with ease, letting you fall back onto your palms.

“So you better beg him hard.” His eyes flash with sadistic intent. “And before you even think about it.. There’s no way I’ll let you finish yourself tonight. I’ll tie you to the headboard if I have to insure it.” The smile he gives you doesn’t match his words.

When you turn to look at Hajime, you can see pity in his eyes. Like he can see just how uncomfortable you are with Oikawa’s behavior. 

But both of you knew that Oikawa wouldn’t let you leave until he got what he wanted. 

And that he got. 

        - - - - -

Events like that intense night with Hajime and Tooru became typical for you. And even though you had expressed your disinterest with being shared, you found yourself still wanting to make him happy. 

What started out as a normal relationship started to feel like ownership. 

You dwelled on how similar you actually became to the posts those girls used to make about you being a slut, and that just seemed to make you feel worse about yourself. 

So you would go to Oikawa again and again, seeking that warm comfort he gave you that one day in the janitor’s closet, crying your eyes out about how worthless and whorish you felt. And you’d be comforted by him for just enough time to make you feel okay before he would make you feel like a whore again; crying under him as he pounded you into the mattress. 

Then his pretty words would bring you snuggling up to him in bed as he told you how precious and special you were, and how much he loved you.

Even though you knew that you felt terrible and wanted to end things with him, you’d stay because you were in love, and because Tooru told you he needed you. 

You told yourself that he at least made you happy sometimes, and that it was normal for him to flat out ignore you after games because he needed to make his fangirls happy. It was understandable to a degree. A guy like him would need popularity to bring him where he wanted to go and you supported him one hundred percent. 

It wasn’t like you relied on him completely for happiness. 

You had friends for that. 

Most of your friends were from the boys volleyball league; people you had met during the many, many volleyball camps you had attended with the Aoba Johsai. 

You couldn’t have been more grateful for the frequent training camps in your third year, given the growing uneasiness you had around your own team. The only people on your team you felt comfortable around were the coaches and Iwaizumi, who was always respectful to you. 

After a while, you had caught on to the fact that Oikawa was making Iwaizumi feel like he had to do what he says, similarly to the way he makes you feel. 

Shortly after, you heard an argument break out between them and though you haven’t explicitly talked to each other about it, you knew that Iwaizumi had gotten fed up and told Oikawa he wasn’t gonna fuck his girlfriend anymore. And that Tooru should stop using me like a sex doll to be thrown around because it’s pretty clear that I don’t like it.

You had always thought of Iwaizumi as a protector and close friend. Someone who was gentle with the people he cares about. 

He always made a point of treating you as a gentleman should. 

In fact, most of the boys who weren’t on your team treated you kindly and warmly. It was truly no wonder that you enjoyed the training camps so much. 

Or nights like this one. 

When the second and third years from the prefecture would decide to throw a party. The presence of other school’s teams made you more comfortable with the environment. 

Finally you’re able to relax. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/N!” Bokuto’s voice makes you genuinely smile. You turn to look at him from where you stand on Kuroo’s porch, seeing as he was the one with the idea to throw a party during spring break. 

It takes you a second to realize that you haven’t seen Bokuto much in the past few months. 

But it’s like having the first breath of fresh air in a long time when you find him smiling just as wide as he had the last time you saw him. It’s enough to keep you floating, just like it always is. “Hi, Bo.” You answer without matching his energy, because you couldn’t scrape up the vitality to do so. 

His head tilts to the side and instead of pity, you see confusion in his expression before turning to lean your forearms against the railing like you were before. Your eyes simply watch the sky turn orange and fuschia as the sun sets, your face void of any expression except a small smile that Bokuto placed there.

“Uh oh..” You hear Bokuto approach you but remain looking at the evening sky. “I didn’t do something stupid, did I?”

A glance to Fukurodani’s ace has you softly giggling at the puppy dog eyes he gives you. He’s at your side, bent at the knees so he can be shorter than you, preparing to beg to be forgiven for whatever he thinks that he’s done. “No, of course not, Kotarou.” You shake your head at his words. “You’re nothing but an angel.” 

Your smile gets a tiny bit bigger as you pat his head, careful not to ruin the way he styled it. 

“Okay, then…” He brings his hand to his chin, straightening himself out to lean his elbow on the porch railing. Owlish eyes observe you carefully, a look of deep concentration etched into Bokuto’s features. It’s as though he thinks if he stares long enough, he’ll be able to read your mind. 

You look so much more dull and lifeless now than you had been when he first met you. You had bags beneath your beautiful eyes and your cheeks had sunken in a bit. What made him the most upset was how your eyes didn’t reflect your smile.

“I give up.. Why do you look so sad?”  His voice softly coos as he asks the question, head tilting with inquiry.

You shrug and give an unconvincing, “I’m just tired.” 

Bokuto is overwhelmingly unprepared for how depressed you sound. His smile falters with unease. It’s normally not so easy to read other people’s emotional states for him. He knew he could be dim-witted at times but this was not one of them. It was clear that whatever had you so down wasn't something you wanted to talk about. Regardless of how much he wanted to know, Bokuto felt it was his job to try to get your mind off whatever was upsetting you. 

In a few seconds, his smile is back in full force, wanting nothing more than to find a way to make you happy. 

“C’mon.” Bokuto holds out his hand for you to take, excitement flashing in his eyes. 

Now it’s your turn to be confused, but rather than asking questions, your hand slips into his and you let him pull you through the house to Kuroo’s backyard. Once you’re there, he lets go of your hand and runs to a playset that probably hadn’t been touched in quite a while. 

There are plenty of people lying in the grass and talking around the pool, filling the air with empty chatter combined with the music that flowed outside from the house. 

Your eyebrows knit together in a disapproving manner. “Bo..” 

The childish excitement he has when he sits on one of the two swings on the playset is admittedly a bit contagious. But, to save yourself embarrassment from accidentally breaking Kuroo’s childhood playhouse, you try arguing as you approach the volleyball player. 

“This is meant for kids like 10 and under, you know?” 

His eyes glint with competitiveness as he pushes himself back on the swing. “I don’t care, I bet I’ll still swing higher than you.”

Your eyes narrow and you quickly find yourself plopping into the other swing, quickly accepting the challenge. “Oh, you’re on, Mr. Owl.” Pushing off the ground with as much force as you can muster, your mind focuses solely on getting your own swing higher and higher. A grin spreads across your face, brightening your features as you allow yourself to have genuine fun. 

The rusted chains of the old swings squeak with sudden use, but luckily don’t show any sign of falling apart. 

Seeing as Bokuto’s body is dense with muscle, you find yourself soaring higher than him in no time; laughter seeping out of the both of you in a hysterical manner. “I win!” You shout as you reach the peak of your swing, glancing in the direction of Koutarou. Even though you can only see a blurred version of him, you can tell that he is wearing a look of utmost determination.

“No! I’m not even at my highest yet! Just wait!” He shouts eagerly and you concede.

“Fine, you have one more minute to beat me.”

In that minute, your eyes drift to the sky and appreciate the dazzling stars above. If you focus hard enough you start to recognize a couple constellations. The first thing you see is Orion’s belt, then the whole of Orion. 

As you pick out the stars of the Little and Big Dipper, you relax with the free feeling of your hair blowing back and forth with each rock of your legs. 

This is what you would imagine flying to feel like, and you get lost in the fantasy of having the power to fly away from the groping hands of your team. Although, you have no idea where you would fly. Maybe you find somewhere like Neverland and be able to live to your own whims and wishes. Or maybe on some desolate tropical island with natives who actually respected you. 

You’re so entranced with your thoughts that you don’t realize when you are genuinely airborne until you hear Bokuto’s voice shouting your name with panic. 

The impact with the ground comes just as soon as you’ve realized that you’ve tumbled face-first off the swing. “N/N!” Oikawa’s voice beckons you to look for him from where you are on the ground. When your eyes find him jogging towards you from the house, your cheeks burn with guilt at the thoughts you had. 

Bokuto’s at your side before Tooru and insistently, yet gently, squishes your cheeks in both of his warm palms to get you to look at him. 

Apparently you hadn’t been answering his questions while Oikawa's presence clouded your mind. “Hm?” You raise an eyebrow at Bokuto, telling him that you’re listening. 

“Are you hurt?” 

You bat away his hands and shake your head while brushing the dust from your knees, which had taken most of the impact. “M’ fine. Just scraped my knees a little.” A reassuring smile settles on your face, although it falls just slightly when Oikawa approaches your side. 

You could swear for a moment that Bokuto picked up on the shift in your mood when Oikawa appeared, but ended up just blaming that on wishful thinking. 

“I’ll go get some bandages.” The ace leaves you with the setter before you can detest.

Tooru remains silent in an eerie manner, and it takes a lot of courage for you to look him in the eyes. “Can you stand?” He reaches out to you with long slender fingers and when you grab them, a shudder runs down your spine from how cold they feel. 

“Yeah.” You answer, and within a moment you’re on your feet, being pulled into the kitchen by your tyrannical boyfriend. 

“Sit.” He motions to the island countertop and you obey, swinging your legs as you wait for Koutarou to emerge from the bathroom with the promised bandages. When he arrives, Oikawa swiftly takes the bandaids from him and bends down to apply them to your knees. 

Oddly, he seems to completely disregard Bokuto offering to help bandage you. In fact, it honestly seemed as though he were ignoring the ace. He must’ve gotten the same vibe, because within a minute Koutarou left the kitchen with Kuroo. 

“There. All better, right?” Tooru smiles as he gives you a kiss on the cheek, holding your hips to help you off of the counter. “Come sit with me for a while, hm?” 

His fingers swirl delicately at the skin peeking from between your shirt and shorts; you resist pulling away from the icy chill of his gaze and nod. “Yeah.” You agree and follow him into the living room, which was now clouded with smoke. It was hard to tell the exact source, but it was clear that a few of the people in the room were extremely high. 

After a few moments, the smoke was dizzying. 

You were never one to indulge in intoxication and you never really saw an opportunity where you would feel comfortable with it. The atmosphere of this room made you queasy, even more so when Oikawa pulled you into his lap on the sofa. 

He pulls you close against him, and for a moment you swear you feel like you’re suffocating. Your mouth becomes dry as you pull in an uneasy breath of pungent air. 

“ ‘Kawa, I need some water.” Your voice is small against the thumping music inside the house, but Tooru acknowledges your request. 

“Oi, Matsu!” The setter calls to his teammate from across the room. “Can you get Y/N some water?” Miraculously, the dark-haired middle blocker hears his team captain and within a short amount of time, you have a glass of water in your hands and chug it thirstily. 

Oikawa chuckles from behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. “Slow down babe, the water isn’t going anywhere. I promise.” He kisses the junction of your neck a bit more sultrously than you would like in public and you push your shoulder up to signal your apprehension with the gesture. 

He chuckles again, his chilling breath caressing your neck and making you tense. Another kiss touches the nape of your neck as Tooru snakes his hands to your inner thighs, fully intending to pull them apart. 

“Not now, Tooru.” You keep your voice quiet, not wanting to make a scene around so many people as your hands pull him away from your thighs. 

If he heard you, you couldn’t tell but it was clear in your body language that you were not comfortable. Oikawa, either ignoring your words or not getting the message, again latched his lips to your neck, this time nibbling to mark you. “C’mon, don’t you think our friends here deserve a show.” He cooed the words to you while his fingers nimbly began to unbutton your shorts. 

“No.” You push his hands away again and this time strain to get up and walk away. His strong arms easily pull you back down against an obvious bulge that grinds against you. 

“Tooru, Stop it.” Your voice gets slightly desperate, realizing that he really isn’t letting you go, and that your pleas are falling upon deaf ears. Writhing, you free yourself of his grasp momentarily before his hand is wrapped around your wrist to pull you back. 

“Oi- Shittykawa.” Hajime’s voice breaks Oikawa’s concentration and focuses the setter’s glare on his ace. “She said ‘No.’ So fucking stop it.”

With his focus on Iwaizumi, Tooru’s grip loosens and you take the opportunity to leave the vertigo-inducing room to find one that feels more safe. 

The house feels much bigger now than it did when you first arrived, and even after leaving the living room, you swear your surroundings are spinning. When you reach the front door, you hear faint chants reminiscent of a fight in the very background of your mind. Whether or not the fight was actually happening, you had no idea. 

All you knew was that there seemed to now be two door knobs that led out onto the porch. 

You blink and focus extra hard and end up grabbing for both of them. One of your hands ghosts through the imposter knob, while the other successfully twists and opens the door to the fresh air outside. 

Hope that the outside air would alleviate your symptoms quickly washed away as the wooden panels of the porch lurched beneath your feet, causing you to fall. Despite the desperate desire you had to get away from this place, you laid your feverish body on the ground. 

The only thing you could do against the spinning world was to close your eyes and hope it would go away soon. 

[cactusradical]

keeping yourself safe while dating: avoiding redpill and pickup artist tactics

I thought I'd put together a quick list of the most common tactics predatory men use to gain access to women and abuse them. if you're attracted to men, please have a look and keep these in mind. as soon as you're able to spot them it becomes so much easier to avoid these toxic men. this is not intended to be a post about abuse in general. if you would like more information about all stages of abuse including early red flags, explanations of behaviour, and exit strategies, I would highly recommend lundy bancroft's 'why does he do that?'. links to free pdfs are widely available, including on my blog.

negging

a backhanded compliment in order to gently lower your self-esteem, intended to make you try harder to 'prove yourself' to him, and be more likely to accept his male attention for the sake of validation.

an example of this would be 'you're pretty for a ______' (generally directed at ethnic minority women and fat women). you can see that while he is calling you 'pretty', he is also denigrating your ethnicity/weight, making you eager to prove that you're 'one of the good ones'. a similar example would be 'you're not like other women'.

if he does this you should probably just leave him there. coming up with a 'witty' comeback is pretty pointless and a waste of your valuable time.

touch escalation

men will sometimes try and create a false sense of intimacy with women they barely know by gently touching them in innocent places, such as on the arm, hand or back.

this is supposed to 'ease you into' more intimate touching (ie sex) and test your boundaries.

if a man does this, be attentive and remain firm in your boundaries. try and create physical distance. if he remains persistent, he is not safe to be around.

date-prolonging

if you are on a first date with a manipulative man, he may prolong the date by asking you to stay longer than planned or by moving locations (eg you planned to meet for a coffee, but then he wants to go to a bowling alley and then go for dinner). this is used to build intimacy unnaturally quickly in order to obtain sex, as well as to gain more information about you

do not allow this to happen, and if a man becomes upset at you asserting this boundary, he is unsafe, especially if you are refusing to go to an isolated environment such as his home.

hot and cold behaviour

this is pretty self-explanatory, and is done to create a heightened emotional state so that you become addicted to the attention. a person who is genuinely interested in you will never give you mixed messages or be this fickle. if a man does this, do not pursue a relationship with him.

triangulation

this is an obvious one: men will make themselves look like they have many 'options'. they may frequently bring up their attractive exes, regale you with stories about women who are 'obsessed' with them, flirt with other women in front of you or have an inappropriately intimate relationship with a close female friend. this is intended to make you feel like you have to compete for his attention. again, avoid men who do this. they do not respect you.

love-bombing

a man will shower you with excessive praise and attention to make you dependent on him. he may say he loves you inappropriately early on, ask you to live with him inappropriately early on, and begin discussing your future together inappropriately early on. this creates a stronger emotional bond in your mind and makes you more dependent on him. this is also often an early red flag of future abuse.

dread

this is a series of techniques employed by these men to 'keep you in line' in a relationship, especially when they feel they are being denied sex. it includes ignoring you, conspicuously flirting with other women or threatening the end of the relationship/divorce. it is incredibly manipulative and a form of abuse. please, please listen to me: if your partner does this, leave him.

this stomach-churning post goes into disgusting detail on the process of doing this. one illustrative quote: 'after yet another sexual denial just look her in the eye and say something like: "You know I need to have sex with you to have a relationship. You understand this is a biological need for men, right?"'

[astaroth1357]

How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend; Vol 2

So You Pissed Him Off, Have You?

Notice: Due to an impending lawsuit for libel and misinformation, Mammoney, Inc. has filed for bankruptcy. All past guides from their company have been revised and re-released. All future printing will be handled Solo Man, Press.

Oh? Is there trouble in your devilish paradise? Well, there’s bound to be a spat or two between lovers but things can get... complicated if one half of your pair could easily wipe out a nation. Attempting to calm down your demon can be tricky, however in this volume of How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend we will be covering the best methods available for you to do just that! With our instructions and a deft touch, you’ll manage to avoid your boyfriend’s hellish rage and get right back to enjoying that tender, sacrilegious relationship you’ve come to love!

This volume only covers if your demon boyfriend is mad at YOU. If there is SOMEONE ELSE making him mad, please consult Volume One!

Lucifer’s mad at You

You are in a very tricky situation so treat your next actions with the utmost care…

First, ascertain who is at fault for what has occurred. If it’s you, then figure out the severity. A minor infraction can be smoothed over easily enough with some explanation and sincere apology.

More severe breaches of trust will be harder get past. Plead your case but don’t attempt to excuse your actions. Acknowledge fault and, again, apologize. If he seems receptive, attempt to touch him in some way like on the hand or arm but no higher. This a literal demonstration of your attempt to reconnect.

This is the best that you can do for now, but he should acknowledge your efforts as long as you approached it correctly.

