#sorry op im going through your tag

[shut-up-hope]

“how can i love someone whos betrayed me?” insert the entirety of 5x13 here

bbc merlin - 04x11 The Hunter's Heart

would very much love to remind everyone that this scene comes directly after merlin accuses agravaine of betrayal and fails to prove it. and yet. there's no one else he could trust with this. no one he could trust more. no other opinions he'd want to seek out beyond his. no one he'd rather tell this to. no one else he'd let in like this. no one he'd trust more to ask for help in a matter so important to him.

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part three

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown / @m4x-3dw / @nothingbutcloud / @reivelmin / @grimometry / @walmartjim / @adelezzxd / @reiofsuns2001 / @bunni-teeth81 / @marshnest / @satorisgirl / @symphology / @pen900 / @sometimesminsan / @creat0r-cat / @lackingoriginalthoughts / @fries11 / @sunniskyies

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part two | part four

The three of you sat in the impressive living room, Ford and you sitting on the couch while Fiddleford lounges in the loveseat, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

“You were able to sell those patents to the government and that’s how you got this place!” You say in glee, your lips spread into an excited smile, “I told you your inventions were going to get you places, Fiddleford!”

“Aw shucks, you flatter me too much. Glad this noggin of mine finally got put to good use!” Fiddleford said bashfully, knocking on his skull, “So Stanford told me you got a job in the National Parks! Find any gold while surveying?”

“No gold yet but I’ve found a few gemstones that I ended up pocketing instead of just documenting them.” You admitted with a sly smile.

The two of you laughed and chatted like time had never passed. Meanwhile, Ford watched with a wistful smile, wishing to hear you be just as comfortable with him as you once were. Though in the back of his head, he recognized that once your memories return, you may never want to speak to him again.

“Ford, what did you end up doing after all these years? I’m sure something exciting with 12 PhDs.” You ask with a curious tilt to your head. You tried to loop him back into the conversation, feeling guilty that you and Fiddleford had spent most of this time catching up with one another with Ford sitting there observing quietly.

“Oh… well..” Ford stammered, caught off guard by the question. He glanced over at Fiddleford who gave him a sympathetic look before giving a nod of encouragement, “I decided to study anomalies with my grant money. Gravity Falls is actually chalk full of them, hence why I ended up here. Fiddleford actually came out here from Palo Alto to help me with my research.”

“Really? I’m surprised we didn’t meet when I had visited him years ago but you must have been busy with your research, right?” You question, not knowing the weight of the situation that you had left years ago. Ford and Fiddleford exchanged tense glances which caused you to sit up right, “Is.. everything okay?”

-

The previous evening, Ford had decided to give Fiddleford a call preemptively before bringing you over to get some answers of his own. 

After the second ring, Ford heard a “Yello?” from his old friend and sighed, trying to keep his composure. He was ready to start a tirade of questions but he attempted to remain cool, not wanting to alienate his friend that he just got back.

He didn’t want to go in blind with the assumption that Fiddleford’s memory erasing gun was the cause of your memory loss, when there could be a laundry list of potential conditions you may have that could have caused this amnesia.

“Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, Fiddleford. I have some news that can’t wait until the morning.” Ford says, leaning against the wall while twirling the cord of the phone in between his fingers.

“Sure, what is it, pal? I’ve been working on a new patent so I need a break anyways,” Fiddleford says on the other end, removing his green glasses and moving to the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Well, do you remember Y/N? Our friend from Backupsmore and my… ex-lover.” Ford hesitates during the last part. 

Ford hears a hitch in his friend’s voice along with shuffling on the other end before hearing a response, “Yes, I remember her.”

Ford inhales sharply before letting out a deep sigh, “Well, she’s in Gravity Falls. My brother stumbled upon her after her car broke down in the woods and brought her back to the Mystery Shack.”

“W-Well, isn’t that exciting. We should catch up, shouldn’t we?” Fiddleford says with an anxious edge to his voice.

“Fiddleford…” Ford’s voice is stiff as his worst fears feel like they are already confirmed, “Why does she not remember me?”

Apologies spill from Fiddleford, the anxiety in his voice mounting, “I-I’m so sorry, Stanford. At the time, I thought it was the only way we were going to get through everything we saw, everything we experienced.”

Ford swallowed the lump in his throat, not knowing whether to comfort his friend or to lash out on him for doing such a thing. Hearing those words was like swallowing a bitter pill. He remained silent, letting Fiddleford ramble on to get more details.

“She came to me in tears… she just kept saying over and over that she wanted the pain to go away.” Fiddleford explained, beginning to pace around the space. 

“So you just took her memories, just like that? Specifically her memories of me? Because she remembers you just fine!” Ford’s frustration finally comes out. His right hand balled into a fist, his left clutching the phone tightly. 

Fiddleford winces at the harshness in Ford’s voice, memories of their last fight flashing back but he knows he has to face it rather than running away like he did all those years. He takes a deep breath before sighing, “Stanford, she asked me to erase her memories.”

Ford feels his heart drop and his stomach in knots, almost dropping the phone. 

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Why would you want to forget him?

Was what he did all those years ago so horrible that you wanted to erase his very existence from your mind?

Ford struggled to find the words but was able to muster out, “It’s… not your fault, Fiddleford. It’s mine. I put you both through hell during my quest for knowledge.” 

Fiddleford paused before responding back shakily, “You don’t need to keep apologizing, friend. Bring her over tomorrow, hopefully we can jog her memory.”

Ford let out a sigh, “Alright, also if you have literally anything from our time from college, please retrieve it to show it to her. That’s what helped bring back Stanley’s memories - any physical reminder of the memories.”

They both said their good nights before hanging up the phone. Ford slides against the wall in defeat, reaching up to run a hand over his face underneath his glasses before pausing as he feels the wetness against his eyes. 

He hadn’t even registered the tears that began to prick the inner corners of his eyes.

-

Fiddleford gets up from his seat, excusing himself abruptly to retrieve something in the other room. Your question remains unanswered and hangs in the air as Ford refuses to meet your gaze, seemingly invested in the stray thread on his sweater.

“Something must have happened when I was out here all those years ago…” You mutter, staring down at your feet, “It affected us, didn’t it? Whatever we were…” You trail off. You had put some of the pieces together that your relationship with Ford prior must have carried a heavy history.

Ford continues to play with the thread, the silence slowly eating away at him before he finally responds, “It did. Not only you and I but my friendship with Fiddleford as well.” He wrapped the thread around his index finger, “It might come as a surprise, but Fiddleford and I just rekindled our friendship this past summer.”

Before you can reply, Fiddleford comes back into the room, holding a cardboard box in his bandaged hands. He unceremoniously dumps it onto the table before flopping back down onto his chair. His light-hearted demeanor had shifted to one of anxiety. 

“Listen, Y/N… I have to admit something to you that you might not like… ah jeez..” Fiddleford stumbles over his words, craving an escape from this situation. 

