#so i feel like everyone's sort of forgetting that no matter how horrible everything is right now

[ribbonknot]

sometimes i feel like rn it's really understated just how bad things could be if trump wins. like, actually. i feel like it's being forgotten that despite how bad things are right now, they would surely get WORSE.

[ellecdc]

hi mother i love ur writing !!! i was just wondering if you could write something with any ship that has james in it, where they're proud of reader bc she cleaned her room? i have really bad adhd and im cleaning it rn and im pretty proud of myself :) anyways its okay if not ! i love youuu !!!

thanks for your request, lovie (and congrats on cleaning your room!!!) here's a little baby blurb for you <3

marauders x roommate!reader who cleaned her room [500 words]

CW: platonic but could be read as something else, fem!reader, hints at non-platonic feelings but nothing outward

“One second, I’ll ask.” James says before he’s knocking on your bedroom door.

You had hardly raised your head to answer before he was pushing open the door door, his knock unanswered.

“Hey angel! Sirius and Remus are wondering if we want them to pick up- OH MY GOD!” He cut himself off, shouting as he looked around your room in…horror?

No, he was looking around your room in shock.

“What!?” You could hear Sirius shout from the other end of the line; a conversation that James had seemingly abandoned as he stared around your space. 

“What did you do?” James asked you breathlessly; finally moving his disbelieving stare from your belongings to yourself.

You suddenly felt horribly aware of yourself. You’d been cleaning all day; you had moved every piece of furniture and hoovered underneath and behind them, you had sorted out your closet and dresser, and you had finally organised the things that you had stashed under your bed to ‘deal with later’.

All this to say: you were sweaty, likely dirty, and you were sure your hair was in a right state.

“James what the hell is going on!? Is everything okay!?” Sirius’ muffled voice shouted from James’ phone. 

“James, you’re giving Sirius a fright.” You chided instead of drawing more attention to yourself.

James seemed to remember himself at that and brought the phone back up to his ear. “Sorry, sorry. What was that, Pads?”

Sirius’ response was quieter than before, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was still worked up.

“No, no. Sorry, everyone is fine. It’s just…bloody hell Pads, she cleaned her room!”

Another hot flash of embarrassment surged through you.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You mumbled as you folded your last shirt.

“Of course it wasn’t, angel. That’s not what I meant.” James offered; significantly softening at your worried expression. “I just know this had been on your list for a long while, and I also know how fucking hard this must have been.”

You hardly had a moment to wave him off before you heard Sirius shout “we want to see!” from the other end of the line.

Protests meeting deaf ears - because it apparently didn’t matter that they’d be home in a measly half hour - James was quickly turning the call into a facetime and pointing the camera around your room.

“Oh my god!” Sirius echoed James’ earlier sentiments. 

“It looks great, dovey!” Remus chimed in. “You must have been in there all day!”

“It looks amazing.” James agreed quickly, bending over to survey under your bed. “Think you can do mine next?”

“Prongs!” Remus was quick to admonish. “No, she’s done quite enough for the day I’d say.”

“Forget I asked anything Prongs; we are getting pizza and we are celebrating.” Sirius decided. 

“We don’t need to celebrate the fact that I cleaned my room, you sods.” You scolded.

“Oi.” Sirius called with faux severity. “Let us celebrate our sweet girl if we so please.”

“We should get a cake, too.” You heard him add as he and James ended the call.

“It looks really good, angel.” James repeated; no longer looking around your room in awe, but rather at you with a peculiarly soft expression. 

“Thank you Jamie.” 

James spent a moment longer smiling at you before he was turning to leave your room. “I’ll set up the living room for us. What movie do you want to watch? Don’t answer that; I already know!”

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel ||Alastor X Reader||Rest A Little My Dear

It's tiring and feeling burnt out but the stack of thoughts, longing and paperwork won't let you sleep.

It had been approximately two years since that horrible night, but you're not exactly sure how time works in hell, or how many days make a year, or how many days make a month.

You asked some of your other friends as well Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel they just shrugged, although Vaggie did ask you the reason. Then looking at you she figured it,

"Oh, I see... you're still hoping huh?" Vaggie didn't want to tell it, but she thought you were hoping for something meaningless.

"Come now my dear, it's not healthy for you to be locked up in your bedroom the whole day." Alastor reminded, dragging you outside.

To cure you of your homesickness he would make the food you used to enjoy, love, and fight with your sibling for.

Alastor could have handled that, but he knew the stages of acceptance involved Denial, Turmoil, more denial, romanticizing the impossible, and then initial acceptance.

It was a while since you landed here, and the moment he had seen you he knew you could be a more hopeless case than Charlie and a complete misfits of the misfits.

"Here at least come to one of the most pleasant cities of this miserable hell!" Alastor said grinning,

Two weeks passed, And Alastor had gone out for 'Urgent matters' he thought you were to lighthearted to understand or even know about it.

That night he was pleasantly surprised to see you wrapped up with a blanket on your bed, you were taking his advice and calming down a little.

He sat by the bedside, "I know my dear, it's painful. As painful as missing my mother. You know I'd give anything to see her once again." Alastor then looked at you, "Now my dear, when I go, I hope you will help me run this hotel and not stay cooped up here. It's definitely not healthy, well I guess this is hell. Now I better get going. My dear."

"Ah there you are Charlie... why not help me out a little you see my darling Y/n will probably be all delusional again, dreaming, drifting, and mindlessly browsing all sorts of information in those content books of hers, and that picture box thing, so make sure she doesn't get a little to delusional okay?"

But Charlie knew your stubbornness passes the gates of hell and to the doors of heaven, you avoided everyone, anything to study, you studied for hours, without Alastor things got really hellish.

One day in your room staring out to the red skies, Niffty called out to you,

"So why are you such a boring person huh? Why are you not a bad girl?"

"That's because she doesn't belong here Nifftly." Charlie's soft voice called out, she then took your hand, "I know it's hard for you, to have left everyone behind, I know your longing to pick up where you left, you want to forget you are trapped in hell. I can't promise your departure back to Earth, I know your scared, but we'll be right by your side."

You laughed with tears, "You sang and told me this, you and Alastor I'll never know the secrets behind your dazzling smiles, and those songs you both sing so naturally. Thanks."

Alastor was up against the wall eavesdropping is a rude word, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. He was too respectful to eavesdrop.

An hour later, again you think because you don't know how time worked in hell.

"Ah my dear! I see your less delusional than before!" Alastor came smiling, he was really relieved you were smiling.

He had never made a deal with you, because he hoped that one day he could see you truly happy when you return to Earth happily, and when you die, he knows he would most likely never see you again and now he will have two people to give up everything for to just see them once again.

After everyone left, you took Alastor's hand, "I see your in a much better mood!" Alastor commented, "It's thanks to you."

"Oh no my dear, Just smile and one more thing just rest a little more my dear."

And smile you did, the most purest one in his eyes.

[starryevermore]

begging for you to take my hand ✧ leo campo

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: leo campo requests?? did i read that right because yes please!! if you’d like to write something angsty with reader being in love with Leo but Leo loves Nikki? it can or cannot have a happy ending, whichever you feel like (although i am a sucker for happy endings hehe) but yeah and it can be anything you like 

honestly anything with Leo you wish to write would be a great read 💙 thank you and no pressure, only if you’d like to  - @sunshine-on-my-mind

pairing: leo campo x fem!reader 

summary: you loved leo all your life, but he never spared you a second glance. when he finally starts to notice you, his attention is taken just as quickly. you’re ready to forget anything ever happened, but he can’t let you go. 

word count: 5,717

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, pining, unrequited love (or so you think), insecurities, miscommunication, misunderstanding, love confession, ending is a little rushed, not proofread

Leo Campo was an easy man to love. What was hard, was not being the only person vying for his attention. And for most of your life, the person who won his attention was none other than Nikki Angioli. You understood, of course. Nikki was everything you weren’t. Beautiful, charismatic, smart as a whip. It was easy for Leo to love her.Whenever you were with Leo and Nikki, it felt like you were a third wheel. After all, they were practically born to be best friends. Their parents worked together, they got to see each other pretty much every hour of every day. Meanwhile, you were just someone they sort of…Well, not tolerated. It was more than that. You were sure they considered you to be a friend. But you were never someone they really sought out. You were there, and therefore you were their friend. 

It’s just…it’s hard to be part of a trio. No matter how easy Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made it look, it was fucking hard. There was always, always, always someone left out. And that someone was almost always, probably 99.9999% of the time…You. You weren’t sure that Leo and Nikki meant to leave you out, but it always tended to happy. Perhaps it was because their families worked together for so long, perhaps it was because they were practically branded as besties ever since their mothers got pregnant, perhaps it was because they were twin flames or some cheesy shit like that. Whatever it was, you knew that you could easily fall to the wayside and neither of them would probably notice. 

In a lot of ways, they didn’t. 

It felt like every time something incredible happened to you, something awful would happen to either Leo or Nikki and all of the attention would be focused on making sure they were okay. If, Heaven forbid, something horrible happened to you, something would great happen to them and how dare you bring down the mood by talking about your struggles. Which—don’t get you wrong—it was absolutely valid to lend Leo and Nikki a shoulder to cry on or celebrate with them. It’s just, they so rarely kept the same energy for you.  

The friendship fell apart quite easily. Between the rivalry between their fathers that forced Leo and Nikki apart and you taking on more responsibility at the bakery when your mother died, everyone drifted apart. You were still friendly when you saw them at school or around the neighborhood, and so were they, but it was different. It wasn’t the same, and you weren’t sure it ever would be. As you all got older, the distance grew even greater. Leo took on jobs at both his father’s pizza shop and at Luigi’s. Nikki moved to London to go to cooking school. And you…You stayed where you had been for years, working at your mother’s bakery, hoping that one day you might catch Leo’s eye. 