If it’s his fault… as far as he’s concerned it’s still your fault, unfortunately. It’s the pride in him speaking. 

Ask him what he believes you’ve done wrong and assess from there. Some things may be better to give a brief apology to, but no more. You don’t need to explain yourself for something you didn’t do. It may be best to leave him for a few hours after this and let tensions cool.

If the accusation is too egregious, you have the option to not apologize at all. This will likely anger him further if you give no explanation, though. Explain why you don’t think you should have to say sorry, then leave. Call for his brothers if you need someone there to intervene.

Now you wait. Unfortunately, it's an inevitability. Lucifer will need time to process and do a post-mortem on what happened. If he was truly the one at fault, he’ll acknowledge it to himself but never admit it out-loud. He may extend an olive branch in the form of a gift (the size and expense of which will be directly proportional to how much he messed up) but that will be it.

If you forgive him, then life can return to normal. If not, consult our other material: Can I Breakup with My Demon Boyfriend?

Mammon’s mad at You

It is first important to discern between his usual “anger” and actual anger.

If you see any of these signs: Blushing, stuttering, overly defensive denials, general tsundere-ness then you are likely only dealing with “anger.” Feel free to tease appropriately.

If these signs are not there then something is very wrong. Find out what it is, he will be forthright with a little persistence. (i.e. bug him until he says something. He will likely want to tell you anyway)

Attempt to remedy the problem as quickly as possible. This will no small matter. A truly upset Mammon should not be ignored.

If you have done something wrong, an apology may be in order. Do be sincere if you can because Mammon will appreciate the effort.

Cheer him up with either compliments or physical contact, head pats and cuddles work most effectively. If his face is red, though, you’re likely on the right track in general.

He isn’t one to hold a grudge so this should settle any brief irritation that’s derailed your relationship. Take care not to upset him this much again in the future.

Leviathan’s mad at You

Again, he’s probably jealous but now he’s going to be jealous and possessive. Admittedly, not the best combination.

Stay. Calm. If he’s already hysterical then adding onto the situation won’t do anyone any good. Patience may be difficult to hang onto, but it’s crucial to getting through this on the other side.

Physical contact is still important but NOT TOO EARLY. If he has his guard up he may just slap away your attempts to touch him.

Chances are he’s already built up a narrative in his head. This will not be easy to combat, especially if his suspicions aren’t true.

Denial will be tricky. You don’t want him to accept his false narrative as truth, but there’s going to be only so many times you can say, “No, that didn’t happen” before he stops believing you.

Deny his story first, firmly and with no room for doubt then redirect the conversation to asking why he’s so worried about it. Get to the heart of what’s making him feel so self-conscious and start soothing him from there. He’ll be feeling vulnerable, so a delicate touch is necessary.

NOW is the time for physical contact. He still needs to know you’re there so you should get as close to him as possible. He’ll probably be holding onto you pretty tightly. He won’t mean to bruise you if he does. 

Hold him close and don’t even think about letting him go until he’s ready. He needs to know that you'll stay with him even if this is what he has to offer. Your embrace is not just reassurance, it’s a promise. I hope you're prepared to keep it.

For more on how to comfort Levi, please seek out: How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend.

Satan’s mad at You

Oh my, aren’t you in a pickle? The focus should be on the immediate concerns first, then the long term. Don’t try to resolve both at once.

The immediate concern is that you have a very ticked off Wrath in front of you and he will make his displeasure known. Apologize. Apologize now. Is it actually your fault? Who knows. That's a long term concern and you should focus first on getting him to calm down fast.

Satan will not listen to reason right now, especially not if you're the only one offering it so don’t even try.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to touch an angry Satan. He's going to be far too gone for cuddle time to smooth things over.

You should give him space. He likely doesn't want to be mad at you and is very aware of just how dangerous this situation is for you both. If you take a step back, he'll do what he needs to in order to calm himself down (which is probably going to involve property damage of some kind but better it a bookshelf than you).

Wait until he is no longer shouting, then you may approach and carefully plead your case. You better have some airtight logic if you want to convince him he's actually the one in the wrong about something, but if he is he will apologize.

Of course, if you are at fault then you should apologize and attempt to explain. Even if you don’t have the best justification, you can still win him back if you can prove you had good intentions.

Unfortunately, even if he understands your reasoning he may still be a little miffed... Speaking candidly, if there's still residual anger left it may be best just to f*ck it out. This is not a joke, it's a legitimate way to redirect lingering negative emotions in a relationship. So have at it, I suppose. Just have a safe word ready because you'll need it.

Asmodeus’ mad at You

Again, reason and logic will fail you, especially at the very start. He WILL be upset and he WILL lash out. Likely verbally.

DO NOT engage in a fight of insults with Asmodeus. Not only will you lose but the situation may escalate to the point that your relationship will suffer permanent damage.

Remain calm, but you need not take the abuse. You are well within your right to tell him that you will leave the room if he does not cease the hostility. Don’t mean this idly either because your presence will be very important to Asmo. He hates to be ignored.

If you must leave, do so. Don’t turn back even if he pleads. Wait for him to come to you, because he will, and then a civil conversation can commence. Apologize if necessary.

After his initial anger has passed, Asmo will be very quick to feel remorseful. Despite his ferocity, he should be rather forgiving (at least to you anyway).

He will want make-up sex, for his own comfort if nothing else, but as always he will not force the matter. It may be much sweeter than usual, though, because that’s his way of saying “I’m sorry.”

Beelzebub’s mad at You

Oh dear.... You have either denied/stolen his food, hurt his family, or somehow just really ticked him off...

If you denied him food, get more.

If you hurt his family, plead for mercy.

If you’ve just really, really ticked him off, I’m not even sure what you did but you probably ought to apologize and maybe rethink your life choices... They must not be very good.

Belphegor’s mad at You

This will happen, but again Belphegor is pretty lazy. He’s more likely to give you the silent treatment than he is to blow up in your face.

Your challenge now is to get him to talk to you. Unlike with Mammon, he won’t be itching to say anything so a slight nudge isn’t going to cut it.

Start by trying to be frank about the situation. Attempt to sit him down and say that you wish to talk things out. Be empathetic, approachable, and sincere. This should elicit at least some attention from him for most issues.

If he intends on holding out further, then you have already done your part to the best of your ability. Leave the door open to that discussion, but go about your day until he’s ready for it. It won’t be easy, nor will it feel good, but it’s important to set boundaries and not allow his silence to punish you when things could be worked out more productively.

I assure you, Belphie does love you and he will miss you. It may take a little time, but he will eventually approach you to have that talk. Resolve what happened together and then things can return to normal, cuddles and all.

If you are looking to calm down your demon before he hurts someone else, please consult Volume One: Tame Demons, Save Lives!

[cafedanslanuit]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist

↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]

↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.

↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3

Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.

No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.

His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.

“Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.

“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.

“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.

“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?”

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 

She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

---

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.

“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.

When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.

“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

[dreabbles]

twinkletoes

giyushino modern au where giyuu is a ballerino, and shinobu finds him interesting

shinobu is very much attracted to this ballerino named tomioka giyuu—she just doesn’t know to what extent

shinobu thinks her attraction is entirely science and anatomy-based: she likes the way giyuu’s muscles are shaped, she likes how they flow so smoothly with the music (”like the peaceful flow of water!” mitsuri once compared), she likes the way his veins protrude from his arm—and list goes on.

she does admit, however, that she finds his face aesthetically pleasing as well. she claims that it’s hard to ignore, really. not everyone has such deep blue eyes that draw her in.

because she’s friends with mitsuri, a costume designer for the ballet company giyuu is in, shinobu gets mitsuri’s extra free tickets to every show. of course, out of gratitude for her friend, shinobu attends each one.

being the best friend that she is, mitsuri tries to indulge shinobu with more than just the front-seat of the auditorium and attempts to give shinobu backstage access to meet the ballerino, but shinobu often declines, lest she come off as creepy and stalker-ish. shinobu claims she’s fine with watching from the audience.

shinobu does, however, sometimes linger a bit longer after the curtain call when the actors are out to meet some audience members, but stays away and decides against introducing herself (she’s seen him decline all conversations, save from the woman who looks to be a family member, and this orange-haired friend with a scar on his face).

mitsuri does her best (she also can’t believe her friend is that dense)

aside from tickets, and the possibility of a backstage visit, mitsuri deliberately dresses shinobu in eye-catching outfits during each show shinobu attends. it serves its purpose for the most part, just not for the person it’s intended for.

mitsuri has offered to directly introduce the two. the conversation happened like this:

“hang out at the lobby for a few minutes after the show. i’m sure i can find time to introduce you.”

“don’t bother; i’m not that desperate. i’m fine with admiring his muscles from afar. though it would be nice to have a closer examination. do you think he’d let me examine him?”

“maybe? you’ll only know if you ask.”

“do you think he’d be willing to donate some blood at our clinic? i want to see how easy those veins are to poke.”

“...you’re absolutely sure you don’t want me to introduce you?”

“yes. i’ve watched him a few times after his shows. he gets flocked by so many women and absolutely hates it. his expression is a lot harder and less happy compared to when he’s mingling with his friends.”

“you’re honestly already at the point where you notice the changes in his expression. are you sure you aren’t crushing on him?

“of course i’m sure.”

“okay then.”

but, of course, mitsuri has other ways of getting them to meet—if not at his workplace, then maybe at hers.

mitsuri takes a leap and invites the company to a blood donation drive, all of whom agree. (the invitation is mostly for giyuu, but he doesn’t have to know that...not that she expects him to turn up. he never shows up for what the young ones call “company bonding affairs”.)

surprisingly, giyuu shows up. he brings along his relative (mitsuri confirms her to be the sister) and his orange-haired friend.

of course, it has to be shinobu to draw his blood (this, mitsuri claims, is completely coincidental)

shinobu actually expected for giyuu to be quiet, but not this quiet. he responds only when he’s spoken to and speak just enough words—not too little, and never too much. it irks her slightly that he’s so disinterested in the whole donation process, but she decides to keep talking to him regardless.

just as she also expected, the needle enters his veins easily and the blood flows as smooth as his dancing. she tells him she’d be back when the bag is full and leaves to attend to other patients.

she doesn’t realize that his eyes have locked onto her, following her but never letting his gaze stray lower than her hips (he already did once earlier during the brief orientation and is very aware of how those jeans fit her legs and her bottom).

giyuu is slightly upset that it isn’t her who attends to him when the bag is full. only slightly. 

so he chooses to linger. no, he didn’t choose to do so. he just so happened to linger, even telling his sister and friend to go on home without him. (they give him a secret smile each, as though they’d expected him to do something like this.)

mitsuri notices all of this happening, of course

by the end of the shift, shinobu is quite sweaty from walking around to attend to patients and from bringing supplies to and from the cargo vehicles. luckily, mitsuri always has an extra change of clothes in her car for emergencies like this.

the dress misturi lends is slightly too short and slightly too low for shinobu’s liking that shinobu is torn between either pulling the hem down or pulling the neckline up. either action help in nothing to help hide the skin she isn’t used to showing.

just when shinobu decides she’d rather just wear her sweat-soaked polo shirt and jeans, someone extends a jacket towards her. “wrap this around your waist,” says the low voice. shinobu blinks. 

apparently giyuu can speak more than just three words at a time. she’s pleasantly surprised.

then he speaks again, “do you want to get something to eat with me?”

everyone else would later tell them that this was their first date, though they both claim it isn’t

they end up eating dinner somewhere somewhat fancy because it’s the closest to where they’re standing, and shinobu has no more energy to walk too far. (giyuu did offer to carry her, though she declined his invitation.)

though it’s mostly shinobu who does the talking, giyuu does give more reactions to her than she’s ever seen in the whole year she’s watched him.

she catches him off-guard when she compliments his dimples. “they’re really cute,” she says, poking into one of them, and he blushes at her actions.

he catches her off-guard, too, when he tells her, “thank you for always coming to my shows.” that he knew she was in the audience is the last thing she expects.

shinobu nearly drops her utensils when he starts leading the conversation.

everybody say, “thank you, mitsuri”

“you’ve seen me?” shinobu asks, to which giyuu nonchalantly replies, “you’re hard to miss. not everyone’s as pretty as you.”

her heart flutters ever so slightly and shinobu admits that she might have actually developed a tiny, tiny crush on this man. 

shinobu learns that his orange-haired friend’s name is sabito, when giyuu tells her that, “sabito mentioned i should talk to you but i never got the chance. you were always gone when everyone else cleared away. i wasn’t sure where else to look.”

to add to that: “if i knew you and kanroji were good friends, i’d probably have accepted more of her invitations earlier. the other dancers said you’d often be invited, too. i could’ve gotten to know you earlier.”

and to top it all off, he fixes her sleeve that has started to fall off her shoulder. shinobu feels her skin burn under his touch.

when shinobu goes to sleep that evening, it is no longer just giyuu’s muscles on her mind, but also the smile he sent her when they parted

the “date” goes on with casual flirting from both his side and hers. he brushes the bangs from her eyes as she eats, while she wipes the corner of his mouth when he does.

it’s too early for the night to end, so they opt for ice cream. they share a waffle cup with a single spoon.

shinobu has heard enough good stuff about giyuu. topped with her own observations, she concludes that he’s a trustworthy person, so she allows him to drive her home. (mitsuri stowed away much earlier and left shinobu with a midnight commute as the only other option to get home.)

before she alights from the car, giyuu clears his throat and, like a gentleman, asks something shinobu would normally not agree with upon her first meeting with a stranger: “can i kiss you goodnight?”

giyuu meant for it to be a peck on the cheek, but when she leans in with her lips presented for him, he has no other choice but to take them.

they start dating, of course, to fill in the blanks. after all, with how long they’ve been admiring each other from afar, they feel like they’ve already know each other for a while.

three months later, they become official, and shinobu is given explicit permission to examine the muscles she once admired only from the stage.

[myhaikyuuthings]

I want us

requests: Can you write a part 2 for ‘Better Man’? Like the reader ends up with Bokuto or something and ends up getting married to him while Kuroo is just kinda there, hurting. Or you can have reader and Kuroo get back together if you’d prefer, just anything ending with fluff 😔

part 2 please? 

Continuation of: better man

pairing: bokuto x reader, mentions of past kuroo x reader

fluff, angst, happy ending 

warning: mentions of past cheating, 

word count: 3770

it was longer than i intended so it continues under the cut!

 It’s cold outside, the first snow starting to fall. You sit by the window, watching with a heavy heart. It’s the first snow since your divorce, you can’t help but reminisce. 

You met Kuroo when you were just eight years old, the two of you becoming best friends. On your thirteenth birthday he told you he liked you, and that had started your first and only relationship. It was tradition for the two of you to experience the first snow together, always with soft smiles and promises to love each other for the rest of your life. 

It’s a weird feeling, to be here alone now. You sip your tea, closing your eyes as you savor the warmth it gives you. You want nothing more than to step out into the snow, put the last twelve years behind you, but it’s not so easy. Doing it without him feels wrong.  A knock against your door pulls a sigh from your lips. You peak through the window, seeing your old friend waiting. 

“Hi Bokuto-san,” you greet as you open the door, smiling as best as you can manage. 

“Aw have I been gone so long I don’t get my nickname anymore,” he pouts, opening his arms for a hug. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hi y/n-chan.”

“Hey Kou, how have you been? I’ve been keeping up with your games on the TV, you’re as good as ever,” you compliment, moving to let him into the house. 

“I’ve been good! I’ve missed everybody, it’s just stayed really busy and when I am free it’s always so late at night I feel bad if I text,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I can understand that, if it’s any consolation I missed you too.”

You had met Bokuto during your first year. You were the manager in training for Nekoma where Kuroo played volleyball. The two of you had gone to the training camp and your boyfriend at the time met him after dinner one night. The two had instantly clicked, so of course you were introduced to the boy too. It sparked a great friendship and you loved your friend dearly. 

By the time the two of you met, you had been dating Kuroo for about two years. Bokuto had expressed how jealous he was that Kuroo not only had a girlfriend, but that his girlfriend was also part of his team. He was always there for both of you through high schools, a lot of your best memories were littered with his face right alongside the man you loved. 

“Where’s Kuroo anyways? Well the other Kuroo,” he asks, accepting the mug you hold out with a grin. “I wanted to surprise you guys, maybe go out for the first snow like we used to as teenagers.”

“Kou, when’s the last time you talked to Tetsurou?” you ask, your voice wavering. He tilts his head, seeming to think for a while.

“God a little over a year ago, man I’m a bad friend,” he sighs, shaking  his head. “Why is he okay?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. We got a divorce a few months ago, I haven’t heard anything from him since,” his eyes widen, concern quickly taking over the shocked expression. He grabs your hand across the table, rubbing his thumb soothingly against the back. 

“What happened? You two were the perfect couple,” you laugh a little, causing his concern to grow. 

“He cheated on me Kou, for months,” you finally tell him, your throat restricting around the words. Even now, your body rejected the memory so harshly you felt like you would throw up. 

You sit silently, his grip tightening on your hand as his face goes hard. You move to speak, shutting your mouth at the tears filling his eyes. He closes his eyes, a single tear rolling before he gets his emotions under control. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, looking deeply into your eyes. “You deserve better than that, and I can’t believe he would do something like that to you.”