“Whatever it is, as long as it gets me closer to understanding what’s going on, I promise I won’t be upset at you.” You try to reassure your friend, looking over to Ford to help back you up. Ford’s gaze softened, nodding in understanding, “It’s going to be alright, Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford feels comfort in his close friends’ reassurance, taking a deep breath before rambling out an explanation that’s barely coherent, wanting to get it off his chest immediately, “I created an invention that wipes people’s specific memories called the Memory Gun! I even used it on myself and my mind was gone for decades. Basically I erased your memories all those years ago and that’s why you don’t remember Stanford! There I said it!”

Ford winces at his friend’s delivery, realizing maybe he should have taken the lead to reveal this information to you in a more tactful way. 

Your eyes darted between Ford and Fiddleford, letting out a nervous chuckle, “Real funny guys… did you two plan this prank over the phone last night?” The story presented to you seems preposterous, out of a science fiction novel.

However, when Ford and Fiddleford stare back at you with solemn gazes, you realize that this story is the truth. 

It explained the gaps of time during your time in college that you could not recall.

It explained the dreams you had every night of a person that you could never see the face of.

Your memories of Stanford had been somehow wiped from your brain.

You sit there, processing this information in silence. Fiddleford almost seems like he’s bracing for impact, ready for you to lash out at him for doing such a thing. Ford sits rigid beside you before getting up suddenly. Both you and Fiddleford look up in confusion as he reaches into the box that Fiddleford placed on the table.

His fingers pluck out what seems to be a photo and walks over to you. His warm, calloused hand brushes against yours, placing it into your hands. Staring down at it, you see younger versions of yourself, Ford and Fiddleford.

Ford was decked out in a doctoral graduation cap and gown that swallowed up his frame, a wide grin spread across his cheeks. He had his arm around Fiddleford’s shoulder, who wore a green button up shirt, brown slacks and a pair of cowboy boots. In his hands he held a sign that said ‘10 Doctorates Down, 2 More to Go’. You were wearing a flowy dress and were on Ford’s left side, his six fingers holding you by the waist.

“This was taken on one of my many graduation days, you and Fiddleford attended every single one and were cheering me on in the crowd.” Ford explains, beckoning Fiddleford to come over and look at the photo. Fiddleford hesitantly gets up from his chair, sitting next to you.

“Listen, I know you may have a lot of questions about how this even happened. I promise that in time, Fiddleford and I will tell you everything that led up to the erasure of your memories. But you need the rest of your memories for any of this to make sense.” Ford says, staring into your eyes and resting a hand on your shoulder. 

His mantra after Bill wreaked havoc in his life had been Trust No One.

Yet he asks you to do the one thing that he could not do back then, “Can you please trust us?”

A mixture of emotions - confusion, hurt, anger - ran through you and you weren’t sure which one to listen to. As you looked back down at the photo, your thumb ran over where Ford was, covering up his face. Without him there, the image looked… empty.

You look up at Ford, “I’m trusting you and Fiddleford… I want to get my memories back.” You pause before continuing your statement, “How I feel about the both of you after I get them back, we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Ford nods in understanding, knowing that you rightfully had your guard up. Fiddleford breathes a sigh of relief, still feeling the need to apologize, “I’m really sorry for putting you in this predicament, Y/N… I hope you’ll forgive me.” You stare at your old friend, knowing from experience that this man had a heart of gold. As confused as you were, you try to believe that Fiddleford had to have done it for some good reason.

You quickly envelop Fiddleford into a tight hug, squeezing him tightly. He squeaks in surprise and you mutter, “Whatever the reason you erased my memories is…I know you have a good heart. I’ll forgive you, Fiddleford.” You feel his flimsy arms return the embrace, and you two sit there for a bit before pulling apart.

“Alrighty then, let’s get those memories back!” Fiddleford says, getting up and rummaging through the box to retrieve a textbook that spelled out ‘Quantum Mechanics.’ 

You all collectively shuddered at the sight of it, groaning in unison, “Ugh, quantum mechanics” before bursting out into laughter at your shared reaction.

“Dear god, that class was terrible! Not because of the content but our professor!” Ford groaned, “I swear he spent more time teaching us about his conspiracy theories than actually covering the equations needed for our assignments.”

“Stanford, I think you might be the only one who actually enjoyed the content of it, me and Y/N were ready to pull our hair out every single class.” Fiddleford chuckled before passing the textbook over to you.

You look down at it, brushing off the dust. A wave of nostalgia hits you as you flip through the pages, remembering the sensation of your cheek being pressed against those pages before jolting up, trying to wipe off the stray drool that had accumulated on the corner of your lip. You had fallen asleep in class again, a gentle hand shaking you awake.

You pause before staring up at the both of them, “Oh my god, I think I remember something.”

“You would wake me up whenever I’d fall asleep in lecture, Ford.” You say, the memory coming back to you with more clarity, “I always nodded off in that class since it was 8 AM and I usually stayed up the night before studying for exams.”

Ford and Fiddleford both look at each other before grinning widely. “It’s starting to work!” Fiddleford says excitedly, ready to fish out another object out of the box.

“Jeez, how much stuff do you have in here?” You chuckle, getting up from your seat to crowd around the box. Your eyes scan through the assortment of objects - old textbooks from physics and mathematics courses, decor from Backupsmore and a few older photos strewn about.

“I didn’t realize you kept all these things from college, Fiddleford.” Ford says, following behind you. “I didn’t either, guess I lost track of where everything was after my mind got scrambled. Tate found most of this stuff in a box that I apparently had stashed underneath my cot when I was living at the shack.” Fiddleford chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

The three of you spent the next hours sifting through the contents of the box and with each item plucked from the box, a memory from college returned as you pieced together the fragmented slivers in your mind. Some memories did not come as quickly, causing you some frustration but you put them to the side, cataloging it for later.

Soon the sunlight that leaked through the windows began to turn into a warm orange, signaling the sunset approaching. Ford had tried to hide an embarrassing photo from you and Fiddleford which resulted in you trying to wrestle it out of his hand playfully. You ended up snagging it from his six-fingered hold after he got flustered when you started getting closer to him, practically on his lap, to try and retrieve it.

The last photo was a polaroid of Ford with his face buried into your neck, a few beer bottles littered around him. Fiddleford was clearly holding the camera, his thumb sticking out in the foreground in a thumbs up. ‘Happy 21st, S.’ was scrawled out at the bottom, slightly faded over time.

“You were a light-weight, weren’t you?” You say cheekily to which Ford crosses his arms in protest, “It was my first time drinking, what did you expect?”

Fiddleford watched contently before seeing the sunset start to creep in, “Aw shucks, the sun’s about to set. Ya’ll should head out before it gets too dark. I know this one isn’t the best at driving in the dark.” He said, jerking a thumb over at Ford.