Then, one day, it felt like the stars had aligned and all your wishes had come true. 

You were about to close up the bakery for the night when the jingle of the bell above the door alerted you to the last minute customer. You barely looked up from your sweeping, shouting out, “We’re closed! Come back tomorrow!”

“Ah, you’re really gonna turn your best friend away?”

The broom nearly fell from your hands. You tightened your grip on it as you looked up to see the beautiful blue eyes you always dreamed of. (God, this was pathetic, even for a hopeless romantic.) You swallowed hard. “Would you keep Luigi’s open longer just for one customer?”

“If it was for a pretty girl, I might.”

Was that supposed to be directed at you? Was he calling you a pretty girl? Or was Leo just being quippy? Fuck. Just being around the man made you an anxious teenager all over again. 

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You tried to not make it obvious the effect he had on you, but you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. “I suppose you’re pretty enough. What’dya need?”

“Ma’s birthday is coming up. I was hoping I could order a cake for her?” Leo asked, leaning against the glass case. “She always loved your cakes.”

You propped the broom against the wall and grabbed your order sheet and a pen. “Sure thing. Anything specific?”

Leo shrugged. “Nah, she’ll lover anything you make her. You can have total creative control.”

You smiled a little, jotting down a few ideas on the paper. “And when do you need this by?”

Leo was quiet. Which scared you, because Leo is never quiet. When you glanced up at him, he had a pink tint on his cheeks and he was trying to avoid your gaze. 

“Leo…When do you need the cake by?” you repeated.

“Tomorrow? Morning?”

You gasped. Without thinking, you threw your pen at him. Your aim was terrible, so it soared straight passed his head became hitting the ground. But Leo flinched nonetheless, throwing his arms up to shield himself from anything else you might throw at him. “You’re a terrible son!” you said. 

“I know! I know!” Leo slowly lowered his arms, trying to gauge if you were going to throw anything again. “I just got busy, ya know? Between Pa’s restaurant, and bartending, and coaching the kids’ soccer team, I lost track of time!”

“It took you all of five seconds to place the order! How hard would it have been to just call? Hell, you could’ve submitted an order on my fucking website!”

“I know!” Leo fully lowered his arms, pouting at you. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me.”

You were caught between wanting to yell at him more—because what did that mean? he was the one who stopped talking to you!—and wanting to melt into a puddle of goo. Instead, you found the happy medium of letting out a sigh. You said, “Leo, you know I always love hearing from you.”

Leo perked up a little. “So you’ll make the cake?”

“Only because it’s for your ma,” you said. “And you’ll be charged a rush fee.”

“Deal!”

“And you get your pretty ass in the back and help me make it, so I can actually get home at a half decent time.”

A smirk crossed Leo’s face. He leaned back over the case. “You think my ass is pretty?”

Fuck, you hadn’t meant to say that. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. How do you recover from this?

“You, me, and the rest of Little Italy,” you said. A joke, it was. At least that got a chuckle from Leo. As he walked over to the other side of the case, you added, “And if you ever think about making an order the night before you need something, I have no qualms with kicking your ass.”

“Ah, but then my ass wouldn’t be pretty no more, would it? And what a shame that would be.”

“So conceited,” you said. But as he passed you to walk into the kitchen, you couldn’t help yourself from swatting at his ass. Leo yelped, his hands flying to his ass. He turned, looked at you scandalized. “Dunno, still looks pretty to me.”

“You’re awful.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Leo stares at you for a long moment. You almost begin to wonder if you took things too far. You’d hardly said more than “hi” and “can I get an amaretto sour?” over the last few years. Was this crossing a line? But finally, he offers you a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Thank you so much, again,” Leo said the next morning when he came to pick up the cake. “I owe you big time.”

You shake your head as you ring him up at the cash register. “It’s for your Ma. I’d do anything for her after all the shit we put her through when we were kids.”

“True, but you really didn’t—” Leo frowned as he looked at the total. “Hey, where’s that huge rush fee you were telling me you were going to charge me?”

You raised a brow. “Are you really complaining about paying less?”

“When I made you stay after work for hours? Hell yeah I am. Charge me like anyone else!” Leo argued. 

“Not gonna happen. I already made you pay by forcing you to help me and listen to my Taylor Swift playlist the entire time.”

“Hey, I loved the Taylor Swift playlist! Now, you charge me whatever exorbitant fee you can think of right now!”

“No, no way. Consider it a gift to a friend. Or better yet, use the money you saved from not paying the fee to get your Ma a gift from me. I saw her eyeing a bottle of wine the other day. I could point the bottle out to you—”

Leo leaned over the glass case, narrowing his eyes at you. “Fine. I’ll let you waive the fee and buy Ma some wine. But only if you agree to let me treat you to dinner tomorrow night.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Consider it one,” he said. His face softens a little as he adds, “And maybe consider it an apology? For me being a shitty friend?”

You reached across the counter and patted Leo’s cheek. “For you? Of course.”

A grin stretched across the face. “Great. Come over to my place tomorrow around five?”

“It’s a date.”

Leo’s eyes twinkled as he confirmed, “It’s a date.”

He picked up the cake and left the store, but before shooting you a goofy smile and waved. You laughed, waving back. You were so engrossed with watching him jog across the street to his father’s restaurant that you didn’t notice Gabbie, your best cake decorator, sneak up beside you. 

“A date, huh?” she echoed.

You jumped. How did you not see her before? Had you been that lost in Leo’s pretty blue eyes? Trying to play it nonchalant, you shrugged. “I don’t think he meant it that way.”

She raised a brow. “Are we talking about the same man? Because, lemme tell you, I don’t think he’s ever looked that mesmerized with a girl before.”

Gabbie never saw him with Nikki, you wanted to say. But, instead, you said, “He just feels bad because I didn’t make him pay the rush fee after he ordered a cake last night. He just feels like he owes a debt. Italian men and their pride, ya know?”

“That wasn’t pride and you know it, girlie. Look, if you wanna delude yourself, fine. But I’m telling you, there’s something there.”

What Gabbie didn’t know about you was, you were the queen of delusion. You spend practically your entire childhood deluding yourself with the idea that one day Leo would see you for the woman you are, to realize that you were his soulmate. And you got your heart broke in the long run because of it. You weren’t about to let yourself get hurt again. Leo was not going to break your heart. You wouldn’t let him. 

“We’re just friends. That’s all.”

Gabbie eyed you, trying to see if there would be a crack in your resolve. “Whatever you say.”

When you came in to open the bakery the next day, you knew something was wrong. Mostly because Gabbie was standing at the door, waiting for you, with her arms crossed and a nasty look on her face. As you unlocked the door, you eyed her, trying to figure what was the source of her frustration. But all she did was turn her glare to the pizza shops across the street. And, well…Whatever that was about wasn’t good. 

You were caught between addressing the issue and waiting for her to finally say what was on her mind. You leaned toward waiting, so you began running through all of the opening tasks. Gabbie would open up soon enough. She just liked to stew in her anger before she vented. So, waiting was the best option. If you pushed, she would only get more annoyed. 

Finally, she asked, “You wanna know what I heard from Bella?”

You looked in her direction as you wipe down the counter. “Probably some rumor that could swing either way in its truthfulness.”

Gabbie huffed. “Don’t make jokes right now. This is serious!”

A frown settled on your face as you gave her your full attention. “What’d she tell you?”

“Nikki’s back in town,” Gabbie said as she placed a tray of cookies in the case. 

“Oh?”

You wanted to read into it. You really, really did. But you forced yourself to stamp down your assumptions, your worries. That part of you was probably being irrational, anyways. All Gabbie said was that Nikki was back and that could mean anything—

“Rumor has it she and Leo went back to his apartment last night,” she continued. She leaned in, her eyebrows raised. “After getting drunk together and playing soccer in the rain.” Her face screwed up like she was sucking on a Lemonhead. “Isn’t that romantic?”

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach. Of course. Of course he would take her back to his place. Why wouldn’t he? They were practically destined to be together. And with the family rivalry? It was a star-crossed lovers situation if you’d ever seen one. 

You swallowed your hurt. “So romantic.”

“So romantic I could kill him, you know,” Gabbie said. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain in your chest. “Don’t. I’m sure it wasn’t what it…I’m sure he…Fuck, I don’t know. But don’t kill him, okay? Not until I get a chance to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t get to make you feel like he’s finally seen you for the incredible woman you are and then welcome her into his bed the second she rolls into town!” Gabbie argued. 

“He just said he was making me dinner to make off a debt. And I really don’t think he meant anything when I said it’s a date. Really, it would be my fault for reading into it—”

“I’m going over there right now to give a piece of my mind—”

You grabbed Gabbie by the elbow, stopping her on her warpath. “Don’t. Please.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. Gabbie looked through the window at the restaurants across the street. If looks could kill, she would probably have exploded those buildings. “You’re too good for him, you know.”

But not good enough, you wanted to say. 

The entire day, the questions of what could be happening between Leo and Nikki ate at you. Was there something between them? Were they finally acting on the tension that existed between them for all those years? Had you let your hopes get too high when Leo promised your dinner? If you went to his apartment, would you be left with only pain and heartache? 

Though Gabbie was harboring all of your anger for you, she did her best to try to distract you. To not let your mind wander too far. But it was all for naught. Because, when you left the bakery, all you wanted to do was run home and forget all of this happened. If you ignored this, if you pretended you forgot, you could avoid all of the hurt. You wouldn’t be giving Leo the power to break your heart. And, in some ways, running away made you weak, but at least it would keep you whole. 

Nothing could have prepared you to see Nikki standing out when you reached Leo’s apartment. Had Leo forgotten that he had made plans with you? Were you that replaceable? You took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady your nerves, and walked up, hitting the buzzer for Leo’s apartment. 