“I couldn’t either, sometimes I forget and I’ll wake up to an empty house and it just,” you laugh, trying to mask the pain in your voice but you know he sees through it. He was always good at reading you, “it hits  me then, that it wasn’t just some bad dream. I’ll be okay.”

“You will, you’ll be okay,” he assures you, “he’s a piece of shit.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “He’s your best friend..” You know Bokuto has always cared about you as well as Kuroo, but at the end of the day they were the best friends. Inseparable once together, so his words threw you off.

“You loved him so much, I knew it from the first time I met you two,” he explains, his hand never once letting go of yours. “I’ve never seen anyone as in love as you were, and he threw that away. He broke you, I can see it in your eyes when I talk about him, so yeah he was my best friend but so are you, and he fucked up. You may not be asking me to take sides but I am, and I’m taking your side.” 

So the two of you sit, catching up on everything you’ve missed. His team won the last tournament, so they’ll be going to the olympics next year. Because of this, he’ll be in town for a while, the team training with other teams that will fly in to meet them. You offer to let him stay in the extra bedroom that used to be Kuroo’s home office when he says he still needs to find a apartment before his teammate Sakusa actually kills him for his ‘germs’. It takes a lot of reassurance that it’s  okay, and admitting that you had trouble sleeping without someone else in the house. 

“Just, I know I’m only twenty five,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “But even before we moved in together after highschool, our parents always let us stay at each others houses because they trusted us. I haven’t been without him for many years so it’s just hard to sleep in an empty house.”

“If you swear it’s okay, then I’ll move in, but I get to cover the rent,” he agrees, a smug look on his face as he finds a suitable solution.

“I own the apartment, it’s paid off,” you admit, watching his cheeks tint pink with a small smile. “You can cover half the other bills? We do a proper roommate situation.”

-

It was easy living with him. Sure he was a little messy, but he always made sure to clean up if you asked. After the first two times, he quickly figured out how much was an ‘acceptable’ amount of mess, and rarely went past that. The two of you had movie marathons every weekend, cuddling up on the couch with an array of movies playing. 

He was there anytime you woke up from a dream about Kuroo, your sobs carrying to his room as you realized the reality. You were there when he had a bad day at practice, comforting him and reminding him how good a player he is. He let you rant and rave anytime your heart reminded you of your past, the ache turning to anger, your eyes too dry for any tears to fall. You always calmed down, muttering apologies and thanks as he held you in his arms. Today was no different when you came home from the market, having ran into your ex husband. 

“I’m never going to love someone again,” you mumble against his chest one night. Your voice was so broken, you would have missed the tears that caught in his eyes at the sound if you didn’t have your head so close to his heart. “It’s okay Kou, it’s just better for me.”

“You’ll love someone again,” he whispers against the crown of your head, tightening his hold on you. “You deserve to be loved the way you loved him, and you’ll find that. And if any guy fucks you over again, I’ll break his face okay?” 

“Does that count for Kuroo?” you ask, only half joking. The shake of his chest as he laughs pulls a small smile to your lips. 

“It does, if he ever tries to talk to you again I’ll fight him for you okay?” Your heart swelled, a warmth feeling filling your chest. You leaned back, cupping his cheek softly. 

“I was kidding, but thank you,” you don’t miss the slight blush on his face, but you ignore it, not wanting to figure out what it means now. “My knight in shining volleyball uniform.” 

He snorts at your analogy, pulling you back into your hug. You rest your hands on his hips, giggling with him. 

“You’re something else y/n,” you can feel the smile against your head, pressing your face closer to his chest. 

“Yeah but you care about me anyways,” he gasps, your giggles echoing at his dramatics. 

“I care about you because you’re something else! One of a kind! Only girl like you in the world,” he raves, talking with his hands as you lean back to look at him. “I don’t care about you despite you being different, I care about you because you’re different. Billions of women in the world, not a single one even comes close to being like you.” 

In retrospect, you should have realized that night where this was going. But you chose to stay oblivious, subconsciously you knew you weren’t ready to move on.

-

You follow him to Brazil for the olympics, wearing his training jersey he had given you. A lot has changed in the last year, you feel lighter. You take your spot in the ‘family and friends’ section set aside for every team. His eyes caught yours as the coach talks to them, he smiles at you which you return easily. 

The game flows beautifully. It’s obvious the other team is good, the black jackals barely keeping the lead. Your cheers are loud and proud as he spikes the ball to the other side of the court, winning the game for his team. Your breath catches when his eyes immediately search for yours, his face bright. 

It’s not hard to love Koutarou. You loved him before you even realize, but once you do, it makes sense. Your mind drifts to your second year when Kuroo had been ignoring you after your first bad fight, and how Bokuto had comforted you, talked you out of  leaving him. You couldn’t deny that you had harbored a small crush for him all those years ago. Little did you know, he had as well. 

“Y/N!” His voice calls as he runs up into the stands. His arms wrap around your waist before you can react and he has you in the air. “You’re a good luck charm, I thought we were going to lose.”

“That was all you guys,” you laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders as he beams up at you. “All I did was cheer for you.”

“Your cheers are filled with luck, we only have one more team to beat and we’ll have gold!” 

“I’m proud of you,” you say, your voice soft and filled with admiration.

 The two of you are so caught up in each other that you don’t notice the camera crew a few feet away. They were waiting to interview him, but started recording when his body met yours. In the few years he had been in the spotlight, he had never been seen with someone in a romantic way. Even if that’s not how you two intended it, that’s how the whole world saw it as they broadcasted live. 

Bokuto notices the crew, setting you down and giving your shoulder a squeeze before walking over to them, his hand resting in yours. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting, I had to thank my lucky charm!”

“Your lucky charm? What’s your name miss?” the interviewer smiles sweetly at you, greeting you properly instead of ignoring your existence like you expected. 

“Oh I’m Y/N Y/L/N, but i’m not his lucky charm,” you stammer, blushing slightly which makes Kou coo at you. 

“Don’t listen to her, we’ve been friends since my first year of high school, anytime she was at a game of mine I won,” he tells her, smiling down at you, “whatever she believes, her cheering is a lucky charm for me and whatever team I’m playing with.”

“Wow you’ve known each other that long? That’s amazing, how long have you two been together, why are we only meeting her now?” 

“Oh wow, no we’re not together, she’s my best friend,” he explains, blushing brightly. 

“I’m sorry for assuming!” She apologizes, bowing deeply. You both assure her it’s okay before she continues with her interview, this time making sure her questions are only on the game. 

-

He won gold, bringing it back to Japan with his head held high and his hand in yours. Things had gotten weird after that interview, he was less affectionate with you than ever before. He didn’t want to  make you uncomfortable or let you realize his feelings for you. You had grabbed his hand when you got off the plane, your pout pulling a sigh from his lips when he tried to remove it. 

Back at your home, you sit him down with a pout on your lips and worry in your eyes. “Did I do something? You’ve always been affectionate ever since I met you but lately you seem to recoil from my touch. It’s okay I just don’t know why..”

“Oh Y/N no love,” your heart soars at the slip of the petname, his voice soft, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable after that interview. I’m sure you weren’t happy with her assuming we were dating, or the amount of people online who had the same idea.” 

“And if I told you I didn’t mind?” you ask, looking away from him in embarrassment, “what if I told you I didn’t hate it, actually the opposite.” 

He slides closer to you, his knees pressing against yours as you two sit on your bed. He takes your chin in between his fingers lightly, turning your face so your eyes meet his. You freeze, the hope in his eyes so obvious you wonder how you didn’t figure it out sooner. He liked you too. 

“Do you mean that?” his voice was soft and husky, sending shivers down your spine. You nod, unable to find your voice. “I’ve loved you for a long time.

Long before you had your heart broken, before you married him, I’ve loved you since our second year.” He admits, you smile softly, his hand moving to rest against your cheek. 

“I know Kou, I didn’t at the time but I can see it now,” you say, leaning into his touch, “the way you spoke to me back then, how you were always there, the soft touches. I was too blind back then.”

“You were with Kuroo, it didn’t matter how I felt, a part of me was glad you never figured it out, I didn’t want to come between you two ever. No matter how much I loved you.” 

A loud knock came from the front door, breaking the intimate moment between you. Bokuto sends you a small smile, going to see who it was. He doesn’t bother looking through the peep hole, instead just opening the door. You wait in the bedroom, jumping when you hear a loud bang. You rush into the living room, seeing him standing in front of the closed door, his body tense.

“Kou?” you approach him, placing your hand on his shoulder gently. “What was that?”

He takes a deep breath as the knocking on the door starts up again. Turning to you, he gives you a tight smile and asks you to go back to the bedroom. When he realizes you aren’t going anywhere, he flings the door open as the knocking turns into a banging. 

“What the fuck Bokuto?” You freeze, you haven’t heard his voice in nearly two years. Your grip on Bokuto tightens, his hand coming up to push you behind him.

“I should be asking you that Kuroo,” his voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it, the anger radiating off of him nearly scaring you. “Why are you here?”

“I saw the broadcast from the Olympics, I had to know if Y/N was with you now, I guess this answers my question,” he scoffs, gesturing to you hiding behind Bokato, wearing one of his t shirts that covered your shorts. 

“You have no right to know who she is or isn’t with, did you forget what you did?” Bokuto steps forward, your hand falling from it’s place around his bicep. “Did you forget Kuroo? Do I need to remind you?”

“I know what I did, but you were my friend too,” you wince at the pain in his voice, you feel a bit guilty for liking Bokuto when he says it like that. 

“Yeah I was, and you were her husband, I guess we both let down people who we never should have,” he moves to shut the door, Kuroo���s hand stopping it. No sooner than you can process it, Bokuto’s fist collides with your ex husband, blood gushing from his nose almost immediately. 

“Kou!” You gasp, grabbing onto him before he can hit him again. 

“I told you, if he showed his face in front of you again I was going to hit him,” he whispers, trying to calm himself. Kuroo curses, cupping his nose. You feel bad, bringing him a wash cloth and ice pack.

“Here, for the nose,” you whisper, holding it out to him. Bokuto scoffs beside you, his hand resting on your waist. “I’m sorry he hit you, but you kind of deserved it.”

“Kind of?” “Kou enough, please.” 

Kuroo accepts the items with a small thanks. Wiping the blood that ran down his face, he turns to the two of you. “Are you two together? Can you just tell me that Y/N?” 

“You should go,” is the only answer you give him. Once you’re sure he’s gone you turn to Bokuto, “you really hit him.”

“I’ll do it again if I have to,” he says, not looking  even the least bit regretful of his actions. 

“Can I kiss you Koutarou?” 

His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, hands holding onto your hips tightly. You moan into the kiss, your hands gripping his upper arms. The feeling of his lips against yours felt better than you could have ever imagined, the soft groans leaving his lips telling you he felt the same. You pressed your  body closer to his, your chest flush with his. He pulls you even closer, taking a few steps backwards until he sits on the couch, you falling onto his lap. 

“I love you, and I know you don’t feel that way about me yet, that’s okay,” he pants, looking up at you. “But I need to know if you really want this, us before we do anything else.”

“I want us, I want you,” you reply, your hands playing with the hair at the base of his neck. His hairs down, and you decide this is your favorite look on him. 

“Yeah?” he can’t keep the smile from his face as you nod, his heart feeling satisfied for the first time in years. “I’m really glad I never moved on from you.” 

His lips find yours once more, and you melt into him.

-

You never thought you would be standing here again. It’s been nearly four years since you started dating Bokuto, and he asked you to marry him two months ago. You didn’t want a big wedding this time around, and he agreed, just wanting to marry you, regardless of how many people were there. 

You stand, the sand between your toes, your dress brushing against your knees as the wind blows. He wanted a beach wedding, and you didn’t have the heart to say no. He stands at the ‘altar’, his outfit casual but beautiful to you. His smile is wide, eyes full of love as you approach him.

“I love you, you look perfect,” he praises you, his hands taking yours. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m ready love,” you smile, cooing at the teary eyed smile he gives you. 

The wedding was small, intimate, but just as lovely as your first. If not better. Only your immediate family and closest friends were present, all of them happy for the two of you. It was a small reception, hardly anything, more of a beach party than a wedding reception. 

You found yourself tangled in his arms as you sway to the music, your heart light, at peace. 

“Thank you for trying to surprise me that day,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t shown up then.”

“You’d be right here,” he shrugs, a sure smile on his face, “one way or another, I would have found out and been at your doorstep ready to help you. You falling in love with me is just the cherry on the cake for me, I was happy as long as you were, it didn’t matter who you were with. As long as you had that smile on your face, I would step aside every time for someone else to love you.”

“The only person I will ever love as much as you, is our baby,” you laugh as his eyes widen, he stops swaying, his grip on  you tightening slightly.

“I don’t know if you’re saying you want kids or if you’re saying you’re already pregnant,” his voice is quiet, not giving anything away. 

“I found out two days ago.” The scream of joy that fell from his lips had everyone jumping, never quite used to his outbursts. You giggle, his hands holding you up in the air with the happiest look on his face. He puts you down, pulling you into a deep kiss. 

“Best day of my life,” he says, kissing you between each word. 

Maybe you got it wrong the first time you got married. But you knew, standing before him now, that you got it right this time. 

[rekrappeter]

w a r d c a m e r o n x fem!reader

notes: why? you ask, because this man is hot and im the h word so. im also not putting a lot of effort into this cause i know about three people will read it.

warnings: baby this is full of sugar, literally, let me introduce you to sugar daddy!ward cameron. severe age gap, however, reader is 21+. lower case intended my lovies

summary: meeting ward cameron for the first time

if you’re like me, and dig this idea, please feel free to send in concepts, thanks lovies

the first member of the cameron family that you met was rafe, the eldest and only son. you had met him through mutual friends at college and you had this weird connection with each other. it wasn’t romantic in the slightest, he had tried his luck but you explained thoroughly that he wasn’t your type; he was too young. but you bounced off one another like joey and phoebe from the hit television show, friends. it’s why you became the closest of friends within a short span of time, two months passed and he had invited you to spend the winter in the outer banks with him. 

he told you a lot about the outer banks, how he couldn’t wait to get away from it but he also explained the horrendous reputation he had amongst the population there. you only rolled your eyes to his story, patting him on the back, ‘you’re a dickhead, rafe, i get it.�� 

it’s how you ended up on the docks, walking next to rafe cameron with a large white suitcase following behind you. rafe told you that you didn’t need much clothes, despite the winter weather only being mild, you could still get away with light clothing. but you didn’t want to chance it, you wanted to bring an outfit for every possible opportunity. 

‘who’s picking us up?’ you questioned, looking up at your taller friend. you weren’t surprised that rafe had a reputation around these parts, he reeked of confidence and cockiness, the smirk that covered his face as soon as he stepped foot off the ferry told more stories than he did. 

‘either rose or ward, i didn’t question it.’ he shrugged, keeping his eyes peeled for a white range rover. his face fell at the sight of an older man leaning against the vehicle he spotted across the parking lot. ‘there’s daddy,’ he sighed, taking the suitcase from your grasp and rolling it behind him as he made his way over to him. 

you halted in your step, gawking at the man about one hundred yards away from you. ‘there’s daddy indeed,’ you said, causing rafe to scoff and roll his eyes in distaste. 

‘don’t start that, you,’ he warned, watching you wipe the drool from your chin. ‘you’re sick.’

‘he’s divorced, right?’ 

‘y/n, that’s my father,’ he snapped over his shoulder, but you couldn’t continue the conversation as the gap between you and the man was closing. you plastered a sweet smile on your face, feeling your heart pounding as his eyes passed his son and connected with yours. 

‘son, nice to see you,’ his voice was deep and husky, sending tingles through your legs. ‘and this must be y/n?’ 

‘hi, mr. cameron, thank you for letting me spend the holidays with your family,’ you said, you took a step closer to him, reaching your hand out to shake his. rafe watched your intentions closely, scoffing when he spotted you pulling your top down discreetly. 

‘please, y/n, it’s ward. it’s a pleasure to have you,’ ward replied, shaking your hand and keeping his eyes on your face. you couldn’t help but let your eyes scan his face, taking in the manly stature of his jaw covered with a grown out beard. you resisted the urge to groan at the intrusive thoughts entering your mind, wondering what it would feel like to have his face between your legs. 

you didn’t realise you were still holding his hand until rafe cleared his throat from beside you, making you snap out of your daydream. you grinned in their direction, taking your hand from ward’s grasp and wondering did he just get caught checking you out as well. 

‘i cant believe you,’ rafe announced, knocking on the guest room door that you were sleeping in for the next few weeks. 

‘what?’ you asked innocently, neatly folding your clothes in the drawers provided. you had just met the whole cameron family, playing sweet and thanking them for letting you join them this year. they all seemed pleased to have you, but you couldn’t help the lingering gazes you gave ward, there was just something about him that drove you insane. 

‘my father? really?’ 

you rolled your eyes, turning to face him, ‘he’s hot, rafe, what do you want me to say?’

rafe couldn’t control the string of giggles from his lips, his chest bouncing with the sounds. he ran his hands over his face, a groan mixing with the giggles. ‘just don’t do anything stupid, he-he’s not into that.’ 

‘how do you know?’ you smirked, fixing your hair. rafe’s eyes travelled down your body, and he started to doubt himself, anyone would be lucky to spend a night with you. 

‘y/n, i-’

‘rafe, i’m kidding,’ you pouted, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tippy toes. ‘i’ll be a good girl.’ rafe’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, hearing you whine like that got him all hot and bothered. there was no doubt the sound would make his father react the same. 