“I didn’t realize this was a gang-up on Stanford Pines session.” Ford huffed, getting up from his seat on the floor. You follow suit, grabbing the stack of photos that had piled up and placing them in the box before asking Fiddleford, “Mind if I take the box with me, Fiddleford? I’m hoping the more I look at them, more memories will pop up.”

Fiddleford nods eagerly, “Absolutely, Stanford can give you my number if you have any questions for me. I’m sure you’ll have a ton… after you get all your memories back.” He trails off, knowing the journey ahead to recovering your memories may come with some mixed emotions.

You give Fiddleford another tight parting hug, squeezing him almost like you may not see him again. You follow Ford out, placing the box carefully into the back seat of the red convertible before driving back down the hill.

You spent most of the drive taking in the sight of the golden hues over the lush forest. Occasionally, Ford uses his peripheral vision to take a glance at you, seeing how the gemstone around your neck glows against the sunlight. 

You catch him glancing once and he quickly shifts his focus back on the road, his chest puffing and his posture stiff. Your lips curl in amusement at how he tries but fails to be subtle. It’s quite charming - you were starting to see how you fell for him in the first place. “So… our relationship clearly wasn’t platonic, was it?” You ask suddenly.

Ford almost swerves off the side of the road at your question, quickly straightening his wheel as your hand reaches for the grab handle. “I didn’t realize you had put that together already..” Ford stammered before apologizing for his driving.

“Even if none of my memories had come back today, it’s pretty easy to pick up from the photos, especially the last one.” You chuckled softly before pausing. You mull over what to say next before finally speaking up, “I’m guessing we… didn’t end on the best terms, did we?”

Ford’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, his expression tense. He looked defeated - weighed down by the weight of the negative effects that his desperate chase for knowledge had on his loved ones. 

Stanley, Fiddleford, you. 

Ford lets out a heavy sigh, “No, we didn’t… and it is my fault. I was on this never-ending journey trying to prove my worth but in the process, I pushed away those who saw my worth just the way I was.” He looks out into the horizon, seeing the sun begin to disappear between the Floating Cliffs. “If you will allow me, I really hope I get the chance to undo my mistakes and mend our relationship… just like Fiddleford and I have.” His eyes meet yours and your expression looks conflicted… almost like you can still feel the remnants of pain that he had caused all those years ago.

“Listen, Ford… I would like to start on the path of healing what happened in the past but I just got back memories from college. I am sure there’s a few more years of history up ahead… one step at a time, okay?” You explain, wanting to level his expectations. Ford nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, “Understood, apologies for getting ahead of myself.”

As you made your way back down the winding hills, you both sat in silence the rest of the way back to the Mystery Shack. Pulling in front of the cabin, Ford shifts the car into park and clears his throat, catching your attention, “You aren’t planning on leaving tomorrow, correct? Stanley had mentioned that you had a whole trip up to Seattle ahead of you.” 

You stare deadpan over at him, “Ford, I literally was just told today that a good chunk of my memories are gone. Do you really think I’m worried about my trip?” You say with an eyebrow raised. Ford blinks at your response before rubbing the back of your neck, “That’s very true, I just want to make sure I wasn’t holding you hostage in figuring this out.”

You shrug casually, “Unfortunately, I can’t just pick up and leave knowing I don’t have a good chunk of my memories.” You smile, despite everything, you were grateful for this unexpected detour. You got to reconnect with an old friend, still got to enjoy some beautiful scenery and the free lodging didn’t hurt. “Besides, Gravity Falls seems like it has its own charms I can appreciate. I’m curious about the anomalies you came out here to study - everything seems pretty normal other than those floating cliffs we passed on the way down.”

A spark lights up in Ford’s eyes the moment you mentioned anomalies, seeing him grin in absolute glee. “Well, there’s a whole bunch out there, the Floating Cliffs is truly only scratching the surface of what oddities this place has to offer. I would love to take you anomaly hunting some time. Obviously nothing too intense, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He realized what he had just said and began to stammer, backtracking his offer, “B-But only if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You giggle at his awkward charm, “I would like that. Maybe tomorrow?”

Before Ford can reply, both of you are startled by the sudden rapping of knuckles on the glass of the driver’s side window. You quickly whip your heads to see Mabel grinning, her braces on full display as she stares at the two of you through the glass. Ford rolls down the window, “Mabel, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Mabel says before whipping out her phone to reveal a slightly blurry photo of you and Ford smiling at one another from an awkward angle, “to take this photo!” Ford blinks, his eyes adjusting to look at the photo before staring at it perplexed, “I still don’t quite understand how this small contraption holds a camera in it.” 

You laugh at Ford’s statement, leaning over his shoulder to take a look at the photo, “What, you don’t know how a cell phone works? Are you sure I'm the one who had their memories wiped?” Ford’s cheeks feel warm as he can feel the heat and weight of your body pressed against his back, “Great photo, Mabel. How was the roller rink?” You quickly change the subject, starting to pick up on Mabel’s matchmaking  tactics.

“It was great! My friends, Grenda and Candy, and I had a slurpee chugging contest to see who could get brain freeze the fastest!” Mabel explained excitedly. “I’d love to hear more about it, how about we head inside?” You say before pulling away from Ford to exit the car and follow Mabel back into the Mystery Shack.

Ford sat there in disbelief, his brain short circuiting over how your body felt against him as well as the prospect of going on a pseudo-date with you, before resting his head directly on the steering wheel, the horn echoing through the forest. You look back in alarm and glance over at Mabel, “Uh, is your Grunkle okay?” 

Mabel looks back and shrugs, as if it’s a common occurrence, “Probably, Dipper does that too against the wall when he’s overthinking something.”

You sat on the floor of the living room, listening to Mabel excitedly tell you about her adventures with her friends with Ford joining shortly after his malfunction in the car.

Dipper came downstairs, having spent most of the day reading over a strategy guide for Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons that he wanted to go over with Ford, which led Mabel to recount her day again to the new audience member. 

“So, Y/N, was the trip to see Old Man McGucket a success? Did you get some of your memories back?” Dipper asks. You blink before realizing he’s referring to Fiddleford, nodding in response. “Yeah, thankfully, he had some stuff from your Grunkle Ford and I’s time at Backupsmore that helped jog some memories. Not 100% there but we’re getting there.” You share, “We actually brought some of it home to help continue to jog my memories.”

“Wait, are there photos? I wanna see young Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket! Grunkle Ford lore!” Mabel asks excitedly. You turn to Ford who seems reluctant to share with the kids, “Well, up to you if you wanna show them.” Ford hesitates for a second but the moment he sees Mabel flash the dangerous puppy dog eyes that Stanley warned him about, he’s easily persuaded, “Alright, I’ll go get the box.”

You spend the rest of the evening showing the twins memories from the past with Ford filling in some of the gaps you couldn’t quite remember still. Dipper and Mabel laugh at the sight of Fiddleford with a horseshoe mustache with Ford insisting that it was in fashion at the time. You smile at the sight of the family bonding before realizing a member was missing.