Nikki looked at you, her brows furrowed together. She almost looked like she had something snarky she wanted to say before she realized who you were. “Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“That’s what happens you put an ocean between us,” you teased. You hoped you sounded lighthearted. You hoped bitterness didn’t creep into your voice. 

If it did, Nikki didn’t give any indication. She held a hand up in defense. “Hey, you got me there. What’re you doing here?”

You nod at the door. “Leo promised to make me dinner.”

Nikki’s face drops. “Oh, shit. Are you two—”

“He just owed me, is all,” you are quick to add. “He ordered a cake for his Ma after I already closed for the day, and he needed it the next morning. I wouldn’t charge him the rush fee, so he insisted he make me dinner as a repayment.”

“Italian men and their pride,” she laughed. She glanced up at Leo’s apartment. “So, is he…?”

“Seeing anyone? Nah, he loves the single life too much for that,” you said. “What about you? What’re you doing here?”

Nikki raised the soccer ball she had had tucked under her arm. “I just came to see if he wanted to play a game or two. We tried last night, but it was pouring the rain and we were drunk, so not really a fair competition. Gotta see if I can still kick his ass or not, ya know?”

You laughed. “I’m sure you could. His pride gets to him, so he’s still easy to knock down a peg or two.”

“Right?” Nikki’s face dropped. “Oh, shit. I can go? Because you already have plans with him and all—”

Before you could say anything, the door swung open. Yours and Nikki’s head snapped to look at him. Leo looked between the two of you, as if this perhaps was his worst nightmare. His gaze settled on Nikki first. “Hey!”

Nikki smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. You could see why Leo always had a thing for her. “Hey! I just came to see if you wanted to play a few rounds?”

Leo smiled, too. A part of you wished he would smile at you like that. But that was just the schoolgirl crush talking. It was never something that could actually happen. Not when his heart still sang for Nikki, even after all these years. “Yeah, I’d love to. Let me go get my shoes—” He paused, his head snapping toward you. “Wait. Actually, I already—”

“We can have dinner another time,” you said, already turning to walk away. “Not every day your best friend comes back to town, right? You can just, like, stop by the bakery when you get a chance and we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“Wait—”

“It’s no big deal, really—” You began to walk away, waving goodbye. “Nikki, make sure you get him some ice packs, yeah? For when you bruise his ego?”

Nikki let out a laugh, waving back at you. “Will do.”

You nearly made your escape when you heard Leo mutter something to Nikki. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you heard him chase after you. Though you wanted to turn, to see if he was choosing you, you kept going. You weren’t going to let him break your heart. But damn him. Damn him and his long legs and his long stride. 

Leo quickly overtook you, stopping in front of you, his hands held out in front of him like he was taming a velociraptor in Jurassic World. “Woah, woah. Stop, hey.”

You looked back at Nikki, who was staring at the two of you. “Go, Leo. I’m fine.”

“No, I promised you—”

“It’s Nikki, Leo. You could never say no to her before. I wouldn’t expect you to say no to her now.”

Leo’s brows furrowed together. He almost looked confused. But, how could he be? Was he really so oblivious to how he preferred Nikki over you for all those years? Did he forget in the few minutes that had passed that he was ready to ditch dinner with you to play soccer with her? Did he think you hadn’t noticed all of that? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious you’re into her. I’m not going to get between that.”

“There’s nothing going on between Nikki and I.”

You raised a brow. Seriously? Was he really going to route? Latching onto a technicality—that they weren’t really together? “But you want there to be. I mean, you have been head over heels for her since we were kids.”

“That’s not true!” Leo almost sounded desperate, like he couldn’t believe you were saying all of this. Was he this in denial about his feelings?

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah? Then how come for years you chose to be with her over me? At every field trip, you wanted to be her buddy. For every group project, you chose her. How many times did you two run off without me? Leo, you didn’t even show up after my mother’s funeral because you spent the week helping Nikki look for her lost cat—”

“That’s not fair—”

“Whenever that stupid feud between your families started and you two couldn’t be friends anymore, you stopped hanging out with me. I wasn’t even fucking surprised by it, you know? And that maybe hurt more than you not being my friend anymore. Because you always meant more to me than I did to you. You haven’t spoken to me in years, and you only did because you needed something for your Ma. I’m not your first pick, and that’s okay. But what isn’t okay is you trying to rewrite history when you don’t like being confronted with the reality.”

Leo said your name softly. He reached for you, but you took a step back. You wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him hurt you. 

You took a breath. “Go, have fun with Nikki. Forget you even promised me dinner, okay? Consider your debt forgiven.”

Leo tried to reach for you again, but you stepped around him. He turned to look at you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You mean more to me than you think.”

“But not more than her.” You took another breath. You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. It took everything in you to not cry. Because you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not in front of him. “Let’s just go back to the way things used to be, yeah?”

“I don’t want to—”

“But I do. I won’t play second fiddle anymore. I won’t let myself be hurt anymore.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“And that might be the worst part.” 

You walked away, pieces of your heart leaving a path between you and him. If this was a movie, if this was a silly little romance novel, Leo might have been standing there, trying to collect the pieces so he might put your heart back together again. But, when you were turning a corner, you spared a glance back at him.

He was walking with Nikki, an arm around her shoulders. 

The one thing about Leo was, he listened. So when you told him you wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, you knew he would abide by that wish. And he did. The most you ever saw of Leo was when you glanced out the bakery window and happened to catch him coming in or leaving his father’s restaurant, or when you ordered something at Luigi’s whenever Gabbie managed to drag you out. And when you did see him, you would never meet his gaze. You didn’t want to be faced with his hurt, or, worse, his indifference. It was better that you forgot the brief glimmer of hope that Leo liked you in the same way you liked him. 

Gabbie would tell you that he was always looking your way, but you felt like she was only trying to make you feel better. Why would Leo bother himself with you? He finally had everything he could have wanted. It didn’t matter that you were not a part of his life, because it had never mattered that you were not a part of his life. If it had mattered, then how could Leo have spent all these years not paying you any mind? Little Italy was little. For Leo to avoid you, he would have had to gone out of his way to do so. 

Sometimes, though, when you were in your apartment, you’d look out the window and imagine that Leo was out there, about to confess his love for you like this was one of those cheesy rom coms you held so dearly. He was never there.

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little surprised at how much it hurt. You had been no stranger to Leo’s absence before. So why did it feel like he had ripped out your heart and stomped it? (Damn him. Damn him for giving you a glimmer of hope.)

“Eat.”

Gabbie dropped a plate in front of you on the coffee table. You eyed the slice of pizza, your nose wrinkling. As you pushed the plate away, you grumbled, “Seriously? You break into my home and put pizza in front of you?”

“It’s from across town. Not even a pizzeria in Little Italy. It’s, like, the ultimate form of rebellion.” Gabbie sat next to your curled up body on the couch and reached out to rub your back. “You need to eat something besides the scraps at the bakery. I mean, it’s not even something healthy, so you can be in your eat-junk-and-cry spiral.”

“I would rather just be sad.”

“You can be sad and eat.”

“And I haven’t been crying.”

Gabbie raised a brow. She didn’t look like she believed you. You could hardly blame her. Ever since that day, you had been elbows deep in a shame spiral, trying to forget the hope you felt that Leo might, just finally might, like you the way you always liked him. 

“I haven’t. Really, Gabs. I just…want to watch sad movies and pretend that he never showed up at the bakery.”

“You can’t even say his name, you can admit that you’re hurt—”

Gabbie was silenced at a loud knock at your door. She looked at you, her brows furrowed together. But you had no idea who it was either. You hadn’t ordered anything on lately, you hadn’t ordered takeout, and you certainly hadn’t invited anyone over. Gabbie was only here because she had a key to your apartment. 

Who else could it be?

“Do you want me—?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself up. No, you had to see this. You had to see who had the audacity to show up. You wrapped your blanket around your shoulders a little more securely and  padded over to the door. As you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself, when another series of knocks rapped at your door. You reached for the knob, turning it slowly, and pulled the door open. 

What stood on the other side made you want to slam the door shut again. And he seemed to know you had that very thought. 

Leo reached out, sticking his hand out, stopping the door from shutting. “Please.”

Your lip quivered. Fuck. You had been holding it together so well before. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, all of those emotions you were trying your damned hardest to ignore, were rising straight to the surface. But you couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not now. 

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Leo stepped closer to you, stepping into the threshold of your apartment. Part of you wanted to push him out, kick and scream, tell him that he didn’t have the right to force himself into your life, to pick you up and act like your friend when it was convenient to him. That you were a person, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But another part of you, the part that still hoped for good things, wanted to pretend this was your rom com moment where the guy makes a grand love confession that sparks the happily ever after. 

“You did. And I tried, I really did. But I missed you.” He tried to reach out for you, but you jumped out of the way. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know that doesn’t make this any better, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to get this right.”

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt the tears start to prick. “You’re just saying this because you feel bad. You don’t…Look, just go be with Nikki. Don’t feel like you have to grovel or whatever for me. I’m fine. I’m a big girl.”

When you opened your eyes again, Leo looked like he might cry himself. But…That didn’t make anything. Why would he get emotional over this? He was the one breaking your heart? “Nikki isn’t the one I want. I-I don’t know that she ever was.”

A frown settled on your face. That…No, that didn’t make any sense. Nikki had always been the one he gravitated towards. Nikki was the one he always chose. You were just there. “I don’t understand.”