 ‘if you do feel the urge to fuck anyone on this trip, let me show you my room,’ rafe smirked, twisting your body around and leading you to his room down the hall. he ignored your protests, causing you to giggle as he manhandled you into his room. 

‘in your dreams, cameron.’ you retorted, pushing out of his arms and rushing out of his room but what you didn’t expect was ward cameron to be standing there and you crashed against his hard chest, bouncing back onto the tiled floor. you groaned at the pain in your backside, looking up from the floor to see him staring down at you. 

‘someone’s hyper,’ ward chuckled, jutting out his hand to help you off the floor. 

you accepted his hand, letting him pull you up with ease, ‘sorry, sir, your son brings that side out in me.’ 

ward swallowed at what you called him, his pupils dilating. ‘it’s ward, y/n, not mr. cameron, not sir.’ 

not daddy you wanted to say but you resisted the urge, knowing anyone could be wandering the halls of the mansion. you let your tongue wet your bottom lip, sucking it in softly, ‘sorry, ward, i was just brought up respecting my elders.’

ward chuckled, rubbing his beard, ‘i don’t look that old, do i?’ 

‘not at all, you look very good considering you’ve a twenty one year old son.’ 

ward’s cheeks blushed at your compliment and you considered that a victory as you peeked into rafe’s room, watching him throw the middle finger up at you. you excused yourself, walking around ward and from the deafening silence lingering the hall, you knew he was watching you walk away. the cheeky grin plastered across your face, your confidence booming as you swayed your hips seductively. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sure why not this is only the beginning my fellow thirsty hoes

[seyaryminamoto]

Masterpost: answering a single anon in a single post

So. I wasn’t going to answer asks today but frankly, considering what I should be writing I’d rather answer asks, might actually get a laugh out of it. Most of all, because of what I intend to answer here.

To spare y’all from the pain and annoyance of having to read through any of my answers to we-know-who, I’m going to do it differently this time. All in one post. Because frankly, filling my blog with their TWENTY asks, no less (and it’s official this time, used to be sixteen but then I reblogged that post about conflict in stories and they went wild, as usual) isn’t worth anyone’s time. Hell, it’s not even worth mine, but procrastination is overpowering.

Here we go. If you’re not the anon in question and still want to read this, I hope you have fun.

This is a free world. That means multiple things some people can’t seem to accept. One such thing is that people have no obligation to even interact with each other, let alone to do what others demand of them, especially when they don’t want to. The fact is, being harassed (because, yes, there’s no other word for it) by someone has been a pretty irritating and stressful thing for me, to the point where it has impacted my ability to write...

And the harasser doesn’t give a single fuck about it and just keeps going :’)

With such introduction, I decide to engage my least favorite person in this site once again because clearly, ignoring them, blocking them, closing asks, deleting and rewriting reviews, is still not enough to get across the message that reiterating an opinion a million times doesn’t automatically make it more valid. So let’s see just what’s going on with this very much desperate person who apparently can’t stop seeking my attention:

First of all, I asked this person, point-blank, to address their asks, if they would continue sending them, to my main blog. Let’s see how that request turned out:

Oh my, astonishing! They sent it to Gladiator’s blog instead! And what a bigger shock: they’re, as usual, trying to control and direct what I write and how I write it. While sprinkling empty compliments that don’t mean a thing, such as claiming RESPECT for me and my work when every single ask they’ve sent is an outright disrespectful act against me, considering how many times I’ve requested, directly, that they stop this, and how many times they’ve ignored me. It even is extra poignant considering my request for them to send asks to my main blog instead, and yet they deliberately sent it to Gladiator’s blog. This is what RESPECT looks like, in this anon’s head. Fascinating stuff, isn’t it?

And then comes the mad onslaught that left me facedesking for days:

... I mean. Can someone please read this and tell me the person on the other side, with their vague condition, whatever it may be, has any idea what an apology even MEANS? 

For someone who’s so obsessed with alleged consistency, you’re damn bad at it yourself, Anon. You can’t send four asks in a row, to the WRONG BLOG, demanding for explanations you don’t even care to read, because every single time I’ve taken your whining seriously you’ve disregarded all my responses and gone right back to the same BS as before, and THEN pretend you’re here TO APOLOGIZE.

You don’t feel any remorse. To this day, you don’t even KNOW what you did wrong. This is NOT expressing yourself: THIS IS HARASSMENT. Need me to define the word for you to understand what it means, seeing as it’s becoming abundantly clear your reading and interpretation skills are not the greatest?

Definitions of harassment:

1. (n) the act of tormenting by continued persistent attacks and criticism 2. (n)  a feeling of intense annoyance caused by being tormented

I’ve said it before: PEOPLE HAVE HAD COMPLAINTS ABOUT THIS STORY, FAR MORE VALID THAN YOURS, AND I’VE NEVER REACTED THIS WAY. Care to guess why?

Because you NEVER stop. Because you keep going, constantly, never slowing down to think YOUR behavior is affecting a REAL LIFE HUMAN BEING. You’re obsessing over what happens in a fictional story that, by the way, is a fanfic, ergo, it obeys certain rules that general fiction does not. Among such rules is abiding by ORIGINAL characterization to a certain extent, and that means, hahaha, that Azula ISN’T an experienced character in any social or romantic situations because she ISN’T in canon, and there was no reason to change that, especially considering the worldbuilding I crafted, which makes it CRUCIAL for Azula to be careful with her virtue, despite she doesn’t want to be and realizes the whole notion of female virginal purity is absolute BULLSHIT.

But why am I explaining anything anyway? You won’t understand it, because you don’t want to. You claim, constantly, that you’re asking things OUT OF CURIOSITY, as if that makes ANYTHING better, when the truth is you’re just here to impose your cursed opinions on everyone else, especially me, and pretend you somehow own this fic and ship and your demands mean more than anyone else’s. Meanwhile, oh, I understand you PERFECTLY: you don’t want Sokka to ever have any experiences with any other women because you only believe in pure, untainted love of virgins who wait for each other and don’t ever make mistakes or are forced into unwanted situations. Because, again, you can’t understand that those sorts of things CAN happen. Because you don’t see there’s nuance to human beings, nuance I attempt to capture through my characters too.

I said it semi-jokingly, back in my past answers, now I say it directly: IF YOU CAN’T STOMACH THESE SITUATIONS AND CAN’T ACCEPT THEM, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU.

An M-rated story doesn’t owe you any apologies for being what it is. An M-rated story, at the end of the day, is a STORY. You are a human being who should be capable of controlling not only your impulses but your reactions to things, at least to some degree, and yet you refuse to. You, in fact, continue to prove you CAN’T control yourself in the least because hey, just now, halfway through writing this post? I got THREE MORE ASKS by you. No less than three. And you finished them off, again, with a pretense that you’re going to stop pestering me...

... But hey. You said that at the end of the last ask I pasted up there. Hmm. And yet...

You came back, over and over and over again? :’)

RIGHT ON ALL ACCOUNTS! So... how do TWENTY ASKS, after claims that you’d finally stop, count as “regret”? You’re not changing at all, anon, because YOU DON’T WANT TO. You don’t, to this day, see what you did wrong. You don’t get it. And you won’t get it. So how about we just keep going with the next four?

Oh! But hey, you actually switched blogs this time. Super sweet of you to finally listen to ONE thing I said. Very nice.

I’ll just point out: I received the last NINE asks I’ve pasted here in a SINGLE DAY.

Nine. In one day.

I only ever got that many asks in a single go during review parties (admittedly, there were more than that, but still). The fact that you felt the need to send me NINE ASKS, to beg for forgiveness with a completely dishonest apology, is all the proof of harassment anyone could possibly ask for, right? If you weren’t an anon and at least had the GUTS to own up to your opinions, which you seem to consider absolutely sacred and completely correct, you’d have never gotten away with this. Ergo why you don’t have those guts, and why you keep sending anon reviews and asks too.

The fact that you’re so obsessed with this problem, to the point of believing Sokka’s best sex was with JUNE? We’ve literally finished an entire arc of Sokka and Azula banging across the Fire Nation with no restraint, with the two of them repeatedly remarking this is the best time they’ve ever had, and you’re so completely obsessed with this problem that you apparently think Sokka angrily fucking someone WHILE DECEIVING HIMSELF INTO THINKING IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE is... better? Are you FOR REAL? Are you seriously THAT BAD at reading?

Please, click here. I can’t even stand it anymore. It’s not even for my own sake but yours. You need it.

Also... you’re projecting so bad. Like, so bad. June’s teasing in that chapter is 100% intended to piss them off. The fact that she starts asking for Azula to lend her her “second boyfriend”, AKA Rui Shi, should tell you just how much stock June puts in what happened between her and Sokka: SHE DOESN’T GIVE A DAMN. She’s honestly more entertained by pissing off Azula as a consequence of it than over the sex she had with Sokka, especially considering she even lost her temper with him after he started apologizing in 28. You’re so completely beside yourself you can’t see ANYTHING clearly?

If you REALLY need it spelled out, no, Sokka wasn’t June’s best sex. June has probably done anyone and everyone she ever wanted to, and chances are she absolutely found someone, or several someones, who actually wanted HER, for HER, just as much as she may have wanted them. And that, you insecure mess of a human being, would absolutely make for a much better lay than what she got with Sokka. Why don’t I outright state this in the story, you’ll ask? Because despite what you may believe, this story ISN’T a love triangle between Azula, Sokka and June! Oh my, the horror! We’ve literally spent 198 chapters building up the story and developing Azula and Sokka’s relationship but the ONE TIME encounter with June apparently makes her that pivotal for your whole existence?

Dude, I literally don’t look at 28 AT ALL these days, because I don’t care to. Because even when I wrote it, it hurt me so bad having written it that I was crazy about getting to everything else so I could put it behind me. Whenever I reference it, I do the same way I reference ANYTHING ELSE. The only person who seems to think I’m doing it to further torture anyone IS YOU. 

And yes, did I just say it hurt me too? Oh, my, what a SHOCKER! The fact is, that scene is only as intense as it is because I literally couldn’t bring myself to write it. It wasn’t until it came to mind that Sokka COULD imagine Azula in June’s place that I finally found the way to do it: it wasn’t just Sokka imagining Azula instead, it was ME. Because if it had been anything else? I wouldn’t have been able to write it at all. I basically wrote it as hatesex Sokkla because I NEEDED to in order to write it. “THEN WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE IT?!?!?”, you’ll scream, I’m sure: BECAUSE I TREAT MY CHARACTERS AS HUMAN BEINGS WHO MAKE MISTAKES AND DO THINGS THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE. BECAUSE SOKKA WAS IN A DARK PLACE AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT AZULA WAS FEELING OR THINKING. BECAUSE AZULA WAS IMPULSIVE AND CONTROLLING AND COULDN’T REALIZE THAT THE MORE SHE TRIED TO FORCE SOKKA TO BEND TO HER WILL, THE MORE HE WOULD TRY TO BREAK FREE.

But all this is clearly too complex for you. Can’t even fathom understanding anything remotely close to characterization and conflict within relationships, no. You’re something else entirely.

And so, we move on to the post-apology Anon: you DO realize that forgiveness is something earned? I mean, it’s kinda funny because Sokka actually earned his own. He spent ages working for it, and even AFTER Azula told him he was forgiven, he still feels so bad about having hurt her that, to this day, he regrets it. Being FORGIVEN was not a condition for him to feel remorse. He regretted his actions because HE KNEW THEY WERE WRONG. Because he’s an actual, decent human being who, when faced with a catastrophic mistake, actually wants to amend it and wishes he had acted differently despite he can’t take anything back anymore.

But you? You can’t even begin to understand what regret means. I guess another dictionary definition would help?

Definitions of regret

1. (v) feel remorse for; feel sorry for; be contrite about

2. (v)  feel sad about the loss or absence of

3. (v)  express with regret

4. (v)  decline formally or politely

5. (n)  sadness associated with some wrong done or some disappointment

So, your attempts to beg for forgiveness fall completely flat. And I say it in plural, ATTEMPTS, because in case you think I’m daft and forgot your old reviews and asks, I didn’t: THIS ISN’T YOUR FIRST ATTEMPT TO APOLOGIZE FOR THIS BULLSHIT. I thought I should clarify that, because heh, you have claimed you won’t come back, you have claimed you’re sorry, you have said many platitudes in the past that actually had no meaning... and I could tell they didn’t, which is why I never answered them. Because there was no way someone who had exhibited such obsessive behavior would actually control themselves and get over their issues after MONTHS of persistent harassment.

And so, you didn’t disappoint, because I had zero expectations that you’d actually abide by your apologies. Empty apologies, again, because to this moment you don’t even know what you did wrong. You don’t get it. To put it in the way I did for someone else who talked to me about this mess:

You could be complaining to me about something else entirely. You could be here, demanding that I explain why I’ve been writing Sokka killing people, for instance. You could be disregarding all sense, reason, historical precedents and what-have-you as to why a warmongering, canonically genocidal nation like the Fire Nation would ever have a system like the Gladiator League and enslave other cultures to do their bidding. 

And if you came back with those complaints PERSISTENTLY, FOR A YEAR, I’D BE JUST AS ANGRY AS I AM NOW.

It’s NOT about the situation you’re throwing a fit over. It’s NOT about me having it out for you. It’s about YOU not knowing limits or boundaries, going as far as you constantly, consistently have, ever seeking to twist my story into whatever warped, fucked up perception you’ve developed over it, without ever slowing down to think that your actions and your behavior are affecting someone else. I’m not just a rambling robot who can’t seem to stop talking or writing or whatever you may think I am: I’m an actual person with a FUCKLOAD of problems, who literally just had the WORST year of her life, and you just decided to continue adding to the pile, never slowing down to consider that your feelings, and your opinions, and your pain, does NOT invalidate other people’s, let alone does it make you EXEMPT of hurting others. Which, heh, if you knew how to read, you could’ve even LEARNED this from Gladiator! :’D 

Because Azula, so hurt as she was, took to hurting Sokka too, in many, many ways. And Sokka, once he understood how wrongly he had judged Azula, simply let her hurt him because he thought he deserved everything she threw at him. Later on? Azula realizes all the pain she caused Sokka COULD have led him to choose the White Lotus over her. She’s in a life-or-death situation, unable to fight back, and the ONLY reason she doesn’t get screwed over and captured by the enemy is because Sokka decides she matters more to him than joining forces with sketchy people who are out for revenge. But what if she’d hurt him more than she had? What if she’d done WORSE than she did? Maybe he would’ve been so hurt too that, at this point, he would’ve chosen the White Lotus and not only abandoned her but handed her over to her nation’s enemies! :’) oh, the horror. Is it really that unthinkable? Why, it’s not to me. And why not? Because if Azula had been as unforgiving and unyielding as you are, if she had been so obsessive over whatever caused her pain and refused to move on... this story would SUCK. BADLY.

Makes you wonder what that says about your mentality, doesn’t it?

Alas, after all this digression as to why your behavior is absolutely appalling to me, let’s see what you did indeed, right after your absolutely shallow apology that was obviously not sincere, because you don’t regret having bothered me at all, you just regret that I won’t abide by your whining...

Is THIS what an apologetic, remorseful person looks like? Really, now? Honestly, if Sokka were half as bad as you are, he would’ve slept with half the Fire Nation by now while constantly coming back to Azula like “Oh woops did it again, sorry!”

Yes, I can honestly make the link pretty easily. Must be why you keep assuming he’ll ever be with someone else, because if you were in his place, you would do exactly that :’) beautiful how things just come full circle, isn’t it?

That ask came as a response to another, potentially ill-intended one, potentially sent by you too. An ask I answered with a whole list of unique things Sokka has done for Azula. Not only did you NOT understand the list’s purpose despite you may have even been the one to ask for it... but you took a line directly referencing OBVIOUS events like chapters 64, 69 and 93, moments in which Azula either put a stop to opportunities where she and Sokka might have ended up going too far, and he accepted it without complaint... or Sokka himself put a stop to them, KNOWING that Azula would be taking a huge risk if she gave herself to him completely as she does from 97 onwards. That you literally took something that was SO VERY OBVIOUS, and twisted it into chapter 28 again speaks LENGTHS of how absolutely messed up your perception and interpretation of this whole story is. You have issues. Serious issues. And I’m not saying this just to be an ass, I’m saying it because it’s clear as day that if you CAN’T stop linking absolutely everything I say or do to chapter 28, whether it’s being referenced or not (and in this case, it was NOT), the problem isn’t me, IT’S YOU.

And here we go again. You are actually trying to POLICE the Sokkla fandom at this point? An ANON? And hey, you returned to the Gladiator blog! Which means you were so pissed that I didn’t answer your previous asks and your phony apology because I KNEW you’d come back that even your teeny, tiny behavioral correction was pulled back because you were MAD. And you HAD TO MAKE YOUR OPINIONS KNOWN, AGAIN.

Do tell, are you the same ass who harassed a pretty new friend I’ve made in this fandom? An honestly solid writer who happens to feature Sokka having other, prior relationships to Azula because, haha, if you work with CANON settings, that’s basically guaranteed since Sokka already has canon relationships before even knowing Azula exists? And then, even if in those experiences Sokka ends up going “... I bet it’d be better with Azula”, you STILL take this as a slight and you consider it a reason to go around harassing writers and potentially even THREATENING to report their content because you’re mad that Sokka isn’t exclusively Azula’s in every single story you pick up?