“Hey Dipper, is your Grunkle Stan not back yet? It’s getting a bit late.” You ask suddenly. Dipper takes a moment before snapping his fingers, “He mentioned something about not waiting up for him. He didn’t say where he was going, just said he was gonna be out late.” You look over to Ford who simply shrugs, “My brother is one of the toughest people I know, throws a mean left hook. He’ll be fine.” Based on everyone’s nonchalant reactions, you decide to trust that this was a normal occurrence.

The night ends with Mabel gushing over the polaroid that she found of you both, leading Ford to chase her around the Shack trying to retrieve it from her. Dipper and you doubled in laughter, watching the antics unfold.

Ford ended up stuffing it in his pocket, wanting to have at least one piece of your shared history to hold onto himself.

-

He wasn’t in bed… again.

You wake up yet again to the left side of the bed empty, the sheets feeling cold to the touch. The moon barely seeps light through the triangle shaped window, allowing your eyes to adjust quickly to the sight. Your eyes glance out the window. The forest is dusted white, snow coating the treetops and causing the glass to frost.

You begin what felt like a nightly routine at this time, sliding out of the bed. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep, rubbing them roughly. You slide on your slippers and make your way to the basement.

At this point, you don’t even need a light to guide the way, navigating through the dark cabin with ease. The wind howls harshly outside, its echo traveling through the quiet house. 

You finally arrive, shuddering at the sudden temperature drop from the upstairs to the basement. You push open the metal door. The lab is quite messy, sticky notes with equations plastered all over and triangle-shaped figures littered around it. You see the familiar figure, frenetically writing in the red journal in front of him as the metal door creeks to signal your presence.

“Ford?” You call out, walking towards him, “Are you alright?” You ask, something felt off with the way he was acting as you walked in. Even when he would reach a breakthrough in his research, he would jot notes down with a quick yet methodical manner. Just glancing over his shoulder, the writing looked messy & chaotic compared to his neat cursive.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to halt his actions. His hand reached up, placing it atop yours. 

However, rather than stroking the back of your hand like he normally would, he gripped it tightly, causing you to wince in response.

“Ow, Ford, what the hell?” You mutter, trying to shake your hand loose.

The grip only tightened as Ford’s head turned, bright yellow eyes staring back at you.

“Well, well, well, nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” 

You jolt awake, a thin sheen of cold sweat coating your body. Your heart practically jumps out of your throat as you look around frantically. For what, you’re not sure but your body goes into fight or flight, tossing the blankets off. The air around you feels thick and the room feels like it's closing in on you.

Your feet move automatically, rushing quickly out of the room and ascending up to where the attic floor is. You make your way down the hallway, slipping past Dipper and Mabel’s room to a hatch in the ceiling. You tug on the rope that dangles from the handle, opening it to reveal a set of stairs. You make your way up them before pushing a door that brings you to the rooftop ledge.

A gust of fresh air hits your face and you finally feel like you can breathe as you take a seat on the ledge. Placing a hand over your chest, you attempt to slow down your breath, inhaling through your nostrils and exhaling through your mouth. After finally grounding yourself, you stare up at the night sky, trying to make sense of what you just dreamt.

That was clearly a memory but why was Ford acting that way?

Why did it terrify you to the core, a knot in your stomach as you remember the yellow hue in his eyes?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car tires running over the lawn. You look down to see your car with its bright headlights illuminating the bottom of the Mystery Shack before shutting off. Stan steps out of the car, wearing all black attire and a set of black gloves, whistling nonchalantly as he makes his way to the trunk to pull out the car battery.

He hasn’t noticed your presence yet so you decide to call out, “Late night, huh?”

“Hot belgian waffles!” Stan semi-curses, almost dropping the car battery on his foot as he whips his head around before staring up to see you sitting on the rooftop in your pajamas. “How the hell did you get up there? Why are you even up there, it’s like 2 AM?”

“Did you really just say hot belgian waffles?” You can’t help but say with a tired grin, Stan’s antics taking your mind off your anxiety attack. “Had a bad dream, needed some fresh air… somehow I remembered how to get up here, my memory’s starting to come back somehow.”

“I try not to swear in front of the kids, come up with whatever euphemism rolls off the tongue.” Stan says with a shrug, “Guess today was a success, mind if I join ya? I can never fall asleep right away, got too much adrenaline in my system.”

“Sounds like you had a wild night, you sure you just got my car battery?” You chuckle before nodding at Stan’s question, “Go ahead, I could use the company.”

Stan makes his way back into the Mystery Shack, putting the battery near his toolbox to work on tomorrow before trekking up the stairs. He winces, his back aching as he makes his way up the stairs, cradling his lower back, “Jeez, I should really install one of those stair lifts at this point.”

“I don’t think you’re quite that old to justify having one of those.” You grin, scooting over for Stan to have a seat next to you, both of your legs dangling off the ledge. “If I did, Mabel would probably just put Waddles on it and have him ride up and down the stairs the whole day.” Stan chuckled.

“So any new embarrassing stories about my brother I should know about?” Stan asked out of curiosity. Despite them spending the whole past year catching up, there were still parts of Ford’s life that were still a mystery to Stan. Almost 40 years of their lives and they had just scratched the surface. 

“Well, I learned he drank about 3 beers on his 21st birthday and was pretty much on the verge of passing out.” You shared, tapping your chin, “He also got into an argument with a professor when they asked him to write his papers in print instead of cursive.” Stan chortles, “Yeah, that sounds like Ford alright. I got to see how much of a lightweight he is this past year. I had to carry him back to the boat after we had a couple of drinks at a bar near the dock.”

You laugh, hearing that time had not changed much in that aspect. “I’m sure there’s more. College is a lot more clearer but everything after that is still a blur.” You trail off, still having mixed emotions about it.

Stan shifts slightly before speaking up, “Hey, uh…I’m guessing you found out that you got your memories erased, right?” You nod, eyebrow raised in confusion at how Stan knows this. 

“Well, from one person who had their memories erased to another, don’t be too hard on yourself when you can’t remember. I swear there’s still stuff that the kids will tell me that takes me a minute to recall. Sometimes I don’t even remember and just try to play it off so they don’t worry.” Stan offers in a sympathetic tone.

“Jeez, Fiddleford used the Memory Gun on you too? How many people has he used it on?” You say in surprise, even more confused than you were earlier about the whole situation.

Stan sees your state of disbelief and chuckles, “I had the same look on my face when my brother roped me into all this. Ford’s actually the one who used it on me… it’s a long story but the point being is that, you’re gonna find out a lot of things that are gonna confuse the hell out of you. You’re also going to remember… a lot of painful memories.” 