Leo took a step closer to you. This time, you didn’t move away. Not when he stood so close that you could feel his breath fan across your face. Not when he cradled your face in his hands. Not when his thumbs brushed away the tears that managed to fall. “I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

“B-But Nikki—“

“What about her?” Leo took a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. “I thought, once, that she was who I wanted. But, I realized that I was lying to myself. Trying to trick myself into thinking I liked her because I thought she was someone I could be with. I, I never thought I was good enough for you. You’re a fucking angel, and all I’ve ever been is a little shit. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that you’d like me back.”

You sniffled. “You made me feel like you didn’t give a shit about me, Leo. You followed Nikki around like a puppy, and the second she left for London, it’s like you were finally free of me. Like you didn’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to talk to you. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true. When Nikki was around, she was like a buffer. If I fucked up, she made sure things weren’t weird. With her gone, I was scared that I would lose you. I didn’t realize that I already was.”

You shook your head. “Then why were you going to ditch me to play soccer with her? Why, why did you take her back to your apartment the night she came back?”

Leo’s brows pinched together. “How, how did you know I—? She was drunk and she wasn’t ready to see her family yet. I offered her a place to stay. But nothing happened, I promise. She slept in my bed, I slept on the couch. That’s it.”

“And why you ditched me?”

“I was just excited to see my friend again, and I acted like a total ass. That was what I was trying to protect you from, because I knew that I would fuck up. I knew I would hurt you somehow without meaning to. I’ve been kicking myself ever since you left that day.”

You shut your eyes, leaning into his hand. You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to so bad. “What took you so long to say all of this?”

“I was trying to do what you wanted. I was scared to lose you anymore that I already had.” Leo took a breath. “Then I told Nikki what happened, and she chewed my ass out. Told me I needed to get my shit together because you weren’t going to be around forever. I don’t want to lose you. I never did.”

You wanted to argue more. You wanted to push harder. You wanted to ask more questions. Because this didn’t feel real. This was the sort of shit that only happened in movies and romance novels. This wasn’t your real life. But…He was here. And he loved you.

“Kiss me.”

Leo’s lips were on yours in a second. You could feel every ounce of desperation, of love, on his plush lips. He kissed you like a man running out of time. Like if he didn’t do this right, he would lose you. He kissed you like he was dying and you were breathing life back into him. It was everything you ever could have dreamed of. 

“Holy shit, this is better than a Hallmark movie.”

You jumped apart, your head whipping around. Shit. You forgot Gabbie was still there. She eyed Leo, like she still might kill him for hurting you. But then she smiled as he tried to hide his bright red face. 

“I think you still owe her a dinner.” Gabbie pointed to the pizza still sitting on the coffee table. “She’s starving, and refuses to eat that shit.”

Leo looked back to you, letting out a chuckle. “You want me to make you dinner?”

“Don’t let her tell you no. She hasn’t been eating anything but junk all week,” Gabbie said. 

“Gabbie!”

Leo’s brows raised. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? C’mon, let’s go back to my place and I’ll make you something nice, yeah?”

You smiled, reaching for his hand to hold. “I would like that very much.”

You quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed your keys, ready to leave, when Gabbie called out, “Hey! If you break her heart, I get to break your neck!”

“Good to know!” Leo called back. To you, he whispered, “Your friend is scary.”

“And serious about the threat,” you said. 

He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, because I’m not telling you go.”

[vonpharma]

w[h]ip wednesdaaaay

sorry for the hiatus! i finally just bit the bullet and set an alarm on my phone so i won't forget to post lol. here's a small preview from day 5 of sicktember~

Hoisting his unconscious sister out of the office stairwell was not exactly how Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth pictured his day going.

In his time alive he’d seen quite a few strange things go down in that stairwell. It was practically a second home to him, after all—twelve flights up, twelve flights down, it made nearly everyone cringe when he’d tell them how much of his day was spent hiking to and from his high-rise office. He probably could’ve benefitted from relocating, but it was honestly very convenient, getting all his cardio in before even his morning cup of tea. 

Yes, he’d seen a lot of things going on in that stairwell. Highly dramatic personal phone calls. Potentially shady dealings involving discontinued snacks from the vending machine. Overworked interns sneaking away for naps. Larry, once. 

One thing Miles had never seen upon these stairs, though, was Franziska. 

When they were children, it was a tradition, of sorts. They’d arrive in front of the foggy elevator doors—it didn’t matter where they were—and Miles would instinctively clench his fists, making the best attempts to muster all his courage. Back then, he was small, and he felt even smaller standing poised before the massive shape of them, his murky reflection refusing to crystallize in tandem with his nerve. Franziska, ever the little empath, would grab his hand tight in hers and drag him to the stairs. After tapping her foot performatively for a few seconds and complaining of how long the elevator took to arrive, we might as well use them with the foolishly slow descent of that foolishly inferior contraption.

Of course, children grow up. Miles never had a childhood to grow out of, but Franziska always did the most to sprint leaps and bounds ahead of him. At some point in their adolescence, she had stopped taking the stairs with him. There were no hard feelings, of course—but she had places to be and was more often than not in stilettos and pencil skirts. I’ll meet you at the top, she’d always say, and then grimace at him with her face all red when he (always, effortlessly, without breaking a sweat) arrived at their destination first.

The red on her face is a different shade, this time. A far less fortunate one, it would seem. Despite everything, Franziska is there in the stairwell with him once more. Only this time, she is not dragging him lovingly up the incline, but holding white-knuckle onto the railing as she makes her best attempt to climb, knees wobbling with the effort, drenched in sweat. Miles can see her forearms through the now-transparent sheen of her blouse, and despite how she’s perspiring, the poor girl is shaking like a leaf.

He stops there, at the top of the grouping of stairs that she’s making her best attempt to scale. Rigid, brow furrowed in concern, mouth firm. 

“Franziska?” says Miles. “Are you… quite alright?”

Her head, previously dipped toward the floor—watching her feet, nervous that they might fail her—snaps up to face him. The way she bears her teeth is somewhere halfway between a warning and a plea for help, pained and angry all the same. For a moment his blood runs cold as he remembers the last time he’d seen that look—blood coagulating on his car upholstery, a horrible scream echoing in his ears, tear-tracks refusing to dry on his cheeks. 

Curiously, her whip is unholstered, coiled in her free hand. As if she were announcing to the world that her guard is up, don’t come near. Despite the acid-drenched sheen of her glassy eyes, she maintains her hesitation in cracking it at Miles—instead just pointing, with the leather shaking haphazardly in her hand.

“You… don’t you—don’t you dare—!”

It’s all Miles can do not to visibly cringe when he hears her voice. A truly miserable-sounding affair, like bogie wheels struggling on miscut gravel. Come to think of it, Franziska had sounded a little croaky yesterday morning when she joined him for tea, and she had taken a little more honey than usual. But she didn’t seem ill otherwise, certainly not to this extent…

Miles isn’t really sure what to do, so he just kind of stands there awkwardly, lordly above her all the same. She manages to get herself up one single step before her knees buckle entirely, and Miles is already shuffling down to meet her, his body seemingly moving all on its own. 

Franziska’s a small fire in his arms as he catches her. Every square inch of her skin is scorching hot, singing Miles’ grip even through layers upon layers of perfectly pressed ruffles. In sleep, still, the tremors take her, and she’s breathing heavy and hard through her mouth. As he’s arranging her to something resembling bridal style in his arms, he thanks his lucky stars that his sister is such a small thing, hopes she will forgive him even for thinking so. Like this, especially, she looks so much smaller than usual.

[anonzentimes]

I've kind of realized something after spending a while digging through various fic recommendations. If a fic is recommended by TVTropes, there's a high likelihood that the characterization of Nagito is gonna be pretty bad. The site's consensus on the character is pretty much a distillation of all the most shallow Reddit takes on the character. "Nagito's a static character", "He gets sexually aroused by Hope", "Hajime despises him (no we're not projecting and using him as our self-insert)", etc. etc. Oh, and can't forget to indulge the bullshit theory about him maybe having raped Monaca. Like it's almost comical just how much whoever wrote his Trope Pantheon entry clearly despised him. With Nagito being shat on to a much greater extent than other fictional characters who've done mountains worse than him (looking at you Harley Quinn).

Also that kind of goes for the various story blogs I've seen around this site. I'm struggling to think of a single one where the characterization of him didn't engage in some sort of petty bashing. Mudslinging that the people making them will defend by crying "We're just giving him REAL character development that the OVA didn't". The New Future and Survivor are some of the worst examples of this.

the moment I read reddit takes on the character in reference to Nagito you KNOW I was shaking in my boots at what horrendous things would be coming up and then you start listing the worst of the worst dirt that gets thrown on him from people who fundamentally hate or misunderstand him and it just got progressively worse like

It’s crazy how bad the mischaracterizations and arguments can be over Nagito it’s so ridiculous… I have a desire to understand most everything I love and fear mischaracterizing or misunderstanding the characters I love and seeing people be so relentlessly unforgiving mischaracterizing him is always so crazy to me Lol. I know the entire point is that there’s a misunderstanding so people usually don’t understand or aren’t self aware of it, which is the scariest part about it in my opinion, but my god it’s dreadful the things these people do and say. I’ve had people in my inbox scream that it’s not that big of a deal and it’s so annoying, like yes it matters because the character matters to people. Not to mention most of the mischaracterizations are usually rooted in some sort of ableism and homophobia it’s truly dreadful. The reason I’ve ever even gotten any traction I’m pretty sure is because apparently being decent and understanding Nagito without bashing him is something people applaud me for Lol. I don’t think I’m that special, but when there’s so many annoying people over this character and when people find someone who is not like that who can and attempts to articulate things about the complex character I think people enjoy it. Even if there’s a good amount of people who understand his character the amount that bash on him, are homophobic towards him, ableist towards him, and mischaracterize him, is just so extremely disgusting that it feels offensive. There is no reason that stupid “theory” about Monaca should ever exist other than disgusting filthy minds who should rethink about their place in this world. I hate them very much. I’m glad I can provide something good for him, at least hopefully, because he means so much to me. I wish everyone could understand him because the misunderstandings he has are so disgustingly extreme and horrible. I understand that he is a complex character but I will NEVER tolerate stupidly horrendous reddit takes throwing dirt on him ever.