The worst part is, I actually wrote at least 2 stories in my Saturdays’ oneshots where Azula and Sokka are each other’s first everything, absolutely so. And I got nothing from you for it, not even a teeny tiny “HEY THANK YOU YOU FINALLY WROTE WHAT I WANTED TO SEE!”. No, you only come out of your hole to ATTACK writers. To tell us what to do when you think we’re not doing it right. As if you had the SLIGHTEST right to tell ANYONE what to do.

I literally have been here for EIGHT YEARS. I’ve been creating content for this ship for that long, when nobody else was anymore. I won’t take credit for the ship’s rise in popularity, despite yes, it’s far from a major ship no matter how far we’ve come... but my story didn’t reach the heights it has out of sheer dumb luck. I worked my ass off with Gladiator in every way I could to make it a story of the scope and depth it deserved to be, and the fact that people who didn’t even ship Sokkla were interested in reading the story all the same has always been something I take pride on. A ton of multishippers read this story, and support Sokkla too: neither you nor ANYONE has any right to demand or claim or pretend that someone else has no right to be part of this fandom or to set guidelines as to what their content should be. There’s LITERAL stories out there of Sokka having a goddamn HAREM, just so you know, with Azula included amongst the women involved in it... and you’re here, throwing a fit over people featuring Sokka having one-time encounters and brief relationships with other girls before committing completely to Azula.

I’ve been here, working my ass off for Sokkla, not only in writing but literally developing my art skills to the best of my ability so I could ONE DAY create the visuals and images these two evoked for me... 

And yet I don’t feel I have any right to tell ANYONE how to make their content. 

If there was a set number of words in fics or artworks someone needed to make for a ship to prove themselves worthy of obtaining the skill of GATEKEEPING, I am 100% positive I have more than outdone that limit.

And yet I DON’T play gatekeeper. I NEVER have, and I NEVER will. People can create whatever they want to create, whether I enjoy it or not is up to me, and if I DON’T enjoy it, I DON’T read it. If there’s Sokkla content out there I can’t even STOMACH? I would ignore it and move on with my life. You? You make it your whole life’s crusade to attack people over anything that tickles you wrong. That’s how it works, isn’t it?

Unless you’re planning on pulling a Scooby-Doo-esque twist where you remove your mask and reveal you were a known Sokkla fan and content creator all along, which I find ABSOLUTELY unlikely, then this means you haven’t done anything, ANYTHING, for this fandom beyond sending anonymous harassment to people who are actually taking time out of their lives to create content for this ship. The main reaction I’ve seen at you from ANY of us, whether anons like yourself or actual content creators like myself, is that you have too much time on your hands and need a better hobby. And I agree, completely.

So, where people like me and my fellow Sokkla creators are actually making content that convinces people, if not to ship it, to at least CONSIDER this ship a possibility... you’re out there, in hiding, pretending you have any right to tell us what to do and going ignored on most accounts. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: if I had any respect for someone, and they either stopped responding to me or started responding by telling me to leave them alone, I’d feel like such stain of garbage I’d never even try to interact with them again. While people absolutely can be different and react differently to things... I can’t see how, exactly, you have any respect for me when knowing you’re a problem for me has never stopped you and most likely never will.

I’ll admit, this one actually made me laugh. Like... you’re seriously trying to tell me that a sex scene was way too good and that’s why I have to change it. I actually disagree on every account, because the last time I revisited 28 I thought the scene was absolutely distant from my best work? I’ve written soooo much smut recently and literally any of those scenes kicks 28 out of any “best smut” contest by MILES. But... heh. This one, apparently, was too good.

I mean... thank you? For telling me that my smut skills are apparently that great they need to be toned down? Fascinating, really.

But again, “it sadly seems to be a too late to write chapter 28″. Sadly?

SADLY?

You can stick your sadness up where the sun doesn’t shine, dude: 

SOMEONE WHO THREW SUCH A FIT OVER THEIR REVIEWS BEING REWRITTEN SHOULD

NEVER

TELL SOMEONE ELSE THAT IT’S TOO BAD THEY CAN’T REWRITE ANY OF THEIR CONTENT.

EVER

You can’t pretend, again, that you were EVER sorry for ANY of what you did... while still trying to tell someone they should rewrite their content. Honest to gods, you’re an asshole. You are. And if you think I’m one too, great, I own up to it gladly. But you’re the one willingly intoxicating their brain with my content, only to consistently go MAD over it, and then unleash this kind of illogical nonsense right back at me. I know art can generate a myriad of responses, but I am NOT responsible for your immaturity and inability to handle serious subjects and topics that SHOULD MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. If you don’t KNOW how to deal with the fact that there’s a lot of questionable, dislikeable things in this world, then my damn story is the least of your concerns because you’re well on your way to leading a VERY miserable life, Anon. Better get ready for it, will you?

And again, the Gladiator blog. Again, pretending to be well-mannered, and also, again, using the world “sadly”, same as the ask above. Like... man, what on earth is wrong with you. Are you seriously this masochistic? Do you also drink arsenic for sport? What on EARTH brings you the belief that asking how far or how much was done between Sokka and his previous one-night-stands would help you IN ANY WAY, WHATSOEVER? 

I think I’ll answer that question, for once, with actual quotes, taken right from some of your favorite chapters, no less:

"When you and Ruon Jian got married, was he…?" she asked. Mai only raised a confused eyebrow, and Azula had the distinct feeling that Mai knew what she was talking about, but would force her to blurt it out anyways. She sighed: "A virgin."

Ty Lee's hands flew to her mouth as Mai raised her eyebrows. To Azula's astonishment, she merely shrugged.

"I don't know. I never asked," she said. Azula snorted.

"Then you're smarter than me. By far," she grunted. Mai smirked.

And as things digress there into Azula explaining what happened, let’s skip that and go straight to Mai’s direct answer:

"I've never asked Ruon Jian about whether or not he had anything serious with other girls before me because I seriously don't care," said Mai. "If I knew about it, I'd probably have a bout of jealousy like yours, I suppose… but it's in his past, and he left them behind to make me his present and his future. So, whatever he might have experienced before, with however many women there were, isn't something I'm overly concerned about."

"You're awfully mature compared to me if that's the case," said Azula, slipping her fingers through her hair again. Mai smirked.

"You've been complimenting me quite a lot today, Azula, that's not like you…"

"Shut up," Azula grunted. Mai chuckled.

:’) 

This is the only answer this ask warrants. The fact that you’re so immature and so obsessed as to want to know more about what happened with something you HATE is completely cringeworthy and absurd. If you want to get angry imagining Sokka having wild sex with every woman who crosses his path, go ahead and do it, but do us both a favor and torture yourself, and yourself alone, with those thoughts rather than coming back TWENTY TIMES to my inbox looking for MORE reasons to get angry. You’re honestly unbelievable.

You know, that reading comprehension site I linked up there? Courses, 20% off! Seriously, perfect fit for you. You need it, direly.

Like... how can someone read a story built on the premise of Azula literally defeating Sokka painfully in battle to the point he’s left unable to move, taking Sokka away from home, turning him into a slave, being objectively responsible for the WORST TWO YEARS OF HIS LIFE... and then come to my inbox asking if Azula will ever hurt Sokka?

Dude, you’re off the deep end. You can’t even pretend you have a grasp on reality if you SERIOUSLY THINK Azula has NEVER hurt Sokka. Like, seriously, it feels like you’re reading this truncated version of Gladiator that’s only chapters 28, 111, 112 and perhaps 123? Is that what’s going on?

I’ve had Sokka and Azula arguing over ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING, whether for humorous or for serious purposes, since the very beginning of the story. Their first serious falling out is LITERALLY caused by the direct conflict of their worldviews clashing in chapter 12. Their second falling out was indeed caused by women: by Azula’s discovery that Sokka didn’t want to fight women, which of course, doesn’t bother you in the least because you and I both know that’s NOT what your problem was.

I could literally run through the whole story listing every single argument they’ve had, every single time they’ve hurt each other if that’s what you want: their first time? It literally comes from a very serious argument where Sokka believed he had reached the pinnacle of his potential as a fighter and feared Azula would need someone else to achieve her goals instead of him.

AND YOU’RE SERIOUSLY HERE ASKING IF THEY’LL EVER ARGUE OVER ANYTHING ELSE.

You don’t read this story. This ask absolutely proved it to me. You only read chapter 28 and everything potentially connected to Sokka having anything with other women. You don’t CARE about anything else, simply. Because if anything actually had ANY impact on you? You’d say something about it. But the only thing that touches your weird heart is Sokka sleeping with anyone else or having any potentially romantic interactions with someone else, whether he rejects them or not. 

You don’t care about Gladiator. You only care about your ego, and the validation of your worldview and puritanic morals.

And to that I say, fuck that noise. I write whatever the hell I want to write, and you’re not going to rope me into playing it safe just to please insecure harassers who don’t know boundaries and are completely incapable of empathizing with anyone while demanding everyone should understand their feelings.

Final note on this matter: you, also, have no idea what love is. You plain and simple don’t understand it. You’re even more confused by what love should be than Azula was at the start of this story. You don’t get it, AT ALL.

All you want is for them to get even on things? You literally asked me, when I was in my angry spree of deleting your bullshit, to make Azula and her future husband have happy consensual quality sex with who knows how many orgasms... because it was only fair!

AGAIN: YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND LOVE IN THE LEAST.

If you think love is about getting even, you’re seriously an asshole. If you think love is about both people being 100% equal in social regards and experiences, you don’t even UNDERSTAND human relations. Do you live in a bubble, by any chance? Maybe you do! You must have zero contact with anyone other than people with your same puritanic beliefs, right? So that means you assume everyone who’s different from you is fundamentally a bad person? I take it?

Like... literally at this point I think you’d hear about someone who was abused in their childhood, molested, and your reaction would simply be “Oh wow I hope someone molests whoever they end up marrying too, so that way they may be even in the future and been molested by the exact same number of people, otherwise it’s not really love”.

This is fucking sick. I’m not holding back at this point, it’s SICK. It’s TWISTED. It’s VILE. Your mentality is absolutely repulsive to me. You don’t know what love is, and you have the most literal, obvious change to understand it better by reading this story properly, but instead you just read chapter 28 over and over and over again, isn’t that right?

And here’s the evidence of that. You really want me to answer that last question?

No, it doesn’t bug me to read that AT ALL. Because unlike you? I don’t obsessively reread 28 while disregarding everything else in the story. Unlike you, I don’t revisit the chapter every day to pick apart every line to look for reasons to get extra angry at those developments.

Most of us, when faced with things we DON’T like in fiction? We move past it. You, instead, dig yourself into a hole and continue digging, and then pretend to hold other people responsible for whatever impact this may be having on your psyche. Because yes, you’re holding me responsible for whatever trauma or insecurity this is awakening inside you when you continue to pester me as you have: if you’re an adult, you should have the tools and brains to determine what is and what isn’t acceptable behavior, as well as to curate your own experiences with media, with fandom, with EVERYTHING to do with these communities. If you choose to look for things to hate instead of things to love, THAT’S ON YOU.

And if you’re allegedly looking for things to love but can’t find ANY that suit your purposes (which... is bullshit. Clearly, your only priority is “Sokka must be a virgin who never had anything with anyone else”, and such stories DO exist, which I guarantee considering I’ve written at least THREE of them, where it’s absolutely stated that Sokka’s first and only one is Azula)...

Well, it’s funny. Because when I got here? I was looking for some very specific fics so I could explore whether or not Sokkla made any sense. And I didn’t find them.

Which resulted...

... In me writing the very stories I wanted to see.

Oh, my. Imagine taking your impulses and channeling them into something productive rather than looking for reasons to get angry 24/7! Must be such a NOVEL CONCEPT for you!

Seriously, you have no right to dictate what anyone does. Again, worth bringing up because you INSIST on the rewriting matter. Even if you’re claiming you’re done asking for it, you somehow KEEP bringing it up. And then you act like me mentioning 28′s events here or there in the story is absolutely outrageous... but you just go right on ahead and do the same thing yourself, don’t you? Funny how much of a hypocrite you really are, isn’t it?

The fact that you’re bringing up something I have NEVER written, and have NO INTENTIONS of ever writing, as some sort of stupid, ridiculous argument to be made AGAINST the post I literally reblogged TODAY... is just absurd beyond belief.

The fact that I ever even wrote Sokka cheating on Suki with Azula, which I DID, still bothers me. Because yes, it made for a good story, but the truth is, it doesn’t sit well with me. It worked in The Reason, worked in my collab story with a friend, but it doesn’t mean I feel 100% happy with that choice. Even if the cheating only amounted to a kiss in The Reason, and then a lot worse than just that in the other story, it’s still not cool! :’) I know this!

... And yet no one, NO ONE, has ever caught me writing Sokka cheating on Azula. In fact, when my collab story with my friend seemed to start moving towards that angle I BEGGED her not to do it, and then she didn’t, and my heart was deeply relieved and blissful for it. Because not only did it mean we wouldn’t have to deal with the very controversial and unsettling notion of someone in a good relationship cheating on their significant other... but because in that story, it also showed how much he had grown, and how he was truly devoted to Azula despite he hadn’t been to Suki.

But alas, I have my qualms with that concept, of course I do. And I don’t like it. Ergo, I’ll never write it.

Which begs the question as to WHY, exactly, you’re so obsessed with the notion of Sokka cheating on Azula? Like... do you get off on it? Are you wanking at the idea of Sokka and June every single night and then wake up feeling like crap and then take it out on me, by any chance? Is that what’s going on? Because I’m seriously starting to believe it is.

You clearly don’t understand anything about storytelling, which is probably why you don’t have the guts to create your own content in the first place. But the fact that I reblog a post about how conflict in a story is GOOD, and your first thought is “THEN THAT MEANS YOU APPROVE OF SOKKA CHEATING!” actually says A LOT MORE about you than it says about me. You need help. Clearly, the therapy site I was sending you to the last time wasn’t much good, was it? I guess you just ignored it in the end. Hopefully the reading comprehension one will suit you better, right?

Fuck you, seriously, for coming to someone who has been working this hard for this long, for a ship that they’re completely devoted to, to spout this kind of senseless shit. To think you seriously ever believed I’d accept your half-assed apologies when you’ve been doing this sort of bullshit for this long... you’re a piece of work. If you have the time to write that BULLSHIT into my inbox, at the very least use that time to look INWARD and ponder just what your damn problem is, resolve it on your own, AND LEAVE ME THE HELL OUT OF IT. Someone as immature and unstable as you has no business reading M-rated fiction, and I honestly rue the day you ever clicked my story. Both your life and mine would be countless times better if you simply had scrolled past it.

And on and on we went today. The THREE MORE ASKS that arrived as I was typing this insanely long response. Which resulted in you bumping the total, successfully, to 20. MIGHTY NICE OF YOU TO PROVE ME RIGHT! :’)

Now then, getting serious here... I must say your priorities are fucked. Like. Really fucked.

You’d rather Sokka tries to KILL AZULA than have a one-time sexual encounter with someone?

Like... you’re here, condoning VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN to that extent...? :’D and then you... you actually have the balls to whine because apparently him  hurting her feelings is WORSE?!

Are you EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF???

You know, I think I have to offer you some REALLY good advice right now: go watch Naruto. Seriously, all of it. Go watch it, and enjoy your sweet loins’ release once Sasuke and Sakura start trying to kill each other, ONLY TO END UP TOGETHER AT THE END! :’) They were both 100% faithful to each other too, in the sense of Sakura getting depicted as a girl who can’t ever get over the guy she had a crush on when she was 6, no matter if he tries to kill her or her friends once he starts to go off the deep end, and Sasuke getting depicted as a guy who treats everyone like garbage, even the people he loves, because his manpain story somehow validates him being absolutely toxic to everyone he knows, so that’s absolutely up your alley! 100% the love story you’ve been looking for! You’re gonna LOVE IT.

Man, I just can’t believe you. I really can’t believe you. You’re seriously asking me to feature Sokka trying to kill Azula because that’s more acceptable to you. There was a story out there, you know? With Azula basically using Sokka to commit suicide, impaling herself on his sword and dying? You should just go look for that too, perfect fit for you (though it may be gone from the depths of this wretched site by now, which tbh I’d be grateful for, since it was the most unsettling, disturbing read).

Also? Thank you, truly, for all  the remarkably shallow compliments you’ve thrown at me to “soften” your “criticism” (which, again, is whining, not legitimate criticism). Calling me a capable writer is super NICE of you, especially after all these months of persistent harassment and constant repetition that I should rewrite whatever you don’t like. I mean... that’s definitely the way someone treats a capable writer, isn’t that right? 

“The problem isn’t conflict it’s what the conflict is”, the anon says. I’ve been writing a story for 8 years, 198 chapters and counting... and I’ve had a ton of different types of conflicts for Sokka and Azula to deal with. If your problem is “I don’t like this conflict”, FINE. But... hey. There have been THOUSANDS of other sources of conflict across the story, so many I don’t think I can even promise I’d ever take my time to count them all... there’s whole ARCS with conflicts regarding world politics and the war’s consequences and both Azula and Sokka completely changing their worldviews as they realize their realities are soooo much more complicated than they ever knew...!