“My brother and I seem close now but we weren’t talking for years… and I had to relive and relearn all of that when getting my memories back. It sucked, it felt like I was being punched in the gut every time.” Stan sighs before smiling sadly, “I’m sure you’re gonna feel the same way… I don’t know what exactly happened between you and my brother but I know Ford’s gonna try whatever it takes to make things right by you.”

“Thanks, Stan. I appreciate it, makes me feel less guilty for not remembering everything.” You say with an appreciative smile before shivering slightly at the sudden breeze that picks up. Stan notices this and shrugs off his leather jacket. Shaking your head in protest, you’re quickly silenced as Stan places it on your shoulders.

You bring the material close to your frame, feeling how warm it is from Stan’s body heat. “Thanks again, I’m really looking forward to getting my memories back..." You glance at your car, a reminder of your original plans for the summer. "Well, guess I gotta return all that camping gear I bought.” You chuckle, gesturing towards the camping gear mounted to the top of your car.

Stan looks at the gear and then back at you before offering, “Why not just go camping out here? There’s a campground like half an hour away we could set up at - I’m sure the kids would love to tag along too, they’ve been itching to do stuff while they’re here for the summer.” 

“Like all of us go? You think Ford would be up for that?” You ask, actually liking the idea of camping with the Pines family instead of going solo. 

“If he gets to spend time with you, yeah, he’ll go.” Stan scoffs.

You pause before grinning, “Guess we should start planning.”

[fanaticsnail]

Despiértame mi Corazon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,454

(Image Source: Actor: Alex Pettyfer + @fanaticsnail's dodgy photo editing skills)

Synopsis: You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again. 

Themes: mutual pining, sickness, love, Rosi is a daddy, Rosi is a sweetheart, idiots in love, friends to lovers, Trafalgar Law is a child, baby Law is an edge-lord, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, dancing, Rosi is a dork, sad ending (I’m sorry), Dance reference link here.

Notes: This is a gift for @writingmysanity. You get two Cora fics, because we both need it. The other, more happy one, is coming soon, sweety!! 

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @vespidphoenix @i-am-vita @sexc-snail I don't know if you guys like Corazon, but I hope this convinces you to love him.

Song Suggestion: “Wake Me Up” - Postmodern JukeBox

The air carrying the tide towards your feet felt as thick and heavy as the encumbering weight on your heart. Frozen remnants of falling snow stuck to your cheeks, your eyelashes collecting a small amount of dust to coat your follicles in the crisp breeze. Aside from the peace found in momentary stasis, your mind was racing and your soul screaming for release. 

Trafalgar D Water-Law was dying. The boy you took under your wing, the child you cared for, the adolescent who held your heart in his hands was dying. He was not going to make it without consuming the Op-Op Fruit, a cruel reality that had finally caught up with you. 

You were so close. So unbelievably close to getting his cure - his fate balancing on the edge of a knife in the steely grasp of Donquixote Doflamingo. A cure like this was not something that would be gifted freely, both you and Rosinante knew this for a fact. There was no amount of convincing, scheming, bribing, groveling, or begging you could do to gather this cure for the sickly child you both loved. It needed to be claimed by force, and claimed now. 

Finding solace in the small moment you carved aside, you allowed yourself the luxury of hot tears rolling down your cheeks: consumed by the grief in the dire situation you found yourself within. You were simply unable to carry the weight of these harsh and raw emotions any longer. What began as a small sniff through your nose quickly and quietly escalated into soft sobs. As the sorrow was released, you felt the weight grow heavier in your heart and expand to encumber your chest.

Drawing up your knees and cradling them against you, you turned your head away from the shack as your shoulders shook with each whimpered sob. You desperately hoped to any deity that was listening that you were far enough away from your home for the night to hold your sobs in silence, not alerting or disturbing your two companions as they lay in slumber. 

Stalking slowly towards you, aided in silence by his devil-fruit abilities, Donquixote Rosinante was approaching you in your sorrow. His hand stuttered forward, wanting desperately to place it down on your shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze in consoling your release of your emotions. 

He, himself, knew this feeling, and he knew this feeling well. Giving into his feelings a few weeks earlier, while drinking a vast amount of sake straight from the bottle. He felt helpless in the overwhelming devastation that currently held the three of you hostage. Desperate to provide you comfort, although not desiring to give you a touch you were not expecting, he halted his movement from descending upon your shoulders.

Retracting his extended hand away from you, he stumbled backwards towards the shack to check in on the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Clambering up the steps, he looked over the peaceful form of the boy nestled up in his blankets to keep warm in the cool night. Noticing the fluttering rise and fall in his chest, the subtle wheeze extending and catching in his throat, he felt the return of helplessness overcome his body. 

Turning away from the child, his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the surface of the steely frame of his radio, flicking on the valve to wake its static call. He began turning the knobs, seeking out a whisper of a song to drown out his circulating devastation and distract himself with. 

The rustling static did nothing to wake Law from his rest, but did alert you of the fact Rosinante was awake and skulking around. Hastily drying your tears with the inner sleeve on your wrist, you ensured you were the very picture of positivity should the leader of your expedition join you in the cool air outside the shack. 

Your relationship with the younger Donquixote brother was complicated. 

Pledging your undying loyalty under pain or death to Doflamingo in your youth, your proximity to the younger brother had you develop the swell of infatuation with him. Through the years, your heart always had a soft simmer threatening to rapidly boil towards the surface. He was quiet, he was calm, his skills as a fighter were a privilege to behold in battle, and it was an honor to fight beside him. 

Under the orders of the older Donquixote brother, you had done  terrible things that required atonement to cleanse your hands of it. As you were both introduced to the young child who wished for death to claim him, you both became as hardened as the other to force the will to live upon him in repentance for your transgressions. 

Watching Rosinante take the lead in Law’s care, your infatuation rose once again: a rise which prompted you to cast aside your loyalty to Doflamingo and aid ‘Corazon’ in the task of betraying him. You were in exile, hiding while searching for a cure for the boy that you only now learnt were in the clutches of the very hands you were attempting to flee from.

You loved him. You loved watching the lanky man fawning over the sickly boy. It had your heart soar and fly ever higher. The way he loved with his whole heart had a ripple effect, prompting you to open your own heart to love both of them even more. When Rosinante displayed his heart, it was worn on his sleeve and given unconditionally. And when you saw this love for others, it made you long to be a recipient of such devotion. 

The rise in static volume prompted you to turn around, glancing at the looming figure exiting the door of the shack, a radio within his hands. He placed it on the wooden frame lining the porch and gestured for you to come over to him with a subtle sway of his hands. You offered him a soft, melancholy smile and rose to your feet from the cool sand beneath you. 

No words were spoken as you approached him, keeping your head bowed from him as the static crackled and roared to life. A familiar tune from your youth rose in the speakers, your smile broadening as the lyrics shepherded you into a gentle sway. 