[gayspock]

OK shutting up

idont care i just don't want tk have to make it through today or through tomorrow or through any day. It's just so fucking pointless and I just fucking don't fuckin care. i just want it all to stop and that's all I fucking want and I don't fucking want anything else other than that and I thijnk I'm nothing but that and I dint fucking know what else there is and don't fucking care and I don't really fucking don't. I think there's always that sort of resentment that just keeps building like I fucking can't fucking stand anyone and everyone else any more cbut man 2hats the point. What's the point of any of it. It's the same cuz no matter what I think or feel it's just. Like that's it right it's just me in my fucking vacuum that I'm taking off the edge of the cliff. and I don't know what I'm doing even fucking spiralling cuz it never matters it never means anything in the end it's just so fucking worthless it hurts so fucking bad all the fucking time it means nothing and it just rolls over and you try it and means nothing and you do nothing and it means nothing I feel so fucking crazy I just don't fucking care ajd that doesn't matter either fucking insanity I feel fucking insaneand. I don't know how other people do it I don't know. How everyone else just. Can live some life where there's any part of it that matters and is tangible like. I mean i

tanginle too THSI stupid fuckkng haze that just fucking consumes yoy when you go so so so so fucking long without anything without anyone to talk to without anyrhing ever at all but jsut fucking g9db fucking who cares 8 don't know I don't fucking know I can't live through it 8 can't fucking do it 8 just. Its embarrassing I jsut can't get a grip that out of all the fucking shit it was to go through it all at the end I'm going to be nothing but just some fucking loser that people are going to judge for never doing enough who dug their hole and and I just want to curl up and die and I just don't want to think about it I just. I knew it was this it was always this die alone and even that you can't have that fuckingthing without it always just being a mockery like i jsut. 8 don't know I don't know I feel fucking crazy sometimesits about the fuckinglocked doors the way it leads nowhere I wish it mattered when I say I wish it mattered i mean it just anything did anything ever matter ever not even once I jsut. How how how how I just 8 don't fucking care I just. Why is it always like that why is 8t you don't ever do enough when I can't do any more and even then it's like so fucking utterly pointless why can't I just. Count for something without trying so hard and never getting anywhere why does everyone else just fit into something

somewhere and 8 don't know I don't fucking care it's. I can't fucking ever click with it I can't man and at the end of the day what what what you didn't do it try enough if you were this we would have liked you you do that you do that I can't keep doing that I don't know I JSUT. Horrible fucking envy for people who have some fucking thing to go to because everyone always says it were all lonely and they might spend a few days alone but they have friends and loved ones at the end of the day and people who will notice if they jump off the bridge and pets who they can love and touch and have had some partner or have a partner and friends who just include them without feeling like every fucking time it's like trying to fucking wrench yourself into a space that was never there for you when nobody else there has to fucking beg and try so hard please stop forgetting I exist you walk away and you disappear from everything when everyone else was just automatically assumed to count and it's just. I don't fucking know oh you disappear you disappear of course it's your fault youll never bmhave friend alike that when it's like you spend years trying too hard and it hurts worse tenfold when you're still just fucking pathetic and begging constantly for scraps of attention for people you're never even second best to and people who wouldn't give a shit even if you did talk to them in genuine you know it you've been dismissed by them ten billion times oh why don't you you know damn well wht but it doesn't matter at the end of the day because all of that was just nothing and it continues to be nothing as I felt it deep as it was and I'm right but unfortunately that's all I fucking have and I can't even have that to share I die alone fine OK what matters what counts

[scullysflannel]

alias season 3 is not even close to as good as seasons 1 and 2 (what is) but what I love is it's so MAD. from everyone else’s perspective sydney bristow came back from the dead; from sydney’s perspective, which is also ours, she woke up one day and found out two years had passed and everything was different. everyone wants her to smile and be gentle and instead she seethes. I will never ever forget the feeling of being 14 years old and expecting her to say yes of course I'm fine when vaughn came to check on her, only for her to eviscerate him and tell him she's doing horrible and by the way he was a bad boyfriend for not believing she was alive after they identified her dead body in the charred remains of her apartment. that one rewired my brain. it was better that she was barely making sense. women didn't have to be small; women could be fucked up in a way that takes up space. sydney's a brilliantly realized character in the first two seasons of alias — she's self-righteous alongside her vulnerability, and as smart as she is she gets rash and illogical whenever it gets personal — but the way she and the show keep so many balls in the air dazzles you into thinking she's always going to be able to cope this well. and then in season 3 she kind of comes back from the dead wrong. but not really back from the dead and not really wrong, because she's just keeping it real. she's being a little mean. she picks fights with her ex-boyfriend's new wife and admits "I hate her." and when her ex needs her help fixing the problems he caused, sydney stands in front of him in sunglasses with her arms crossed. cool! ALSO!!! her evil ex-boss has rehabilitated his image and is now a global humanitarian because bad men are given infinite second chances no matter how many bodies their empire is built upon. but sydney won’t forget. she literally has no memory of his rehabilitation, and neither do we, and she's not buying it, and neither are we. it’s a vacuum in the narrative. he asks her to believe he's done the work and she says no when no one else will. and isn't that how the whole world feels. 

it’s a season of almost complete isolation in the wake of this violent series of violations: her body, her mind, her home, her relationship, and now she’s even being told she should be nicer to the man who killed her fiance and her best friend. and I’m not letting the writers off the hook for one of those violations (they took her ova), but the way the season and the show are anchored in her perspective is emotionally visceral in a way that covers a few sins. when sydney was a child she was hardwired not to be brainwashed (trained by her father, one of the only men she actually gets closer to in season 3 — a violation circling back around to being the only kind of love she knows) and I think alias is sort of like that. it’s so hardwired to tell the story from sydney’s point of view that even when it isn’t totally facing the consequences of the plot (she gets one episode to cry that they took her ova) they’re still deeply felt. one thing alias always understands is the cruelty of expecting a woman to smile through her suffering, so the more she suffers the angrier the show intuitively gets. so sydney just goes around biting people’s heads off

[whumpitisthen]

here's a quick rundown on astarion: gay vampire spawn (not a vampire. like a demo version vampire. a "lesser" one but don't let him hear that) who has been kept for 200 years by his master as a slave. guy (who was an actual vampire) carved him up, tortured him and forced him to lure victims into his manor. astarion has been abused in so many ways i'd hit some sort of character limit if i listed half of them. he was only allowed to feet on rats and small vermin in the sewers. poor little meow meow astarion is now free due to [game story] reasons and seeks power and revenge -- he's an edgy fuck with a lot of swag and no moral compass. bro is a menace and loves causing problems on purpose. [slight spoiler] he will literally try to suck some of your blood like a day or two after you meet him and unless you succeed a skill check he'll just keep doing it until you die. if you resurrect yourself afterwards he'll go like "ooooh ooopsie sowwy! i wouldn't kill you if i knew you'll be back teehee can we forget about this? ;) <3 don't fucking kill me". he's such a good fucking whumpee you don't even know. it's insane. i don't want to ramble but he's almost everything i've ever wanted from a character like this in a large scale rpg. [slightly bigger spoiler] despite being the go-to "fuckable" character who everyone finds hot as hell (both in-universe and online) he's HORRIBLY traumatized by his sexual experiences from when he used to be a slave and when you romance him a good portion of his storyline revolves around trying to make him realize that he's more than just a slab of very attractive meat. he hides his feelings behind a facade of "evil tumblr sexyman-esque" mannierisms and getting to finally peel it back and see him for the poor wet cat that he is is so fucking satisfying. [an even bigger spoiler] i loved watching him cry when he finally gets to confront his former master. pristine content. there's so much more to his character (and this game in general) but if you ever need to justify spending full price on a new videogame release, there's nothing better than bg3. if i could choose one game to beam directly into the brain of each whumpblr user, it'd be this one.

Okay so i already loved him from the very little information i had about him, but this is so delicious

I saw some pics of bad scars which are always hhh and heard that he is a whumpee but i didn't know the extent and now i think ive collected a new blorbo

You are telling me he meets his old master at some point...... and he cries..... and hes all sad....... he rly was made for tumblr but especially me youre telling me he has white hair and is a vampire twink who was a slave and hurt and traumatised and he has incredible sad wet cat energy and he only has a flimsy layer of confidence and absolutely no idea what morals are. i knew i needed to know more you have to understand my knowledge of the game stopped at the bear sex scene like that is it and yet i somehow always find the most pathetic little men no matter what in any media i could not give a shit about any of the rest i will consume the entire thing just to know the exact extent of his sad little life

Also i wish i had the opportunity to even consider buying a full price new release no matter how good the game is there is no world in which id be able to pay for that. Also idk about the gameplay either it seems very story oriented roleplay and almost dating sim-ish? Not a huge fan of those in general its gotta have more gameplay than walking around and basically watching a movie, but, again. No idea about anything, maybe it has incredible gameplay and i just dont know. Dont tell me if it does itll just make ms sadder bc that would absolutely make me wanna play it myself. Its kinda funny honestly the longer i spend not knowing anything the crazier everyone seems to me both online and irl. Its like im living in a separate world, i know no one who hasn't played this fucking game fjfhskhfd

[eyesaremosaics]

This air of desperation in the city, is thick as teeming fog. Everything feels disjointed. Misplaced. All this incessant rain, washing away the grime and the glow.