Ergo. There ARE other conflicts. There are SO MANY of them that there’s no point in even listing it all out.

And yet you are obsessed with the one conflict you didn’t like, outright acting like THIS IS THE ONLY CONFLICT THERE EVER WAS, as proven by that preposterous and mindless “when will Azula ever hurt Sokka” ask. The one development you were pissed at, because it tickled your loins the wrong way. Oh yes, I’m a capable writer, I could’ve done things differently...!

BUT I DIDN’T!

And aren’t you thrilled that I didn’t? You would be a complete nobody in this fandom if this hadn’t happened, because otherwise what would you POSSIBLY have to complain about?! To harass someone about?! You’d be SO BORED! You’d be so unknown, nobody would even be aware of your existence...!

Though.

Wait.

You’re an anon.

You’re unreachable and nobody really knows who you are.

... So never mind, you actually still are a complete nobody in this fandom and your only attempt to even take part in it is to be a negative, irritating presence that literally makes people facepalm, laugh and ridicule you to the extent I and many others have laughed at you.

And yes, that post I reblogged was 100% worth reblogging. Why? Because it hits the nail on the head:

I DIDN’T WRITE 28 SO YOU’D BE HAPPY WITH SOKKA.

I DIDN’T WRITE THAT CHAPTER TO MAKE PEOPLE THINK “OH WOW WHAT A WHOLESOME SITUATION”.

I WROTE IT BECAUSE IT WAS MEANT TO DETONATE CONFLICT AND SPEED UP CHARACTER GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT, WHICH IT DID.

And the thing is? Maybe, in the future, I’ll write other stories, just as I wrote the Saturdays’ stories, and Sokka won’t have either meaningful or worth mentioning encounters with anyone else in them. Maybe I’ll write original fiction, and there won’t be any twists like what happened in 28! 

But you will never get over this.

You will never care about any other content beyond this.

And that’s your failing, not mine.

If you would rather obsess over what makes you angry, that’s on YOU. But I’m damn sure I wrote a pretty reasonable conflict, character-wise, that was not only consistent with characterization but with the slightly darker take of the Avatarverse I’ve been working with. Not only that, but I NEVER skipped the consequences of their actions. I literally had them facing those consequences for whole arcs. Sokka assumed he’d never have a chance to be with Azula and made his peace with it, WITHOUT EVER PRETENDING HIS DEVELOPING FEELINGS FOR AZULA WERE ANYTHING THAT ENTITLED HIM TO HER LOVE IN RETURN. But oh, that’s too complex for you to understand, isn’t it? The fact that Sokka actually loves Azula for her, and not for himself, that he devotes himself to her in every imaginable way, that he fights people who dare disrespect her, that he would stop at NOTHING, even coming close to killing someone, to keep her safe despite he’s completely against killing people? That all means NOTHING to you.

And again? THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM. THAT’S YOUR FAILING. THAT YOU’RE SO OBSESSED WITH 28 AND CAN’T MOVE PAST IT IS NOT MY FAULT, IT’S YOURS.

Because I damn right moved past it. I’ve moved so far past it I literally don’t ever THINK about that damn situation until your stupid asks start arriving. Heck, maybe if you didn’t ASK so much about it, I’d stop bringing it up in recent chapters of the story :’) how do you feel about that particular kernel of unexpected information? Maybe you’re impacting the story in a whole shocking manner by inception-ing 28 into my head all the time and that’s why I can’t seem to stop throwing in lines referencing it for you to go completely BONKERS over. How about that? :’)

Say... how exactly do you think this fic is special? Literally all I know is you think I’m a capable writer who can create something perfectly catered for you, and yet ALL the feedback I’ve ever gotten from you is “REWRITE 28 AND EVERYTHING ABOUT SOKKA HAVING ANYTHING WITH OTHER GIRLS I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS I’M GENUINELY CURIOUS THIS IS LEGITIMATE CRITICISM SIGNING OFF BYE”. Your compliments are completely devoid of meaning because they’re literally just a handful of “you’re a good writer” and you don’t even say WHY you think I’m good. You don’t ever come here to tell me how much you enjoyed a certain scene, or how happy you are with a certain development... No.

Because when Sokka and Azula got married? What did I get?

“HOW CAN YOU LET SOKKA AND AZULA GET MARRIED NOW WHEN HE SLEPT WITH SOMEONE ELSE IN CHAPTER 28?!”

I wish I had screenshots for those, but you and I both know the truth, you irksome anon, and the truth is you did exactly that. And with every new development in Shu Jing, I got yet more reviews and ask(s), persistently whining about how UNFAIR it is that now Azula apparently is locked in marriage with this unfaithful man who has been unfaithful to her a grand total number of ZERO TIMES ever since their relationship began! How DARES he even think about marrying her?! Scourge of earth, let’s murder him in cold blood because DEATH IS BETTER THAN CHEATING!!!

If you think highly of Gladiator for ANY REASON, you’ve kept those reasons well and safely tucked away in the depths of your broken heart or shared them with anyone but me. Look at all these asks, damn you, and tell me at what point in time did you convey ANYTHING beyond “why don’t you write what I want you to write?”, huh? Because hell, I don’t see it in any of them. Literally nowhere. No backwards (: emojis are compliments or evidence of how much this story allegedly means to you. All I know is that you hate 28 and everything about it.

And you see...

I don’t give a flying fuck. 

I don’t.

You can hate 28 all you want.

You can hate June.

You can hate Sokka.

It is, INDEED, a free world.

But you have no right, NONE WHATSOEVER, to commit to this level of harassment as you have, for A WHOLE YEAR, and pretend the problem is that I, Seyary, the “evil super-sensitive author who writes Sokka sleeping with other people and doesn’t even break a sweat but then crumbles to pieces when “negative” feedback arrives”, can’t handle your comments properly.

I’ve said it before, damn you: NO ONE NEEDS TO REITERATE THEIR OPINIONS A MILLION TIMES. NO ONE. NOT YOU, NOT THE PEOPLE DEMANDING FOR THE PLOT TO KICK INTO HIGH GEAR, NOT THE ONES WHO THINK THIS SHIP IS GARBAGE, NOT ANYONE.

NO ONE HAS ANY RIGHT OR REASON TO COME BACK PERSISTENTLY THORUGHOUT A YEAR TO HARASS SOMEONE NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES THEY’RE TOLD TO STOP IT.

Point being: HATE WHAT YOU WILL! But keep it the fuck off my blog. And if you CAN’T? Get used to these responses. Because you’re going to get them, constantly. I guarantee it.

I know your damn opinion already. I know it by heart and I damn wish I didn’t. You are perfectly free to go read all the other stories where I’ve had Sokka staying faithful to Azula, with Azula being his first, or with Azula being much more experienced and sleeping around while Sokka stays mostly chaste... but you don’t. You come back, every time, to my miserable inbox that must cry every time you show up in it, to make these demands and pretend you have any power over what I should be writing.

Again, no, I have no idea why this story matters to you at all. And at this point? I’d rather NOT know. Because I’m 100% sure the only thing that matters most to you is chapter 28. So you know, go ahead, wank to it again and cry yourself to sleep. It’s kind of fascinating to have written something that has such a visceral emotional impact on a complete and total stranger. Makes it clear I’ve made a lot of progress as a writer if I can fuck up someone’s life to this extent with what I’ve written.

Yeah. Sure. You really think I’ll buy it? You really think this is goodbye? Oh, no, Anon. You can’t stay away. You’ve been told to, you’ve been asked to, but you can’t.

So no, I’m not wishing you good luck back. And I’m certainly not wishing you any fun with my fic, because it’s more than clear that the only source of entertainment it provided you was chapter 28, seeing as it’s the only impactful thing I apparently ever wrote. And someone who’s that obsessed with one of the chapters I most disliked writing despite I knew the plot would benefit from it in the long run simply can’t deserve to have fun. So... good suffering over Gladiator, if anything? Go ahead and continue to wrack your brain while trying to unravel why, oh, why would ANYONE ever write what I wrote and still call themselves a Sokkla shipper?! 

I dunno, maybe go on and write something similar yourself. Could be you’ll finally figure out what your problem is if you take to writing the cheating storylines you’re so very much obsessed with. Only, heh, I can guarantee I’m not touching anything you write, out of principle more than anything. I plain and simple don’t want anything to do with you... but as I don’t intend to close my inbox again, it seems I have no choice, do I?

Good fucking luck sticking to this alleged goodbye... but we both know you’ll be coming back very soon, won’t you? No worries, Anon, I’ll be waiting this time. Let’s see if you can break your 20-ask-streak record next time, shall we? :’)

It’s December 13th, at 2:32 PM, in my location. Let’s see how long it takes you to come back, shall we?

EDIT: I neglected to check constantly so it definitely arrived earlier than this, but officially received a response at least 2 hours after this post went live.

Didn’t I call it? Yep, absolutely called it.

[ryosei-hime]

Sex and Therapy : The Safe Word

Concord learns a bit more about Fizz’s history. Rape is discussed in this chapter. I also attempt to show Concord actually having a life outside of his apartment. : P Also available on AO3.

Concord had a hard time concentrating at work the next day, knowing Fizz waited for him at home. He did his best to pay attention to his clients but, between them, his receptionist could catch him staring off into the distance with a silly grin. 

“Sir, are you okay?” 

Concord blushed and tried to pull his professional demeanor back together before turning his chair to face her fully.

“Yes, of course, Lannah.”

She lowered her spectacles and raised her eyebrows at him as she placed some papers on his desk. 

“I’m fine,” he stated again in a warning tone.

She sighed as she set her glasses up to rest in front of her black and white horns, dropping the professional facade Concord liked to insist upon. 

“I’ve never seen you make more than three facial expressions in all the time I’ve worked for you, Concord. What’s got you so excited?”

“It’s nothing.” He rearranged a few random items on his desk. “Has my three o’ clock arrived.” 

“Canceled.” She gave him a smug look. “Looks like you have some time to talk.” 

“It’s very unprofessional to engage in these sorts of conversations with employees.” 

She gasped and hopped up to sit on his desk. 

“These kinds of conversations? Do you have a date?” 

 Concord cursed his big mouth once more. Of course he used the same phrasing he’d used to try to curtail her oversharing with patients about her personal life.

“In...a way. I suppose. But again, it’s not appropriate workplace conversation.”

“Sir, I’ve worked for you for six years. You have never smiled the way you’ve been smiling today. I gotta know!” 

Concord found himself being shaken by the shoulders. 

“Okay, Lannah! Please, control yourself.” 

She released him and wiggled excitedly as Concord eyed her like a live grenade.

“Who is it? What are they like? How’d you meet?” 

“I...I’d rather not say too much. But I will gladly tell you he’s very out of my league in terms of physical appearance.” 

“He’s hot?” 

Concord lost his professional mask, giddiness taking over as he reacted to Lannah’s energy. 

“He’s so hot, and so tall!” 

“Picture! Picture!” 

“I’m afraid I don’t have one.” 

“Then what’s your favorite part of him?” 

“His eyes. They captivate me.” Concord looked a little bashful as he recalled the way Fizz’s eyes shone in the darkness of the closet. 

“Aww. That’s so sweet. I’m so happy for you, sir. I’ve been worried about you. Couple more years and I would have had to ask you out myself.”

Concord’s gave her a deadpan look.

“Really, Lannah?”

She laughed and poked him on his forehead. 

“Hey, you’re cute enough for a pity date.” 

“Sadly, I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. He did have to deal with Lannah giggling at him from time to time if she caught him smiling to himself. But he combated his embarrassment at being caught expressing happiness by reminding himself she was actually happy for him not laughing at him. 

When Concord finally arrived home, he braced himself to be swept off his feet. But Fizz wasn’t waiting for him at the door like an excited puppy like he expected. That didn’t slow him down. He hucked his briefcase without looking to see where it landed, too busy struggling out of his sweater as he stumbled across the room.

“Fizz! I’m home!” 

“I’m waiting!” he called back. 

Concord finished fighting his way out of his sweater and followed the voice to his room. He found Fizz with his hands above his head, tied to the headboard as he reclined against a pile of pillows. His pose made Concord think of some romance novel covers he’d seen, long legs curled in a way that accentuated the hips, chest thrust forward a bit. Concord’s body reacted as intended, but his mind still got fixated on what should have been an irrelevant fact at this point. 

“How did you tie yourself up?” 

Fizz responded by sticking his long tongue out with a wink and that got him moving. He laughed as Concord scrambled up to him. He took Fizz’s face in his hands and their lips met, desperate and messy, only parting for moments so Concord could breathe. He finally had to lean back and Fizz followed those lips as far as he could, pulling on the ropes binding him. 

He fell back against the pillows and stared up at Concord, a demure expression on his face as he rolled his hips to part his legs. 

“I’m all yours. What’ll you do with me?” 

Concord blushed more for the position he found himself in than anything. He hadn’t planned on taking charge. If he’d known, he’d have spent all day obsessing about it. What would he do? Why did he have to be so awkward? He couldn’t compare to what Fizz did for him.

He had to follow his instincts, Satan help him. He felt his body moving forward, hand sliding up Fizz’s thigh as he leaned up to kiss him again. Softer this time, less desperate as their tongues met and felt each other out. Concord opened his eyes as he pulled away, meeting Fizz’s. 

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” 

He hadn’t even thought before saying it and would have kicked himself if he weren’t so lost in them. Fizz looked amused. 

“You’re such a softie. Did I even need to come up with a safe word?” 

Concord felt a bit embarrassed for a moment. He’d said too much. He felt like hiding before the other half of what Fizz said clicked. He looked confused. 

“Wait. You can’t use the one I use?” 

“Not unless you want me to go rag doll on you, baby. Or are you into that?”

Concord ignored his attempts to keep things rolling.

“That works even when you say it?” Concord’s wheels turned slowly. “But that means….if you can’t…”

Concord reached up and started pulling at the ropes around Fizz’s wrists. 

“I like to show off and all. But that was actually very hard to do on my own, you know.” 

Concord ignored him again, wanting him to be completely free before he started talking. He straddled him as the ropes fell away and intended to look him in the eye, but he couldn’t. He kept his head down, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. 

“Fizz. Your previous owner made it so you couldn’t tell them to….to cease their actions without….terminating your own functioning?” 

“He didn’t like to be told what to do,” Fizz responded coldly.

“He raped you.” 

“I don’t have bodily autonomy. Legally, he was within his rights.” 

Concord looked up suddenly and took Fizz’s face in shaky hands, tears trailing down his cheeks. 

“Fuck legality! Fizz. Who was he? What’s his name?” 

“I can’t tell you. Confidentiality policies.” 

“Could we get Cog to override that?” 

“It’s part of my core programming.” Fizz’s voice suddenly took on a tinny sound. “It is inadvisable to tamper with core Fizzarolli programming. Tampering with core programming will void your warranty. Mammon is not responsible for dismemberment or death once the warranty is void.” 

“Maybe we can….find a loophole?” 

Concord’s eyes were scanning the air for answers now, frantic. 

“Concord.” Fizz took his hands from his face. “Don’t.”

Concord looked at him and Fizz wiped away some of the tears on his cheeks. He stared into his eyes pointedly and Concord looked away. He wrapped his arms around Fizz’s neck and leaned into him for a hug. His voice came out a sad and desperate muffle.

“But he raped you.” 

Fizz’s arms came up around him, tightening as he leaned his head against Concord’s. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess he did. But I’m here with you now.” 

He sounded as if he were only just accepting that word could apply to him. Rage wormed its way into Concord’s heart. It burrowed into the center and made a nest. Fizz couldn’t tell him who he was. But Concord would find him somehow. He’d find him and he’d kill him. 

“You’ll always be safe with me. I promise.” 

Fizz kissed his horn, rubbing his back. 

“I know, baby.” 

Concord pulled back after a bit and wiped at his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be having to comfort me.” 

“So, why don’t you comfort me now?” he suggested with a grin.

“We need to call Cog to turn this safe word off before we do anything.”

“You mean change it.”

“No. We can use safe words without them literally turning you off. I trust you to pause on your own when I ask. Why didn’t I realize it could be turned off before?”

“It can’t. It’s a safety protocol. There has to be a failsafe word. It’s part of the core programming.” 

“Then we’ll change it to something ridiculous that I’ll never be able to pronounce.” 

“Concord. Do I get to have a say on this one?” 

“Of course. But why would you want to keep it?”

“The safe word isn’t bad. What he did with it was. What if something goes wrong with my programming? I could hurt you. I need to know you can shut me down. Let me have this.”

“...I don’t have to let you.” Concord was a little embarrassed he’d gone off and forgotten to take Fizz’s feelings into consideration. “It’s your decision.” 

Fizz slipped a hand behind his head and hooked it around a horn, pulling Concord’s face up to his. 

“Then let’s just wait to call Cog. I promised you a lot of things yesterday. And I really want to give them to you.” 

Concord wanted to check with him that he really wanted to continue after such a sensitive subject, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t try to be Fizz’s therapist. And that was a very therapist thing to ask. Right now he had to trust Fizz knew what he needed. So, he smiled for him and brushed his cheek with a thumb.

“Then take me. I’m yours.”  

He leaned up to kiss Fizz softly, but Fizz didn’t let him pull away, pushing more passion into it. He released his horn and donned his demure look again. 

“But first, let me be yours. Show me that strength in softness you talked about.” 