Rosinante’s outstretched hand flitted fluidly down to you, a small bob in his head indicating for you to place your hand within his own. You returned this gesture with your eyes closed and shaking your head in disbelief at his invitation. He smiled, reaching forward his other hand down and claiming your unoccupied hand and began swaying you to the beat. 

“What are you doing, Rosinante?” you slowly hummed your question up at him, brow twitching up in intrigue. His warm smile pulled you in, alongside the slow shimmied-shake of his arms with your own. 

“We’re dancing,” he confessed with a rumbled chuckle, his toes accidentally colliding with your own: both flinching at the contact. He shook his head, adding to his answer, “I stand corrected: we’re trying.” 

Although the mood was filled with sorrow, the sway of Rosinante’s awkward movements had your smile rising up your cheeks and eyes drying of their prior downpour. A small swell in your heart at his attempt to make you smile had your cheeks begin to pull upwards by the smallest smile you could muster. 

Everything about the way he danced with you was stiff, awkward and rigid: a memory rising in both your minds of earlier in your youth springing forward.

“You remember when we first danced together?” Rosinante asked you, his painted lips attempting to hold back a toothy grin. You giggled at him, ushering his body to spin in your arms and gently twirled his body. The dark feathers tickled your skin, a sneeze rising in your nose in response to the subtle brush from the inky follicles.

“I remember it being about as ah-... ah-... ahh-...!” you sneezed, shaking your shoulders as you turned away from him to save him from the spray. He chuckled as you recovered from your sneeze, continuing, “-As awkward as this one. You didn’t have your feather coat then, either.” 

“Oh, right!” Rosinante laughed, twirling his body away from yours and removing his feathered overcoat from its place on his shoulders, casting it over the wooden frame beside the speaker. “Alright now, where were we?” His pink shirt dipped in his chest, the subtle rise of his lungs and exposure of soft skin tempted a warm flush to rise in your cheeks. You shook your head to rid yourself of such thoughts about your friend, recovering enough to plaster a small smile on your face. 

Swaying your hips and tapping your toes against the ground, you skillfully twirled your body to rejoin your hands within his. He gleefully laughed at your gesture, his own hips swaying to the beat and rocking his shoulders as the rhythm picked up. His knees were unpracticed and unskilled in this artform, but his enthusiasm overtook his inability to dance. 

Twirling his body away from you, he clapped his hands and began stomping his feet lightly on the floorboards. He tapped twice more before kneeling himself down on one knee, his other leg arched into a deep lunge in front of him. He placed his right hand on his hip, rising his left above his head and brandished it with a playful flourish. 

“Oh, we’re doing this one, are we?” your tone picked up, your brow arching on your forehead as you leant forward to claim his left hand within your right, “You remember how I tripped over your lanky legs when I did this last time,” you smiled, circling his body and hopping yourself over his calf lying flat behind him.

“I do,” he chuckled in return, following your movement with the lull of his head. His smile rose further as you playfully watched him from the corner of your eye. “You remember how we recovered, though? What we did to balance out the dance?” 

“Yes, Corazon,” you half-laughed, half-sighed, as you recalled how the evening progressed, “We drowned ourselves in several bottles of sake and laughed at our own idiocy.” Rosinante shook his head, rising to his feet after releasing your hand from within his. 

“No, mi amor,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from behind, “I meant this.” He turned you within his arms, raking his hands over your hips, hands circling over your waist and holding you firmly against his torso. You hooked your arms over his shoulders behind your head, shepherding him to embrace you further while swaying to the rhythm. 

Rosinante pressed his cheek against your own, your eyes instinctively fluttering closed as you felt the rise in his grin on your skin. His breath tickled the nape of your neck, you breathing along to his rhythmic pattern with each passing moment. 

You felt all of your worries cast themselves aside each moment he held you in his arms, all anguish and melancholy passing from your body and reigned within his embrace. The pressure of his own sorrows fled from him and onto you, the sharing of the emotional labor departed each of you in this moment to simmer and smother between you.

“Why were we dancing again?” you whispered to him, your lips almost making contact with the shell of his ear. You felt him shudder against your touch, instinctively pressing your back further against his chest and nuzzling into your neck. 

Spinning in his arms, his hands tugging at your shifting shirt as you turned to face him, his eyes widened as he sought out his answer to you. Humming thoughtfully, he finally located his answer in his memory.

“I think it was Doffy’s birthday, or celebrating a raid on some unfortunate-,” Rosinante began, halted by you pulling away and glancing into his eyes. 

“-I mean now, mi corazon,” you floated your eyes between his, looking for rhyme or reason within his steely orbs, “Why are we dancing now?” He stuttered in his sway, freezing like a fainting goat being startled by a loud sound. 

“Y-You called me-...” his breath caught in his throat, lips parting as he floated his gaze between your own eyes, briefly caught in gazing longingly against your lips. “You called me ‘mi corazon’, mi amor.” He held you in silence, his heart swelling and adrenaline urging his body against his will to surge forward. 

The air was tense, the deafening silence being broken only by the smooth rise in melody from the radio beside you. His eyes softened more, wordlessly asking you a question with his lips quivering and eyes frantically darting between your own.

A small nod from him, answered by a nod of your own was all the answer he needed to join his lips with yours, softly molding himself to your lips and breathing in your air. 

The world came crashing down around you, the realms of unanswered questions from your youth were retorted by the soft lips of Donquixote Rosinante’s pressed against your own. You squeaked against his lips, eyes wide and watching as, his were closed with his brows furrowing in deepest concentration. He hissed in a breath through his nose, turning his head by the angle of his chin to deepen the embrace. 

Raking his hands up from your hips, he claimed fistfuls of your shirt in his needy grasp. He whimpered against your lips, prompting you to reciprocate his passionate kiss. You felt his heart, his spirit and his worries pass from his body into yours further. This intimate and wordless confession had your heart racing at the impossibilities that brought you here. 

Slowly pulling your hands from his shoulders, you slid them down his neck and grasped the embroidered pink collar of his shirt and pushed him back towards the railing. As his beck hit the hard, wooden pillar, he gasped into your mouth and desperately clawed at you to hold you firmer. Angling his head away, he pressed lengthy kiss after kiss against your lips, cheeks and chin: a trail marked by his pink lip-paint. 

“I want you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering them above your own before pressing his own against yours twice more, “I want us. I want all of us-.” He peppered your cheeks with lengthy kisses, the smear of his lip paint rubbing against your skin and tinting your flesh. “-The three of us. I want to be our own family: go where we want to go, wherever our hearts take us. I want to forge a life with you and that kid.”

“What are you saying-?” you whimpered for him, your hands claiming his cheeks within them and ushering his face away from yours. He groaned, leaning forward and claiming your lips beneath his own before fully allowing you to push him away.

“I want to adopt Law,” he continued, his hand rising to your hair and caressing your scalp, “You already mother him, fawn over him and treat him like your own.” Your hand flew to his hair as he pressed a long kiss against your neck, “I want to do this, and I want to do this with you, mi amor. I want to marry you, to be yours and you to be mine.” 