Lately I am feeling frightened. Strange how little I valued my life… even just a few years ago. Now I cling to it savagely. Finding oneself wanting to live, has been a strange and frightening concept for me these last couple of years. I forget that I have a lot of trauma until something triggers it. Today, some guy was stalking the kids and I.

At first I thought I was imagining it. A man walked in and stared me straight in the eyes for a long moment. The expression on his face—gave me chills, and set me instantly on edge. It was not a friendly glance. This was an intense, unblinking stare. A sort of “I’m watching you” kind of stare. I turned away from his gaze, and tried to focus on playing mini golf with the kids. He kept following us, going out and coming back in again. Each time staring directly at me. Even the children I was with noticed this and pointed it out to me. “He’s definitely looking at you.” She said.

For over an hour this guy was staring at us, and they eventually told him to leave, but then he just stood right outside the door and stared directly at us. I became so uncomfortable, I had to tell one of the cashiers to please call security. I didn’t feel comfortable walking back to the car alone with the kids, in the dark.

When security got there, they said they had noticed him hanging around by himself. And when we walked out, he was standing right there waiting for the kids and I to leave. It was an awkward moment where we all stared. First he stared directly at me, then his eyes moved to the security guard. They made eye contact, after which he gave the security guard a little nod. After that he walked away, and left the area entirely.

I know in my gut he was waiting for me to come out with the kids, and he was going to try something. I don’t know what, but the stare…didn’t feel good. It was an eerie feeling. My spidey senses were set off almost immediately. He was all by himself, drinking and smoking constantly. He ordered 4 beers in an hour.

Is this just trauma from the assault bleeding through? Was I imagining it? But… no…The kids pointed it out too…and so did the security guards. Why does this stuff always happen to me? I feel like I’m a magnet for the criminally insane or at least severely disturbed men.

After all my horribly unhealthy relationships with men over the years…plus the childhood trauma…matched with the assault in Hawaii—I think my brain is legitimately fried, and my nerves are shot.

Nobody talks about this. Survivors are silenced by the shame they feel in sharing their stories with others. They feel that their vulnerability is a weakness. The horror of their experience… makes others uncomfortable. So they refute it. They can’t hold space for it. They repress, and deny.

Today I spoke with the prosecutor in Hawaii, looks like 20 years is what he will get for attempting to murder me. He will be very old by the time he gets out. It’s a hollow victory. Part of me wants to wash my hands of this. Part of me wants to go to trial. Sadly, this is the best guarantee I have of him going away for most of his life. With trial, he may get a lesser sentence. I know he would hurt other women if he was back on the street. No question. I couldn’t live with myself if I did nothing to ensure he was behind bars as long as possible. However.. the justice system is so broken in this country. Justice is never fully served in all the cases I’ve studied. No one really wins. It’s a dark matter. With dark, coagulated details.

I know I didn’t imagine what happened today. It was confirmed by everyone around me. Something wasn’t right. Better to be safe than sorry.

I just keep reflecting on all the scary instances I’ve had in my life….All the stalkers I’ve had… always weirded me out. Like—why? I felt like a nobody most of my life. Perhaps it was because I was unapologetically weird. Not caring what people think—is a great power. Weird attracts weird, but there is good kind of weird—and scary kind of weird. I tend to attract the latter.

How many women have this shared experience? So many I imagine. It would comfort me to hear some of your stories. How did you deal with these situations?

[boiling-potato]

Multiple servings of oc facts for my dear friend BP! >:]] hehe bon appétit!

Joarl:

Has a horrible memory. He forgets things really easily so he has little notes on him that remind him of the simplest of things. Example: On his tail, he tied a paper that labeled "cat" tightly around his tail. Even though he's not exactly a cat, he thinks he's one! (But he never remembers it anyways. And doesn't really question what he is.)

The world he's in is like a dream. Nothing makes sense there. They have no concept of time there, trees somehow talks and the ground may even trick you into thinking its swallowing you whole.

To Joarl, everything is normal in there! It's his home and he feels comfortable in it!

If you stare too long into his eyes, you may just be put into a trance with how his eyes are a constant spiral that moves inwards.

His nose makes funny little noises hehe,, If you boop it, it'll have a squeaky sound. And he also can have control over what sounds it wishes to emit!

Joarl is a stubborn person,,,he isn't easily swayed by other's opinions and once he puts his mind into something, he will accomplish it no matter what.

He's extremely cheerful all the time, always smiling and humming a tune that's all too familiar to him yet whenever he's asked on what the tune is, he replies; "hmm?? What tune?" He forgets immediately and doesn't truly understand :,))

His Lore:

The world Joarl is in isn't real. Of course it isn't, but that isn't the point-

Joarl is actually a normal boy, with normal eyes and everything. But he doesn't know that. He's actually in a coma of some sort.

He doesn't know that his fathers are still waiting for his in real life.

He believes that he's truly a "cat" like creature and this is the life he lives.

Actually, all time is "paused" in the real world for him. Basically, it's almost as if he doesn't exist anymore there, the memory of him is slowly fading away the more time he spend in his dream like state. And sooner or later, he'll just be stuck in that dream world, never to be known again in the real world.

Zalgo:

His parents has high expectations for him, like extremely high- but he doesn't talk much about them. Be refuses to acknowledge their existence and would much rather be content with just living his own life. So if someone brings up his family issues, he'd get much more quieter than usual and may even be snappy towards said person.

He enjoys spending time with Lesley. She the only person that actually doesn't bother with his past and she's fun to be around. He protects her with his life if anyone picks on her as well. I mean, he technically has the actual power to rid of them anyways--

Takes really good care of his hair. Uses those really expensive shampoo and stuff so it stays clean and fluffy.

He's the king of their realm and mostly is feared by all,,, almost everyone.. because he has an "enemy" called Lucifer that basically annoys him everyday. He finds him irritating and tries everything everyday to avoid him.

Fun facts;

I actually created their world to be comedy-- So nothing is too violent, angst and stuff. It's just about their everyday life hehe

Only some parts are more serious eg; Zalgo's past, Lesley's past etc etc,,,

Celtic:

He's not what other people think of him as; Cold, intimidating, heartless. He's actually the opposite. Sure He's quiet and monotonous but in reality, he's just a really oblivious guy. He's introverted so he doesn't speak much as well, thus keeping to himself.

Because of how oblivious he is, he sometimes makes offensive remarks on his teammates-- then he gets confused when they are upset with him-

He puts alot of pressure on himself. (Although not as much as Zion) but still it's alot. He takes it upon himself to be the leader and the keep the team safe.

He always talks about a dragon. Some sort of dragon he once saw, however, everytime he describes the dragon, he makes it seem as if everyone had wronged the dragon like they had wronged him.

He hates showing vulnerability.

His Lore:

He lost someone close to him. It was a girl, someone who he swore he would protect. Before he met the group

He was actually the lone wolf at first. He refused to have anyone with him, too afraid of losing anyone else. Then he met Vince, he was too pitiful that he decided to stick with him and protect him.

The girl that he lost was due to a battle. He saw her get shot with an arrow through her chest, and before he could force a healing potion down her throat she had stopped him and just smiled at him.

Everyone has 3 hearts. If you lose your last one, your dead, gone from the world and put into an endless slumber.

The girl knew she wouldn't win the battle, so she decided to give her last heart to Celtic, telling him to live on for her.

So now, Celtic has 3 normal red hearts and a shiny purple heart. Because the girl was known to like purple!!

He and the girl has no attraction to each other, it was purely friendship and a very strong trust with each other :,)

,,,I hope this isn't too much <,3!

I think I like Celtic (⁠ーwー⁠゛⁠)

Heheh!! Anyway!! This are all so interesting!! Joarl kinda reminds me of Trickster!! But his world is her point of view! She's cuckoo, as you can tell so I guess when she enters Joarl's world it would be also normal to her!! Kinda want to draw her with him now! (⁠✿⁠^w^⁠)

Ack!!! Joarl's lore is so freaking interesting!!!! Maybe because It reminds me of the milkshake mansion!! I'll post about it on why how that is! But anyway thank you so much for this amazing meal Ace!! Goodness it's soooo many but!! I ain't complaining!!! I enjoyed reading every single one of it!!!

And Jesus Celtic also has a friend!??! When is she going to be introduced?? I know she's dead but I'm just sooo curious!!! Heh I just kinda want to see what she looks like... Goodness poor him... ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

And lastly Zalgo.... Not much can be said other than having this ungodly urge to mess up his hair!! XDDD

Please feel free to send more!!! (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)✨✨✨

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

DAMN I REALLY FORGOT TO MENTION MY C!PRIME DREAM LAST NIGHT

tws: abuse, body horror, manipulation, murder, stalking, obsession and possessive behaviour, restraints, imprisonment

basically, it was a fantasy au. l’manberg was like a revolution or maybe an opposing kingdom to the dsmp? not 100% sure. but they lost and everyone was captured. c!fundy was spared because he was only very young, like eight or so, and obviously c!Eret did the betrayal thing and was fine, but everyone else was imprisoned and slated for execution (including c!jack and c!niki).

so, c!dream was the king/emperor/whatever, and he gave c!wilbur an offer. he’d spare another member of the revolution, but only one. the rest would be executed as planned. with c!fundy safe, c!wilbur chooses c!tommy in a heartbeat, but c!tommy is horrified, not wanting to live without c!wilbur and c!tubbo, but they’re dragged back into their cells and he’s left there.

c!tommy’s still a prisoner, and for some reason he’s restrained even heavier than anyone else, but he lives in luxury. creepily enough, it seems like whoever designed the cell he’s in now knew everything he liked and disliked, despite the fact they had no way of knowing that and even if they did they shouldn’t have known it’d be c!tommy who survives.