Concord laughed a little and felt some of the pressure relieved. He didn’t have to live up to Fizz. He could just be himself and Fizz would at the very least find it adorable or quaint. Maybe that was okay. As long as he brought Fizz any kind of joy. 

As long as he made him forget for even a moment. 

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

What about a fic where the reader is about to ask out Jask when he comes in happy to announce hes got a date. So to try and get over her feelings, the reader gets a date as well, but they both end up getting stood up and go on the date together?

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,916Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock a/n: This went longer than anticipated (story of my writing life) but here you go!

“I mean it, Geralt, this is happening.”

Geralt eyed you skeptically and you couldn’t really blame him. You’d been saying you were going to ask Jaskier out for almost as long as you’d known them both but somehow never got around to it. Geralt tried not to get involved in other people’s lives, especially not their love lives, but somehow he’d become your confidante as you grappled with your feelings for the bard. Geralt knew the attraction was mutual but made a point of not mentioning it, worrying about how complicated things might get if you and Jaskier became an item. Thankfully while Jaskier flirted the usual amount, you’d been cautious, and that caution had made the months peaceful. Still, Geralt thought as he regarded your determined, hopeful face, maybe the happiness the two of you would share in being together would be a fair enough tradeoff for that peace. As long as he didn’t have to be involved in it anymore.

“Geralt? Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard Jaskier return from his trip into the nearby village. Geralt quickly moved to Roach, practically hiding himself behind her to try and stay out of the way.

“Y/N! I have excellent news!” he said when he saw you, quickly hurrying over to where you stood.

“You got a job?” you asked.

“Better,” he answered, “I got a date!”

“Fuck.”

“What was that Geralt?” Jaskier asked, turning to the man whose head peeked out from behind Roach.

“Nothing,” Geralt answered, glancing at you and then away. Your face had frozen, a mask of happiness that would only hold for so long.

“Oh!” you said, “Wow!”

“Yes I was checking the tavern to see about jobs and this delightful creature was there and we began chatting and she agreed to meet with me back at the tavern this evening. So you may have the room at the inn all to yourself, Geralt. Or you may have to sleep with Roach, we’ll see how it goes,” Jaskier said.

“Are you sure about this, Jaskier?” Geralt asked.

“What do you mean ‘am I sure about this’ Geralt? What could I possibly not be sure about?” Jaskier asked exasperatedly. You looked to Geralt and gave him a pleading look which misread horribly.

“What if you get a better offer,” he persisted.

“Beautiful women don’t just grow on trees, Geralt, I’ll be happy to take what I’ve found,” Jaskier answered and then turned to you, “Can you believe him?”

“He’s just jealous,” you said, “Because we have dates and he doesn’t.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh! You have a date as well? How did that happen? Haven’t you been at camp all day?” Jaskier asked.

“I… left,” you said quickly, making it up as you went and trying to ignore Geralt’s eyes boring into the back of your head.

“Oh, I didn’t see you, we could have walked back together,” Jaskier said.

“Well I was going to see you but then I was distracted by the man I am going on a date with,” you said.

“Hmm.”

“What’s his name?”

“Will,” you answered.

“Well perhaps we will see you at the tavern!” Jaskier said.

“Yes you will, you will probably see Will and I there,” you replied.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt would you like some water, your throat seems to need a lot of clearing,” you snapped.

“Well, I must go and get ready for this evening. Do you think there’s enough time to write a song? Or would that be coming on too strong for a first date?” Jaskier asked. It was hypothetical and you didn’t bother answering as he pulled out his journal and began composing.

“I am going to head into town to prepare for my date as well,” you said, pointedly walking past Geralt without making eye contact as you headed towards town.

At first you’d just said you had a date to try and soothe your wounded feelings but as you approached town the idea was appealing. It would be a nice distraction Jaskier’s date and why shouldn’t you do what pleased you? You clearly didn’t have anyone to wait for.

It was easier to find a date than you’d expected. You’d intended to go to the tavern, hoping to have the same luck, but you’d stopped by the smithy to see how much they would charge to sharpen your dagger and there he was. Tom was the definition of a strapping young man, muscles forged from his work and chiseled features. He offered to sharpen your dagger for free and you bantered easily and comfortably and when you asked if he would join you at the tavern, he’d eagerly accepted.

You stayed close to town and got to the tavern early, but not quite as early as Jaskier who already leaned against a table, strumming his lute in a little tune you didn’t know but felt certain you’d hear performed by the end of the night. You gave him a little wave back when he spotted you and then took your place at a table by the door.

An hour passed.

One hour became two.

Two became three.

By the fourth it was clear that he wasn’t coming. You weren’t the only one facing the embarrassment of being stood up however and you were conflicted as you watched Jaskier keep looking to the door whenever it opened, only to look disappointed when it turned out to be someone else. You gave him a little wave and he walked over to your table, slumping down across from you dejectedly.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” you echoed.

“Will never came either I take it?” he asked. You shook your head no and he scoffed.

“Well clearly this town’s citizens are utter dolts,” Jaskier declared, earning more than one glare from citizens nearby.

“I’m sorry Jaskier,” you said earnestly, “If she’s going to pass up a chance at a date with you it is her loss. Truly.”

Jaskier smiled appreciatively and then his eyes brightened again.

“I know how to turn this evening around,” he said excitedly, leaning forward.

“What?” you asked, prepared for him to offer a special performance for the tavern.

“We shall go on a date!” he declared proudly.

You had not been prepared for that.  

“A date,” you repeated, “As in, you and I on a date?”

“Yes that is usually what going on a date means,” Jaskier replied, “So what do you say?”

You considered the offer, pretending you hadn’t started the day with this very result in mind, and finally gave him a bright smile and said,

“Alright, but I warn you I’ve never been on a date with Viscount before. I don’t even know which fork to use,” you teased, you loved bringing up the title he typically shrugged off.

“Right, just for that I’m getting you their second best mead,” he said, walking to the bar in a faux huff. You weren’t sure if this was a genuine date. He brought you their finest mead, because of course he did, but that was just Jaskier. It was also normal for him to be charming and to compliment you and gaze at you as you spoke, hanging on every word even if you knew the story wasn’t that interesting. As the evening progressed the mead loosened your tongue and when you sat laughing together over an expertly told joke he’d told you looked up at him and said,

“Why have we never done this before?”

“We get drinks all the time,” he replied.

“No, you know what I mean. Why have we never had a date. Or… something,” you said, just enough control to not elaborate further on what ‘something’ could be. Jaskier considered the question and then shrugged.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you were interest,” he said.

“What?”

“Well you’ve always been nice to me but I thought you probably spent so much time around me anyway you wouldn’t want to spend the little you had left to offer someone else still with me,” he explained.

“You know Jaskier,” you said, taking another drink of your mead and fixing him with an incredulous smile, “For a genius you can be such an idiot sometimes.”

“Rude,” he mumbled into his cup as he took another drink. You reached your hand across the table to take his.

“I was going to ask you out,” you confessed, “Tonight. I was going to ask you when you came back from trying to find work.”

His eyes widened with surprise.

“Truly?”

You nodded and drained the rest of your cup, knowing you needed to get some rest soon for the next leg of your journey starting early in the morning.

“Y/N if I’d known I never would have asked-”

“No, don’t do that. We don’t owe each other anything. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad Tom didn’t show up tonight,” you said.

“Who’s Tom?”

“Will. I’m glad Will didn’t show up tonight,” you corrected, rising from the table to head to your room. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Jaskier.”

You started off towards the room but Jaskier hurried after you, insisting on escorting you to your room. You giggled, a sign you maybe should have stopped before that last drink, but allowed him to continue the charade of walking you home.

“Thank you for escorting me, Sir Pankratz,” you said with a clumsy attempt at a curtsey, making him laugh as he helped you right yourself. You leaned your back on the door, facing him to say goodnight.

“You know, Y/N, I’m not sure how Tom or Will or whoever would have ended things, but when I reach the end of a date I usually like to at least offer a goodnight kiss,” he said, leaning against the door and giving you a soft, heavy lidded smile.

“Oh,” you said, eyes glancing from his mouth back up to his eyes, “Well, I don’t know how whatshername would have responded but I will enthusiastically accept.”

He smiled, shaking his head slightly, then cupped your face in his hands, taking his time to cup your face in his large, lute-calloused hands. He gently brushed a thumb over your lips, and then, slowly, he pressed his mouth against yours.  The kiss was unhurried, he took his time savoring the taste of mead on your lips and the soft sigh that escaped you as he captured your bottom lip between his teeth. Your hands rested against his chest and his hands slid down to your shoulders, pressing you against the door as he deepened the kiss.

“Fuck.”

You opened your eyes and the both of you turned to the sound. Geralt stood in the hall, clearly on his way to the room which was next to yours. Jaskier pulled away from you and you just stared at Geralt, face flame red but unabashedly grinning at him.

“We’ve been on a date,” Jaskier announced.

“Hmm yes I can see that,” Geralt replied.

“We are dating now,” Jaskier said in a tone that dared Geralt to challenge it. Geralt looked from the bard to you, still pressed up against the door and sighed heavily.

“I’m going to bed,” you said quickly, “Goodnight Geralt, Goodnight Jaskier, thank you for a lovely date.”

You disappeared behind the door before you had to deal with any of the awkwardness left lingering the hallway and collapsed onto the bed, burrowing your head in the pillow and falling into a peaceful sleep with a smile lingering on your lips.

[tiaragqueen]

Could you do a scenario where Vincent Phantomhive falls for a shy darling who is good at sword fighting, please?

In A Dither

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Vincent Phantomhive x Reader

✂ Word Count: 2k

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, yandere theme.

[Edited]

***

That feeling when you have a vague idea about a scenario and it literally disappears at the last minute is just–

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“Cuz you’re my favorite subject. My sweet, submissive subject. My loyal, royal subject.” - You’ll Be Back [Hamilton]

There was something… strange about you.

Vincent realized that once he caught you sneaking glances towards the practice room. It was a subtle movement; one that most people would surely overlook. But Vincent was trained to be observant, both for socializing purpose and for detecting any enemy within the vicinity. He might be known as a courteous gentleman who always spared a minute to exchange pleasantries, yet he wasn’t without his foes. He needed to be alert pretty much at all times, even if he had guards around.

However, you didn’t seem to have done another thing that might warrant suspicion aside from those straying glances. He supposed it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, per se. Who knows, you might be curious about the new environment. After all, you had been working here for a month now. It wouldn’t be weird if you wanted to know the purpose of each room or memorize the locations. The many places inside his manor could be a bit tricky to remember.

Still, positive thinking didn’t ease his interest and slight wariness. In fact, the longer you worked here, the more Vincent began to grow curious with you. Well, looking at your mannerisms alone, there was nothing remarkably intriguing from you as far as he could see. You were shy, sure. He’d met similar people before, mostly from the townspeople who were fortunate enough to talk with him. You rarely spoke up, and if you did, it would come out as mumbles and stammers instead. You were obedient and polite. You never shirked your duties nor did you complain about them. Overall, you were an excellent maid. Though, it should be expected from his workers.

But he certainly never expected you to be able to do sword fighting, either.

The way your black skirt fluttered behind you as it tried to catch up with your rapid movements, the way your usually meek demeanor turned into one of pure concentration, the way the silver sword slashed through the thin air, the way those [h/c] strands of hair clung on to your sweaty forehead, and the way you looked so determined to ward off the invisible enemies. It was unlike anything that he’d ever seen from you before.

The you who he used to think was demure and almost unnoticeable.

The you who always blushed whenever you encountered him.

The you who looked at the practice room with a glint of longing in those droopy eyes of yours.

Although startled, a small smile that graced his handsome features expressed the pleasure and proudness of a father whose child was working hard for something. You seemed to be in your element, he noted; so focused yet… oblivious to your surroundings.

When you finished your ‘training’ with a vicious thrust to the ceiling, Vincent decided that it would be appropriate to announce his presence and satisfaction.

“How graceful.”

You snapped your head towards him and immediately dropped the sword. Vincent grimaced a little when it fell with a clang against the marble floor, the sound ringing in the spacious room. You bowed deeply, almost shamefully, unaware of the displeasure that distorted his controlled visage “F-forgive me, my Lord!” you squeaked, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and vision blurry from the upcoming tears. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…”

Despite the initial yet short-lived shock of hearing you raise your voice for the first time, Vincent found himself chuckling good-humoredly and strode across the room towards you. It seemed that today, you were determined to surprise him even though he knew it was none of your intentions, to begin with. Though, he couldn’t deny that your shivering figure made you look cuter under his warmyet sharp gaze. “It’s alright, [Name]. No need to be so flustered. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” You flinched when his hand reached out to pat your trembling shoulder. “In fact, I happened to enjoy it very much.”

Blinking in confusion, you inclined your head and sniffled. “Thank you…” you mumbled, unsure of how to respond any further. It wasn’t as though you practiced for the sake of showing off to him. However, his compliment managed to relax your thumping heart somehow. His lowered voice and gentle look helped to that, too.

“How long have you been practicing sword fighting?” he inquired, bending down to retrieve the sword you’d dropped out of the horror of being caught red-handed. “Judging from your movements, I’d say a long time ago.”

“Well, I…” You pursed your lips and played with the hem of your apron. “… When I was a little girl, I used to play sword fighting with my brother. I… didn’t have any friends, to begin with, so he became my first and only friend. He insisted on playing sword fighting with me, and although I’d initially resisted it, I relented.

Somehow, sword fighting became something that I’m fond of. And when I saw a real sword in this house, I’d thought it would be a good idea to try it out. To see whether I could polish my skill. I-I’m sorry for using it without your permission, my Lord.” You immediately apologized in fear of him getting the wrong idea. “I assure you, I have no intention of hurting anyone in this house. Especially not you. I only intend to have some skill to help me protect myself should I’m in some predicament.”

“What a practical outlook,” he remarked, his eyes hardened slightly as he tried to ascertain whether you told the truth or the lie. He didn’t want you to know that he was secretly analyzing you. It would intensify your anxiety even more and, thus, prompting you to be defensive towards his innocent inquiries. Vincent couldn’t study you if you kept stuttering nonsense. “It seems that I have misjudged you. I apologize for that, too.”

You hesitantly nodded, still keeping your gaze on the floor.

“And no, I’m not mad. Really. I was being truthful when I said I enjoyed seeing your training very much.” Vincent smiled softly to further convince you of his sincerity. It was endearing of you to assume he would be angry over such an insignificant matter when you hadn’t even witnessed how he would react to irritation. Not that he would display it, though. There were other, far easier ways to prove his dominance over you than simply yelling around. “I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

You nervously glanced at him through your eyelashes, worried that he might have demanded your presence and you weren’t there to fulfill his orders. “Were you summoning me, my Lord?” you asked meekly.

“Ah, no. It was a pure coincidence that I passed by this room, and I was grateful for having the opportunity to see your training from up close. If you don’t mind,” he invitingly extended his right hand and smiled cordially. “Would it be possible for us to train together? I could teach you a thing or two regarding sword fighting, and I could be your opponent to test your skill. What do you say, [Name]? Would you accept it?”

You stared down at the palm. At the offer that he so generously gave to you. At the soft smile that gently urged you to just go and comply. Looking back at it, you should’ve known that it was merely a clever ruse to get close to you. You should’ve rejected it. You should’ve been more mindful of your status. You should’ve made up an excuse. But your young self was happy with the prospect of being taught by such an intelligent and skilled man, so you put your hand on his and beamed.

“Yes. Thank you so much, my Lord.”

And indeed, he didn’t disappoint you. Not in the least bit. He was just as skilled as you’d expected, and he was just as intelligent in raising your status from a scullery maid to a personal maid. You didn’t think he even needed one in the first place since the butler had done his job very well. However, Vincent was your master and to disobey him would be a bad decision.

And you’d know it soon enough.

“You’re becoming more and more adept in sword fighting,” he remarked, clapping his hands after you showed him your recent ‘improvement’. “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“It would be a shame if something were to happen to your first and only friend.”

You stole a glance towards his pleased mien before looking away. “Thank you, my Lord.” you murmured.

“Why… why are you doing this, my Lord? What could you possibly gain from this?”

Vincent held out a hand and lifted you effortlessly from the floor, where it had taken the brunt of your defeat against him. “How about we visit the town? As a reward, you’re free to buy anything you want.”

“Isn’t it obvious already?” He hummed and stared through the window that overlooked an ample garden. “Ah, I suppose it’s not. You can’t comprehend vague things very well, do you? No worries, I’ll be more than happy to reiterate it to you. You’re my beloved maid, after all. You’ve done so much for me. I think it’s time to give you some bonus, no?”

“No. Thank you for the offer, my Lord, but I’m fine. I don’t need anything.” You patted your skirt from the nonexistent dust, ignoring how he was still grasping your hand and the hold that became a bit tighter and tighter with each second passed in weak rejection.

��B-bonus…?”

“Nonsense,” he gripped your intertwined fingers and squeezed them none too gently. “I promised you, didn’t I? And I’m not one to go back on my words, nor do I intend to do so anytime soon.”

Vincent smiled; the very same smile that had enticed you to this predicament in the first place. “I want you to be my maid, and I shall double your compensation.”

“Of course…”

“B-but, what about your butler?”

Vincent simpered, pleased with your immediate compliance. “Go and change your clothes into a more appropriate one. We shall go before noon.”

“He’ll keep working, of course. His duty doesn’t exist merely to serve me, as he has other important things to do.”