“I want us to be happy, mi amor,” he concluded, a melancholy smile finding his cheeks as he dipped his brow down to seek out your eyes, “I will have you smile again: a smile mirrored between the three of us.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your brow, adding a muffled, “Three against the world.”

The shock of it all happening at once held you in momentary silence. Feeling the pull to confess your own adoration and wants for the future onto him, your lips formed words before you could withhold them in your throat. 

“When this nightmare is all over,” you gasped, tugging at his blond locks to subtly weave him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “When we wake up from the darkness,” you slowly caressed his cheek, your thumb finding his bottom lip and attempting to press the paint within the boundaries of his lip line, “I want all of that with you, mi corazon.” 

At your confession, Donquixote Rosinante’s heart soared for you and his tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. He truly didn’t know those words were needed to grace his ears and soothe his mind, but so thankful you formed them. 

He loved you from the moment he met you all those years ago. The urge to protect you from the evil his brother ushered into the world was so strong, he nearly broke the mask he made while infiltrating the crew. Seeing you hold your own against them, your skill in combat ushering a swift death to those who opposed you with mercy had him swooning at your kindness amongst the brutality. 

“Te amo, mi corazon,” you whispered, your lips again hovering over his own, “I always have, and I should’ve acted on it sooner. I just got caught up with the mission, with loving our child. You are doing such a good job with him, I want you to know that.” You soothed over his blond hair, brushing your nose against his while confessing your admiration further, “I love you, and I love Law so, so much-.” 

Surging forwards, the contact he made with your lips was wet: the stale aftertaste of his last cigarette was eclipsed by the salty tears falling over his lips. He didn’t know when his tears started to fall, nor did you grasp when your own intertwined with his against your lips. You laughed against his lips, feeling the lingering tingle of affection spark and ignite in your chest. He swooned for you, raking desperately at your body to hold you as close as he could without breaking through the material of your clothes. 

You broke away from his lips, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure adoration and love. His own unspoken confession lingered in the air, the atmosphere tense and swollen with the lust-stricken adrenaline. The spark of the adoration tinting your eyes surged his confession forward, his words clumsily jumbled over his lips. 

“Mi tesoro, mi amor, mi familia,” he whimpered for you, his voice stuttering and stumbling over his words as he stooped down to you, “Te amo-... I-I love you. I love everything about you, and I should’ve told you sooner. I wanted to tell you from the day I first met you. I swooned for you when you danced with me all those years ago. My heart beats for you, and propels me to complete this task all the sooner to start this adventure with you and Law.” 

He pressed his forehead against your own, the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks at the confession had you both sobbing and laughing at yourselves. Sniffling and collecting your own tears on your wrist, and he with his, you both glanced up at each other and allowed your smiles to rise. 

“We will get this done, Donquixote Rosinante,” you hardened your resolve, nodding through every word, “And when it’s all over, we will be una familia- a family, mi corazon. The three of us. Together.” You held each other close on the deck of the small shack: swaying between kisses as the darkness plaguing your journey was eclipsed by the light rising between you. 

Hanging on your every word, a small sob hitched at the crack in the door, Trafalgar Law’s hand clasping over his lips to mask his presence. Law had never witnessed so much love pouring from one person to another. The fact that you both held such love for him too had him openly sobbing at the interaction. 

He wanted this too. 

He wanted to be a family with both of you: two absolute idiots that loved both him and each other unconditionally. Two complete idiots who were hardened fighters, pirates, and war criminals. His idiots.

He wanted this so desperately. 

He wants his imperfect, perfect family. 

But some things were not meant to be. 

Law would call on this memory often. Each time that melody played over his personal radio, his heart would both consequently swell and shatter as tears threatened to pour down his face. He wanted to wake up, for it to all be some horrific nightmare and still be searching with you and Cora-san for a cure for his illness. Your love was real, and he was thankful to play his part in it.

However small a time it was, it was his. His perfect, imperfect family.

[blue-jisungs]

Hey how are you!!! Hope you're doing amazing I always love your fics and now that i know you are also taking one piece requests I am taking the step of actually sending requests cause i don't really have much of an imagination when it comes to k-pop idols i just read the fics but never had ideas of my own but as an anime watcher i do have lot of ideas when it comes to my fav characters🥹

Feel free to ignore my request if it's too much

So as you mentioned that you were in skypedia arc meaning you have completed alabasta meaning you know ace😁

So i was wondering if you would be able to write a modern au where ace and luffy meet go to a cafe where the reader is the owner and ace falls for the reader first like he loves her food and wants to thank her and then is completely blown and head over heels for her when he see's them and talk with them it would be amazing if the reader is gender neutral so that everyone can enjoy it thanks for going throught this hope you can do it take care!!!!!!!

a way to man’s heart…

# author's note ... IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM SO HAPPY FOR SOME OP REQS:( i hope this meets ur expectations!!!! :D

# extras ... a lot of food; gn! reader; modern au :D

“so, luff, today’s all about you. the food is on me!” ace grinned and patted his younger brother’s back. luffy’s eyes widened and sparkled with childish joy.

“you’re really the best, bro! can i pick the place too? there’s a new cafe that has opened up–” luffy started.

“your wish is my command” ace hummed and the younger one almost jumped out of his shoes, excitement over the roof.

well, it’s not everyday when ace visited his brother. as he moved out for university, they lost the ability to hang out that often. but it was summer, meaning ace could return to his hometown and his family.

“sanji went there already! he said the food was delicious – and ya know, he’s a cook! he knows the deal. he also said something about the service people… but i didn’t really care…” luffy put a pointing finger on his chin “it’s not that popular though… i hope they are open…”

ace listened with amusement to his little brother, soft smile on his lips. he missed him a bit more than he’d like to admit – the absence of his energetic yells was almost crushing in his quiet, lonely apartment.

upon arriving, they noticed it’s a very small and almost hidden from the society’s view cafe.

luffy barged in, doors swinging open, a sound of a doorbell ripping through the air.

it was empty inside, only soft sound of jazz music filling the room.

“yahoo! anyone here?” luffy hummed, looking around. then he came up to the check out, eyeing the menu. ace went to pick a seat.

a gentle voice spoke out, drawing the brothers’ attention.

“yes, welcome, come in! how can i help you?” the waiter asked with a happy smile. ace checked his phone upon realizing his not getting any say in the food choice anyway.

“can i see the menu?”

after what it felt like ages, luffy came back. buzzing with excitement, he tapped ace’s souldwr repeatedly.

“that lovely person gave us a food testing deal, so i ordered literally everything! isn’t it just the best day ever?” the younger one grinned, giggling boyishly.

ace frowned and turned his head to look at the cashier but they were gone. it was a bit suspicious but he didn’t want to burst his brother’s bubble. shrugging, he put his phone away and focused on luffy.

after a while, the waiter brought all the food that took up all the space on the table.