so, y’know how i mentioned this was a fantasy au? most characters were human, and c!clingy and c!fundy were beastmen (c!tommy was a raccoon, c!tubbo was a sheep, c!fundy was a fox), but c!Eret and c!Dream were both… something far more ancient. they might have been dreamons I’m not 100% sure? but they had fangs and feathery wings and big elaborate horns and stuff and they were immortal. and they could turn others into their species. I think you’re picking up where i’m going with this.

so, c!dream visits every day, and he’s both weirdly nice but also bluntly honest- he knew c!wilbur would pick c!tommy and organised the situation for that specifically (he refuses to say why, saying it’s more fun if c!tommy figures it out on his own), he has no plans on sparing anyone else no matter what, and he’s not ever going to let c!tommy go because he knows he’s stubborn and will want revenge. so c!tommy’s never really alone. he even has a bell he can use to ring for servants to request whatever he wants, except for any sort of freedom. if c!tommy forgets that everyone he knows and loves is going to be executed and is probably being tortured right now, it’s almost easy to pretend it’s not horrible.

and then the agony starts.

first, it’s days of splitting headaches, and flashes of blindness. then something sharp breaks through his skull and his eyes burn as their colours and shape shift. his old teeth fall out and razor sharp fangs break through his gums. the skin on his hands and feet harden and his bones shift painfully, leaving talons. his back is torn apart as it’s broken apart by the sprouting of wings, and it feels like his bones are melting as they hollow out to allow him flight.

and it’s not just his body, it’s his mind. first, it’s a craving for raw meat. then, it’s the overwhelming enhance of senses, and the dizzying newness of being able to sense magic itself leaving him bedridden and sick. he starts craving for stranger things he can’t describe too, magic itself and souls and emotions to feed on. his emotions feel so much stronger, even harder to control. and what he hates most of all is the instinctual sense of comfort he starts feeling around c!dream, the trust and affection forced into his head like some sick imitation of how he felt around c!wilbur.

c!dream himself is ecstatic to have another spawnling. it’s been so long, he’d felt scared after the exorcisms thousands of years ago and he’d missed having kin so much. if the people knew what he was, if that information wasn’t all but forgotten, they’d never look at him with the adoration they always did. but now, not only has he found kin from the time, who survived alongside him, but he had a new mortal with so much potential to become a new part of his kin too! and, obviously, the second he cast his eyes on c!tommy he sensed it, so he’d had intelligence on him at all times to learn everything about him, because that clearly made him important. he might have even tipped the cards a bit when it came to the l’manberg conflict itself, but all for the greater good, right? all for kin. kin is all that matters. and even if c!tommy hates him now, he’ll realise that eventually, right?

it ended with c!tommy forced to watch as his friends and family from l’manberg were executed, without ever being able to say goodbye and raise a hand to help them btw :)

[ofyorkshire]

🕯️

send 🕯️ for my character's inner thoughts on yours || accepting; mutuals or anons sending for red riding canons only

"You would like him. He looks like trouble, but he's a real American gentleman." BJ grinned, arms stuck loosely out at his sides as he balanced his way down the row of cement wheel stops. It was late, going on 2am, but between the bright car park lamps and the full, pale moon, BJ wasn't afraid. Home was just a stretch away—if he rounded past that laundromat ahead, their flat would be just beyond that at the end of the street.

"We met at a club," he said. "No work. Just out for some fun. He caught my eye as soon as he came up to the bar. He ordered this... this seltzer water thing, I think, and I guess I were starin' at him, like, 'cos he noticed me, and the way he smiled looked..." He trailed, weirdly self-conscious at the memory. Squirmy inside. BJ wobbled on the next step and paused, cupping his hands against his diaphragm where the discomfort felt most real. Horrible. Distressing. And a lot like feeling alive.

Deep breath in.

"...Well. Doesn't matter. We went to the toilets together and after ended up at a motel. Don't think he liked it much when I told him I didn't want to face him, but he didn't make a fuss. He were nice about it. About everything. A gentleman, like I said. Even gave us a kiss before he left."

Heat tickled around BJ's cheeks as he hopped to the next stop. Even to the night air, he couldn't confess everything in his head. As a rule, he tried not to think too much about TK and their one night together because it was never meant to be anything but one night, a sentiment that was harder to throw out the window now that they were, by some cruel chance, flatmates. It was hard to forget sometimes when TK's voice was gravelled from sleep, or when he was fresh from a shower, water still dripping from the ends of his messy hair and skin flush with soap and heat. Worse, it was almost impossible not to lean into fleeting every-day touches. The soft things that BJ was sure TK never even thought about before doing but made BJ ache all over. A soothing touch to the nape of the neck here after a bad dream, a delicate touch to the small of his back while passing in the confined space of the kitchen, a playful bump of knees while sitting on the couch watching a stupid romcom... Fleeting ghosts of human warmth and connection that BJ craved like food. On bad days he felt hollowed out with want, all sticky-outy ribs caging around a concave stomach growling for a meal it wouldn't know how to digest.

"We don't talk about it now," BJ said. "He had a bad breakup, you know. Fiancé. Mad bastard cheated on him, can you believe it?"

No answer.

Deep breath out.

"We're flatmates now. Sort of accidentally, but it's good. We share little potted plants, watch films on his off nights, he's—" wobble, "—trying to teach me how to swim. It's really... really normal. You know, like... it's... comfortable. Like we were. Almost." BJ stepped down onto the pavement. In the distance, a siren wailed and he began toward the laundromat. Best be heading home.

"TK introduced me to his team at the firehouse, too. Wouldn't let up suggesting it 'til I visited. I thought he was just being polite, but he meant it. Means most things. He's a social man. Likes bringing people together like family."

Several more sirens rose into the night air, making BJ's skin prickle. That was at least one ambulance and one firetruck.

"I think he's scared of being left behind, like his fiancé left him. Like his dad," BJ went on. "I think that's why he holds everyone together like he does. He tries so fucking hard and he's so obvious and I don't know if they notice. His dad doesn't." A tick in his jaw, he turned once to check his surroundings as he left the bright glow of the carpark lights. "You'd think that would change things between them, that one day he'd let it all out and tell his dad how much he hurt him. He doesn't though. Doesn't act the least bitter about it. But it does hurt him, and it comes out in other ways. Picking fights and runnin'... and little flings in filthy club toilets."

BJ passed the laundromat, walked without interruption down the street, keeping to the light, and soon mounted the stairwell.

"Think I love him, though, Clare," he murmured under his breath. The night air listened closely. "I shouldn't. We agreed this wasn't anything and it shouldn't be anything, and I tried, but I can't help it. If you could see him, see the way he is with people, with animals, with his work...?" With me? "His fiancé must have been a complete doylum to break his heart. I'd give anything to find someone like that."

The keys jingled around BJ's index as he swung them idly 'round. Their door was at the end of the hall and everything was quiet. Clare was not there with him, of course not, but he stilled at the top of the stairs to feel for her all the same.

"A man like him makes all the others look cheap," he said. The breeze was warm, he could still hear the sirens. Maybe he would stop out here and smoke for a while on the balcony to further clear his head. "I wish you could have met him. He'd have loved you too, you know, and your little girls. He's going to make someone very happy someday."

[rookthegremlin]

A RANT ON DEREALIZATION AND HOW I HALLUCINATED ON ONLY 20 MILLIGRAMS OF THE DEVILS LETTUCE, you've been warned :)

I have this unnerving feeling that everyday I'm passing out of people's perception more and more. That through this process, I'm thus becoming less and less real as well, that maybe I'm just the figment of everyone else's imagination. Like, holy shit, is this what it's like? Derealization? Just this process of becoming less real through lack of perception by others? Until your parents forget you, your friends forget you, the government forgets you, hell even God itself forgets. Everything, even the atoms that swirl around you act as if you aren't even there. And that every decision you make, every act, every word, doesn't even really matter. The other day, I consumed two 10 milligram gummy bears (just the good ol' Mary j) and I had the worst trip of my entire life. hallucinations of people watching me like I was on a TV show and that the food I was eating wasn't even food, but tiny people, screaming for their lives. That even the water I was drinking was some disgusting slurry of something gelatinous and horrible that one might have yanked out of the bathtub drain. In the corner of my eyes were rough sketches of people peering from around my eyelashes. I felt like I wasn't even human. I was so terrified of the dog that I'm babysitting because I was convinced that she was something horrible in a dog-skin suit, pretending, but pleading that we would notice and save her. Or was that what she wanted me to think? And I thought in that moment, that I had lost my mind, that maybe I had finally gone batshit crazy. And just now, there's this strange feeling in my head that doesn't feel right, and it makes me feel like I too am pretending. That I'm some sort of other being parading around in stolen skin, or that maybe I'm in the matrix and this is all a simulation afterall. That I'm not real, just codes and numbers that make up a character; and not even a main character, just an extra. Just background filler that nobody would notice if I were gone. There would be no difference if I was alive or dead, nobody would notice because I'm not even real. So why even try? If I'm not real then...

No.

I'm real because I perceive myself, and even if I'm perceived by only some, it's still better than being perceived by none. I couldn't have made any of this up and I'm sure that nobody could have made me up either, so I must be real...

Right?