You hurriedly nodded and scurried out of the practice room, unable to bear his overwhelming presence any longer. You didn’t know how you could persist to be with him for so long. You didn’t know how your body managed to keep holding on to life around his cold and calculating aura. You didn’t know how you could survive without breaking down in front of him.

“No, I-I can’t. I can’t do that. I’m sorry, but I still reject it.”

Perhaps, this was a price you had to pay for studying under his tutelage. After all, nothing was free in this world.

“Is that so?” Vincent hummed in mock understanding and put a fist under his chin. “I suppose I can’t exactly change your mind, can I?”

Or maybe, this was a price for willingly giving up your freedom to him.

“Don’t you want to raise your family from poverty, [Name]? Surely you’re not cruel enough to abandon them, right? Your… friend won’t be happy to hear this.”

“Oh, and [Name]?”

“My payment is enough.”

You halted on your tracks, patiently waiting for his next order despite the thundering sound of your heart against its ribcage.

“We all know that you can only do so much with the payment of a scullery maid. I doubt that you can even feed your family for a full month.”

“I will be holding a ball next week. I figured I should tell you now, so you can be prepared to be my partner.” Your eyes widened horrifyingly, yet his expression was less than fake pleasantness. “A fitting and beautiful dress, that is what youneed.”

“I…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and reluctantly nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”

“And what could I possibly gain from this, you may ask? Well, a lot.”

[sleepymarmot]

Re-liveblog: eps. 4 & 10

Here's something I've been planning to do for a while -- rereading the liveblog of The Untamed I wrote a couple of months ago and looking at my own initial reactions to Jin Guangyao's storyline with new eyes. Returning to old liveblogs is always fun, but particularly when the perspective on something changes so much by the end of the story!

Of course, this turned into a monstrosity with word count in thousands that sat in my drafts for about a month, and involved rewatching most of the scenes the liveblog mentioned, and some that it didn't. Please be warned: this series of posts is not meant to be a comprehensive analysis, and will jump from one point to another or highlight only the things I have changed my mind about, or haven’t talked on this blog before. It is going to include some very personal interpretations and opinions, sometimes possibly (or definitely, in the case of this very post) unpopular or negative. I am here to reflect on my own experience of watching the show almost as much as to write meta about the show itself.

[All re-liveblog posts]

[ep 4]

is this shy illegitimate son the same person who summoned WWX in the first episode, or are they two entirely unrelated bastards? I don’t think the ages match up…

Oh, so that's what I was thinking during Meng Yao's introduction scene: trying to figure out whether he was the same person as Mo Xuanyu or not. That's funny.

[negativity ahead!]

Of course, I was also admiring Xichen's elegant way of Using His Privilege For Good, but I thought that was self-explanatory enough not to put in the liveblog. It didn’t occur to me this scene could be interpreted as a sect leader openly hitting on a disadvantaged youth, or that such an interpretation would be popular, especially in a literal and positive way as opposed to a dark or subversive headcanon. So even if this is ever confirmed to be an intended message of the scene, I’d just say “I recognize the council has made a decision...” and continue to disregard it. Kind of incredible how it manages to squick me in at least five ways -- and xiayo is one of my main ships in this fandom! And not only squick -- in my eyes, sexualizing LXC’s intentions in this scene not only adds something that I don’t like, but actively detracts from the textual, surface meaning and narrative function of LXC’s actions (establishing LXC as a Model Authority Figure who masterfully manipulates the social power dynamics not for self-interest, but for justice, kindness, and peaceful conflict resolution; see also the following scene with the Wens). And from the other side, I think Meng Yao is shocked and impressed specifically because someone like LXC would do this for someone like him without an ulterior motive; I suspect that if he saw this as LXC making an excuse to touch someone attractive, he would only be turned off: a sect leader who can’t keep his hands to himself is nothing new and nothing good from the point of view of JGS’s illegitimate child.

But if this brief brushing of hands holds any in-universe significance in addition to a possible foreshadowing of this relationship’s future importance -- I think I just finally realized what it must be! This interaction is an adaptation of the following scene from the book (which, to be fair, happens when MY and LXC already know each other, not during a first meeting):

Meng Yao had been a famous joke for a certain period of time, which was why a few recognized him. Likely thinking that the son of a prostitute perhaps also carried some unclean things with him, the cultivators didn’t drink from the cups that he had presented with both hands. Instead, they put the cups to the side and even took out white handkerchiefs. As though it felt too uncomfortable, they repeatedly wiped the fingers that they’d touched the teacup with, either intentionally or not. Nie MingJue wasn’t someone mindful to such things. Wei WuXian, though, caught sight of this through the corners of his eyes. Meng Yao acted as if he didn’t see anything, his smile unfaltering as he continued to pass around tea.

As Lan XiChen accepted his cup, he looked up at him and smiled, “Thank you.”

He drank a sip of the tea immediately afterward. Only then did he continue to converse with Nie MingJue. A few cultivators began to feel uneasy as they saw the scene.

(Chapter 48)

So CQL!Meng Yao’s eyebrows twitch in pleased surprise because the sect leader not only personally approached to verbally support him, but took something directly from his hands, not even trying to avoid him or flinching at skin contact. As if it didn’t even occur to the majestic Zewu-jun to think of Meng Yao as dirty or disgusting.

I don’t know if this is an intended interpretation either, because I don’t remember anyone specifically avoiding physical contact with MY in the show, and on the contrary, there were examples of both friendly (from Huaisang) and unfriendly (from the commander) touch. But I certainly prefer it to the other interpretation, and ignoring the interaction altogether seems a bit intellectually dishonest.

[/negativity]

On another note, much is said about JGY’s performativity, but check out LXC’s! Someone’s being bullied in his classroom? Not on his watch! Time to descend from his pedestal like truth coming out of her well, Very Pointedly and at length explain how this person Has His Official And Personal Approval And Is Very Welcome Here, then take the gift from him personally instead of letting a disciple do that. Note how in the following scene, he also personally accepts the gift from Wen Qing as a peacemaking gesture. I love how LXC’s character establishing event is about defusing not one but two uncomfortable situations in a row. Of the two brothers, all social skills went to him...

I have no comment on the goodbye scene. Just sadness.

Oh wait, after rewatching the entire show and coming back to the post, I do have something to say. This episode is the only time I can say with all certainty that all of Meng Yao’s words and reactions are fully sincere. After this point in the timeline, it will never happen again. :(

It’s a shame that the gifs I’ve seen of this scene end with the iconic stopped bow, because the final shots are also great! As soon as MY turns away, his face becomes clouded again, and seconds after the Sect Leader himself held his arms and assured they were peers, he felt the need to bow and lower his eyes as some unnamed disciples walked by. And the bitter look he sends after them tells the viewer how much he is aware of falling from the dreamland where a nobleman would compliment him like three times within three minutes, back to the regular life where it is better not to be noticed at all. Meanwhile, Xichen looks him in the back like “I want it to grow strong and healthy, I want to tell my friends and neighbors about it”.

[ep 10]

Alright, when 10 minutes ago I thought “Meng Yao, sweetie, kill that clown”, this is not what I had in mind

SOMEBODY GIVE MENG YAO A HUG (after some emergency medical care) HE HAS DONE NOTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE. Can Xichen adopt him now?

Ah, the joys of the first viewing. 

At this point, I was thinking of both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exclusively as of father figures for Meng Yao. For LXC I think I slowly started to notice the romantic tension later but made a complete flip to the romantic interpretation only during the "late light talks... no sign of curse on his body" conversation. For NMJ it was during the head flashback. And as much as I like these pairings, it does feel like a loss that their existence displaces the very different pseudo-family dynamic. I think a story in which NMJ, LXC, WRH and JGS are all openly presented as competing father figures would be interesting; has anyone written that?

On rewatch, I was outraged by all of the blatant manipulation that I bought completely on the first viewing. MY is very good at playing a wounded bird -- especially when he's literally wounded. I had wondered why he just limped away without treating it, but now it's obvious he is using Stoic Suffering to invoke pity and admiration. Just like, a few minutes earlier, he showed NMJ that he was ready to be struck down, and it saved his life. He tells NHS with a sad but brave face “I won't be able to take care of you anymore” and on first viewing it worked on me just as he intended -- I thought “Poor boy, so trained to serve, he puts his duty to others above his own feelings even in this situation”. Ha...

And NMJ is only helping his case. He had the chance to explain everything and share the truth of MY's actions. And in the novel, he does take this chance, retelling the incident to Xichen (who chooses to turn a blind eye). Instead, NMJ basically confirms MY’s narrative: by hiding the reason for the exile, he makes it seem like there was no respectable reason at all. NMJ, all by himself, makes himself look like an irrational tyrant, and MY like a victim of an arbitrariness. And he does it in front of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, no less -- an heir to a major clan and his brother! By trying not to discuss internal problems with outsiders, he achieves an opposite effect. Luckily for him, JC and WWX don't give a shit... But imagine how different the plot would be if they had this information from the start?

What I still don't understand is -- what was Meng Yao’s plan in this episode? Who was he working for? Who was his accomplice, whose feet we saw in the later flasback -- surely not Xue Yang himself, he’s supposed to be under arrest! Was he working with the Jin secretly already? (I don’t think so: in a later scene, JGS asks him about this incident, seemingly ignorant.) Or with the Wen (I don't remember -- did Xue Yang go back to the Wen afterwards)? Or just with Xue Yang directly, setting him completely free just on the promise of future cooperation? This seems most plausible -- but to risk and lose everything over such an uncertain gamble doesn’t make MY look very smart.

I have some other things to say about the events of this episode, but they’ll be in the post about the flashbacks in episode 41.

[be-ca-lm]

pls ignore just gotta get thoughts out of my brain

tw rape and sexual assault ok so i think it started very young when i couldn’t understand why the hell boys and men seemed more important to god and that god was always presented male - i was very young, like elementary aged when i reasoned: he made us in his own image, in order to create female he has to BE equally female, he has to have female image. i was told no no that is wrong and bad and heresy.

then i ALWAYS chafed at the idea of women being helpmeets to men, created as servants to them, their sole reason for existing being in service to better, stronger, smarter males (who cause all the problems like wtf) and that doesn’t seem right or just. the garden was perfect the world god created was perfect so why create anything as lesser than? do you hate women? but men came first - then woman to help, woman as decoration, as slave, as child bearer, as comforter, as mother, as scapegoat. woman as weaker. she fell for temptation in the garden, where was adam? See? Women are stupid, need protecting, incapable of rational thought, logic, reason. look how gullible. look how dangerous to be left unsupervised. all of humanity condemned to fiery torment because of woman. no responsibility of man. hate woman, blame woman, hurt woman, you have every justification to do so. she is trapped, hobbled, shackled, tied to you for her protection, existence, safety. she is prize, she is bounty, she is spoils of war. daughters are property. a woman who does not produce children is worthless, sons are currency for power, social capital, strength. daughters serve you. woman is there as punching bag, as masturbatory relief, as house slave, as decoration, worthless but worth stealing, dirty but rapeable, stupid but cunning, pure but deceptive, ruined but redeemable through birthing. a portal, a tool, woman as commodity, woman as vehicle of corruption and vehicle of salvation, simultaneously and never, all at once and at the same time, wretched and woman. not equal to, but a compliment. a complement. you are no equal to god’s masterpiece, the man. do not kid yourself.

god’s grand plan! look at his design. how perfect. how freeing. how it was meant to be. he created woman who would ruin it, but he is not to blame, it is his creation’s fault, but not the man who he likes better, no not his fault. she is saved through childbirth? she is worthy as ALWAYS depending on her proximity to a MAN to a husband father brother rapist captor buyer slaver son stoner judge jury executioner savior.

so why? why condemn me to this torturous existence, why give me the capacity to KNOW that I am intended to be Less Than, that I am the Weaker Vessel, that I am Not A Man but give me no comfort in that, no recourse, no ability to appeal this existence. Make me a man! I could do so much more for you! I could do your pillaging and raping, I could do your genocide, I could carry out your orders, sacrifice my children, I could spread your Gospel and praise your name, I could earn my place in your heaven by your side because you commanded that I Love You, I could invade your earth, slaughter your animals, impregnate your weaker washy women and fulfill your great commission, i could be the mulitiplier, the glorifier, the pastor preacher whitewasher brainwasher tombfiller father soldier conqueror profiteer leader ruler dictator sin hater. PICK ME CHOOSE ME all I wanted was to be LOVED by you to be told WELL DONE MY GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT am i not enough for you and since i so clearly am not, why did you create me this way. 

find peace in your role. you have purpose. then why does that not feel natural as young as five years old? at 10? at 14? at 18? at 27? at 33? jesus knows your sorrows he knows you- JESUS CANNOT RELATE TO ME. he was born a man. he was not asked to make himself small. he submitted to dying. no one asked me if i wanted to volunteer. could i come back a man? I do not want to be a man. I want to be a woman in an existence where that is not automatically a Bad Thing, automatically a disadvantage. I am born guilty of the fall of humanity on my shoulders and told my shoulders can never be strong enough to carry that weight. a man will save me. be submissive. men are leaders, you are not naturally a leader. 

men are logical. they can compartmentalize. women are emotional. they cannot compartmentalize, they are ruled by their emotions. men are waffles. women are spaghetti. men are from mars. women are from venus. pop psychology will explain why men are Better. they are better at math, geometry, women cannot visualize things in their brains like that. women are not good engineers. women are soft and kind and nurturing. THIS IS WHAT WAS TOLD TO MY FACE AS A CHILD. i nodded. ok this must be so, i do not see it, it is not true for me, it is not true of any of the women i know, but my dad is saying this IT MUST BE TRUE. how does he know how my brain is wired? 

an escape. i learned about biblical singleness. i do not have to marry, i do not have to trade one household bondage for another, one male protector for a new one. i have an option? I can be single, nay, a single MISSIONARY. i can escape america, the bible belt, i can really and truly help people. i can share my burdens with them so i do not have to carry them alone. it will please god. it will make up for my being born a useless woman. if i do not marry, i do not have to submit to a man. i can be free. i can find some type of comfort in this lifetime.

somewhere along the way, i put aside my ever-growing frustrations toward the treatment of women and the hypocrisy. husbands lead the wife, they are the Head of the Household. I never saw that enacted. Pastor’s wives planned events, spoke at bible studies, sat on committees - it was limited to women only events, yes, but they led? they spoke? they taught and preached and sang and witnessed? the cognitive dissonance was too much. they budgeted, they shopped, they wore clothes i wasn’t allowed to, they were showy. but not allowed to speak in church, not allowed to preach, to pastor, to shepherd. they could mentor. Oh! Perfect. call it a different name and then you can do it. You’re not a pastor, a mentor. Not a preacher, a Bible teacher. The pastor husbands walked around domineering their families and making all the decisions? No - their families would have imploded. They preached submission but in function they were a team. everyone’s parents were. so i guess we can get away with it, and that makes it ok. label it differently and suddenly the bible has nothing to say on that particular matter. they are playing theological gymnastics, but if they can, i can too. i can sleep at night now, i do not have to be angry at god. i can ignore it.

A thought. I believe it grew in the garden of my own mind, but it’s possible a wayward seed blew in from elsewhere but I don’t remember. I was all-in, I silenced my doubts, I screwed my courage to the sticking place, I said yes I believe this, yes I am a dirty sinner, yes I do not deserve grace or mercy or forgiveness, yes I believe that god can give me that anyway in return for my life, my love, my thoughts, my actions, my deeds, my affiliations, my comfort, my pride, my complete and total surrender of my Self, my personality, my person, my autonomy, my desires, my entire existence. I was fervent. I learned the most, I delved in deep, it was theology, soteriology, epistemology, apologetics, baptisms and trinities and divine mysteries. i knew nothing of secular science, i learned nothing of sex. I knew dead men - Calvin, Luther, Arminius, Aquinas, Origen, Augustine, Spurgeon, Bonhoeffer, Wycliff, Niemoller, Lewis, Piper, Paul, James, I knew creeds, doctrines, catechisms, doxology, councils, heresies. 

And I thought. I am all in. I accept all this. I evoke the proper response in myself when I learn these things. If I were born in any other time, any other place, into any other religion - I would accept those things just as eagerly and honestly. Would I not? How could I not? I earned the praise of adults, the admiration of youth group peers, I could exercise my intellect in a way not too offensive for a female to do, because it was always good to learn the bible, right? I was special, smart, serious. A student of the bible, i committed HUNDREDS of verses to memory, i competed in competitions that tested my knowledge of scripture against my peers, I was dominant. It nagged at me. I would have been the best anything, the best Muslim, the best Mormon, the best Hindu, the best Orthodox Jew (especially Orthodox Jew - there are so many RULES and ways to do it BETTER), I was completely lost in the swirl of religiosity that was my life. I did Christian ballet, Christian theater, watched Christian entertainment, listened to Christian music, went to Christian summer camp, had Christian friends, was in a Christian home school group, read Christian books, did Christian mission trips, and eventually chose to go to a Christian college. Not to brag, to sound so insanely arrogant - any religion would be happy to have me. I would give your cult a great name. I’ve got the resume and CV to join any believing army, just give me my marching orders. I swallowed my Self in the belly of the whale of god. My whole life and personality were these things and activities.

then - purity culture hit. and it brought back all the female trauma. the trauma of existing as a woman who THINKS in the subculture of christianity insanity.