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

I saw a book called Burn After Writing in Target yesterday, and for someone who hoards everything, afraid to forget a single conversation or feeling or piece of writing, the idea of burning an entire journal full of thoughts seems terrifying (and also a little cathartic), but still, I opened it to look inside. The first question I saw asked what my sixteen year old self would think of me now, and I can’t stop thinking about it. That question punched me right in the gut. Because it doesn’t matter what other people think of you, right? And self-love is really the most important kind of love. And I used to be so fucking proud of who I was. I was insecure in a lot of ways, sure, but I never once hated who I was. Not when I was sad or lonely or miserable or afraid. Not even then. I had this intrinsic sort of happiness, this confidence that I was worthy of love and support because I was good. I was brave and creative and ambitious and kind. I was so willing to help everyone, so willing to stand up for what I believed in. I wrote every day, and I dreamed of traveling, of making connections. I wrote a poem once declaring mediocrity as the worst thing that could ever happen to me, saying I’d rather catch fire and burn then fail to live or be noticed at all. And here I am. Stuck in this horrible cycle of mediocrity. I’m living in a house I can’t afford, with a job I need but don’t love, raising a child with the worst person I’ve ever met, mindlessly scrolling through social media, not writing, not traveling, not loving or being loved because I wasted a third of my life in a situation so toxic, it spilled into me. I lost friends. I hurt people. I made mistakes. And for the first time in my life, I learned what self-loathing really was. I hate who I’ve become. At Hulaween, I was in line for the Saturday 2 a.m. mass at the House of Lost, and some girl came up to me, and she asked me what my favorite thing about myself was, and I froze. I legitimately didn’t know what to say. Not a single thing came to mind. She looked uncomfortable as I mumbled something pathetic about not being able to answer questions, and then finally said I loved my creativity, and she said “good,” and walked away, but that was a lie, because I used to be creative, but I’m not. Not anymore. My sixteen year old self would be so fucking disappointed in who I am today. I wanted to act, to write, to travel, to love, to be the ray of sunshine in the lives of everyone I met, to be honest and dependable, and true to myself, and someone who would never hurt another human being, and I know exactly where I went wrong but I don’t know how to go back. I feel like my choices have stained my soul in a way I can never undo, and I’ll never be who I was. I’ll never be that good. I’ll never be that proud. Because even if I travel and write and cut out negative people and become a ray of sunshine and stop being a pushover, an enabler, a toxic human being, even then, I’ll still be the person who made these mistakes, who hurt these people, and I’m scared I’ll feel like a liar, like an imposter in my own skin. I’m scared regret will be too much a part of me to cut out. Like the past will never leave, and I’ll never really love who I am because of who I was. And I know I”d never look at someone else and say the same. Because people change and evolve, and you can love someone for who they are and not who they were, but I really don’t know if I can say the same about me. But I need to become someone I can love again. Because picturing the disappointment of my sixteen year old self, who loved herself more than I could remember, broke me. 

[alligatorjesie]

Love how you state right at the top of reply how you 'did tag this properly'

Then proceeded to actually tag it how you fucking should have to fucking start with

but still did not fix the tags in your original post

That's really fun. </s>

The correct tags you're looking to use so you don’t end up coughing your hate everywhere with your uncovered mouth you filthy fucking animal are:

Anti-fandom

Anti_fandom

or Antifandom

The tag you don't want to use is;

Anti Fandom

with the space

like you did correctly in this reply post.

because ya kinda understand what you did wrong there now, don’t you?

Here's a little tumblr coding basics 101;

if I made the tag

'Zuko dies in a horrible train crash after Godzilla shit on the tracks'

That entire tag will now show up in the zuko tag, the godzilla tag, the shit tag, the train tag, so on and so on.

Because that's how this website works.

Tumblr considers spaces in a tag kinda like a new instance of a tag. A comma in the code acts like a ‘stop’. When you type out a full sentence with spaces it considers those spaces ‘tag breaks’.

It'll do the small work for you and ignore the instances of 'The' or 'In' and 'A' but everything else that could potentially be a keyword gets thrown into the site-wide tagging system.

When someone arranges a tag as one word (either by actually making it one word or using a hyphen) Tumblr will look at it and go 'Ah! This is one word!' and sorts it accordingly.

To Tumblr 'anti' is an active(awful) tag so when you tag something 'anti reylo' it will sort it into the anti tag and reylo tag accordingly.

Meaning the regular joes who are just going about their normal business in their fandom space and haven’t preemptively blocked the anti tag or you personally will now see you being an asshole to us in living color.

Over the fact 'you think' the zutara ship is more morally upstanding because it has less ‘problematic’ issues over a nearly identical canon ship, reylo, which is Ben Solo and Rey from Star Wars, and the also non-canon Harry Potter ship, dramione.

They're fictional fucking ships.

bodycount don’t really fuckin’ matter because the fake people they killed are fake.

There's no moral supremacy over one vs the other.

Uncle Iroh was a decorated war general so I'm pretty sure his body count is higher than everyone in the room but since we get to only see him in ‘jolly old man trying to stop his stupid nephew from becoming his monster of a father’ mode so we kinda forget he's a fuckin' war general.

and you know what man

I just don’t fucking know what crack you smoked to come up with this one

so here we fucking are

And since op tagged this so poorly when they made the original post trying to put my whole fucking fandom on blast

like some kinda beacon

a whole ass reylo showed up would ya fuckin’ believe it?

after tagging the reylo fandom?

Well that reylo is now here to help you get your facts straight and to ask you once again with feeling to fix those tags and find your nearest exit buddy

Anyways, basic fucking coding lesson aside:

This isn't a case of 'if you dislike it you should just scroll past'

this is a case of 'Why the fuck are you even fucking here?'

I'm glad you got zutara, a nice enjoyable ship that I also interact with on this demon’s asshole of a website because it has such striking resemblance to reylo, to look at fondly and enjoy but there is no fucking reason for you to come into other Incredibly Similar Fandom's Tags

LIED ABOUT SHIT ABOUT THOSE CHARACTERS/SHIPS OUTRIGHT

then tell those people their ships are worse 'because the writing was bad'.

you said and I quote: Kylo also has a worse record than Zuko: murdering his dad, oppressing countless people, killing civilians, and maiming people.

Kylo Ren is a weapon of war being used by a tyrannical madman who has been in his head since childhood.

he was convinced to kill his father by this madman and regrets doing it so badly his entire moral compass gets upended and he literally kills that same madman The Very Next Fucking Movie, not for power mind you,

but because he wanted to save Rey

He even still regrets killing his father in tros, a point JJ needed to so sloppily rammed in there he just copy pasted a whole fucking scene from his last movie.

Kylo never kills a single civilian throughout the entire trilogy. The town of people he killed at the beginning of TFA are Resistance members. He is not responsible for the planetary system being blown up in TFA that was Hux and Snoke

Kylo Ren Only Kills Combatants Of War For The Entire Trilogy.

(go on @fanfic-lover-girl , go check for yourself. It’s only 3 movies. I’ll watch them with you. Again.

We'll see who's right about these little details, the person who has seen these movies over and over or the person who admits they ain't watched them once)

you just straight up lied about a character to make yourself feel better about your fictional ship.

And that’s just fucking nuts to me man.

What the fuck ass backwards world are we living in that this is the hell you choose to raise? There's 2 wars going on and the fucking nazis are back but this is what you wanna put on blast?

That reylo and dramione are worse ships because the writing isn’t good to you?

I assure you the fans in these fandom have gone above and beyond to fix the bad writing brought on by their imperfect creators but the shit you’re complaining about ain’t even problems. You’re just making shit up

How Fucking Nice must it be to have people who made your media be perf little snowflakes but it is not our fucking fault JJ is a fucking moron and JKRolfing is a massive terf cunt.

(Rian tho is actually perfect and is responsible for 75% of Ben's character growth in canon so bless that man he did his fucking best but I digress-)

People have created whole fucking short animated movies and detailed comics along with incredibly well written fanfictions to correct what they didn't like about the story.

‘death of the author’ at work baby.

Unless you’re the fucking fandom police your opinion on what is good media vs bad mean don’t mean jack fuckin’ shit brah.

so,

kindly,

Fuck off.

PS:

You know being told to kill myself nearly 1000 times over the past year and a half ain’t been a fuckin’ cakewalk enough without the added shit frosting that is people in fandoms trying to talk down to other nearly identical fandoms.

This banner ain't a fuckin' joke. I have been told to kill myself this many times by antis posting hate into the reylo tag.

Assholes like you are 1000 times worse than all the fictional bad men combined.

You're going after real people.

Do better

Anyhoots here’s a fuckin’ picture of my cat she’s fucking adorable

Demonization of the Enemies to Lovers Trope

I find it very disingenuous when Zutara antis compare or lump Zutara with problematic ships like Reylo and Dramione. Anyone who makes a claim like this should have not any opinions about ATLA respected. Because they obviously did not watch the show.

There are major differences that set Zutara apart from Reylo and Dramione.

Zutara vs Dramione - Friendship

Zuko and Katara reconciled and became very close friends in season 3. Draco and Hermione disliked each other in canon and the best of their relationship was civility. Dramione could have served the same narrative function as Zutara by representing union after war but Dramione lacked the canon building blocks that Zutara had.

Zutara vs Reylo - Redemption

Zuko has a powerful redemption arc. But even when Zuko was an antagonist, he was never truly evil. And Zuko's actions towards Katara (eg tying her to a tree) were not completely monstrous. Zuko and Katara never crossed any boundaries while enemies. When Katara starts showing compassion to Zuko, it is in season 2 when Zuko is no longer an active threat (eg. offering to heal Iroh and their emotional moment in the catacombs). Compare this to Reylo where there are all these romantic undertones while Reylo and Kylo are still enemies. Kylo also has a worse record than Zuko: murdering his dad, oppressing countless people, killing civilians, and maiming people. And Rey for some reason, before Kylo does anything to deserve it, begins to feel sorry for him. Unlike Zuko, we don't see Kylo truly atone for what he did to Rey. Not to mention the abusive elements in their relationship such as Kylo calling Rey worthless.

The point is that people need to stop demonizing enemies to lovers ships. And stop lumping healthy ships like Zutara with more toxic ships like Dramione and Reylo. It's not a fair comparison.