“are you sure you’ll eat everything?” the waiter asked and ace looked up, suddenly struck by their beauty. the name tag read ‘y/n’ with a small heart next to it.

“duh!” luffy puffed his chest proudly and dug in, not realizing how mesmerised his brother was.

“enjoy your meal, then! if you need anything else just let me know” you smiled and went back behind the counter.

ace smirked, an idea blooming in his head, and started eating as well.

he was a good lover, that was no lie. he has eaten lots and lots of delicious meals but those… those tasted like heaven. this carrot cake or rice pudding… could top sanji’s cooking, for sure.

there’s a saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” for a reason.

while exchanging joyous nods with luffy, ace knew he’ll leave this cafe with more than a full stomach.

“um, excuse me?” ace called and walked up to the check out, drumming his fingers against his wallet.

you came from the storage room, wiping your hands against your apron. a bright smile painted on your lips.

“yes?”

“i’d like to order another thing” ace smiled and with the corner of his eye he noticed how his words peaked luffy’s interest.

“mhm, of course! and what would it be?” you asked, looking at him interested. he (and his brother) were definitely unusual clients.

“two cups of cappuccino and an orange juice. and a dessert… of your choice, y/n” he said smugly and leaned against the counter, his muscular arm flexing.

your eyes widened… then your brows frowned and nose scrunched. ace giggled upon your reaction and winked.

“you should join us, y/n” ace hummed and then realized one thing: you’re at work “oh, i mean, unless the owner minds it but i can take the blame”

“oh, no. there will be no need for that. i’m the owner and i will certainly don’t mind” you sent him a soft smile and saw his lips turn into an o in awe “i’ll bring the coffee and be right back”

“ace, can i have your brownie muffin?!” luffy yelled.

in a blink of an eye you arrived, steaming cups of coffee and an orange juice. placing them down on the table, squeezing the dessert too, you pulled up a chair and sat down.

“i hope you enjoyed your food?” you looked expectantly at luffy.

“my friend, if i could marry a meal… i’d marry them all!” the younger brother cheered and you laughed.

ace’s heart melted – the sound of your laughter was the cutest sound ever.

“thank you so much, i really appreciate it” you hummed, grabbing your coffee cup. ace did the same and his heart skipped a beat when he saw that you made a heart out of foam at the top of his beverage.

“so you’re the owner? is it hard to own a cafe?” he asked before taking a sip.

you chatted with the brothers for a long time, occasionally pausing to serve the other customers that would come in. or to deliver more food for luffy.

ace fell for you with each word, gesture… everything you did.

before you realized it was the closing hour, sun setting behind the windows.

“we’ll get going, this guy has an important exam that he has to cram for!” luffy whined, puffing his cheeks and pointing at ace “i’d love to stay longer…”

“feel free to visit me whenever! don’t tell it to anyone but you might just be my favorite customers” you winked and luffy chuckled, packing his stuff.

“do you need any help though? we made a mess…” ace asked, looking at the table with empty dishes (and some stains from luffy’s messy eating)

“no, no, don’t worry. i don’t want to keep you busy. good luck with cramming!” you grinned.

“thank you” ace sent you a warm smile and pulled out his wallet to leave the payment since you already told them what the checkout is going to be (you didn’t mention you included a huge discount too).

when you came back from the kitchen where you put away the dirty dishes, the brothers were gone.

you walked up to take another part of the dishes when something caught your eye.

next to the bill there was a napkin with something scribbled on it.

thank you for satisfying my bro’s wolffish appetite! however i’d prefer to hung out with you without this rascal… call me? <3

xxx-xxx-xxx

masterlist <3

taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[un-local]

me, personally? discovery of new music. just found the sample to a one of my favorite songs from a few years ago. this week has sucked, but every time i listen to it, i feel like the burden is lifted a little.

my compulsive need to make stories, too probably. (not necessarily write them or finish them, but work them out like a puzzle in my head. i don't put pressure on myself to finish anything. i think it's mostly about the satisfaction of figuring out how the piece things together, which i imagine transfers over many hobbies)

and ive finally reached the point where a good savory meal is something i can truly enjoy.

ive spent a long time at my wits end. i dont really know what keeps me going anymore, but ive kind of come to peace with that. once i realized i didn't need to have a reason, that the only thing i had to do was get up the next day, it was almost... a relief? i dunno.

sending love, internet stranger. may tomorrow bring you at least one small respite

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now

[damnfandomproblems]

Posting a compilation of responses to Fandom Problem #5234

Anon:

PLEASE watch the Contrapoints video on Twilight. It is by a trans person named Natalie Wynn.

(anon includes a link to a YouTube video titled "Twilight | ContraPoints")

This video has changed the minds of tons of people who initially thought Twilight was "rape and stalking abuse", by explaining the history of where all this panic comes from and why people are drawn to dark fantasies. It changed my mind and I'm hoping it'll change your mind too.

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

Anon:

going through every point bc this personally ticked me off for literally no reason but i have nothing better to do. so. sorry if this seems overly pissy /genuine. (also typed this in my notes app so sorry for the lack of italics/caps in place of italitcs) 1. not wanting to see incest/whatever isnt purity culture. blocking tags/accounts that make you uncomfortable is something that is HEAVILY ENCOURAGED. the only people i have ever seen discouraging this are antishippers. what IS purity culture, however, is saying that EVERYONE ELSE should not make something because it makes you personally uncomfortable. as someone who was literally raised within purity culture, that is exactly the kind of shit they say. 2. fiction DOES affect reality! but not in the way you think it does. yes, propaganda works! but that is because it is specifically constructed to convince people of a certain view. representation is important because people who arent cishet white men exist and deserve to see themselves in fiction. but i think the best way i can explain it is this; if you were to watch Hannibal, would you automatically assume that cannibalism is okay? what if you watched a John Wick movie or Deadpool? Is mass murder okay? the answer is obviously an astounding no, because you are able to think about the media you consume. this is expected of any media that isnt literally a show aimed at children. There's at least one media btw. i'm not entirely sure about Hannibal because i've never seen it. 3. that is literally a coping mechanism therapists recommend. those are all UNHEALTHY and SELFDESTRUCTIVE coping mechanisms. you cannot compare the two. 4. if you are getting mad about porn then that is an entirely Puritan viewpoint. 6. "make the story frown upon it." if you cannot gauge for yourself that these things are bad then you should not be engaging with those stories. 7. last point isnt a proship issue, its a jerkwad issue. people who dont tag things are dicks, at least we can agree on that. however if someone doesnt tag something it is on you to block them. YOU need to curate YOUR online experience. (it may also be worth it to KINDLY send an ask about it. its the same as tagging flashing. sometimes people just dont think about it and sometimes people are doing it on purpose to be a douche. you need to block the latter as they are not worth your time or energy.) Last point was something you did not mention so im not including it in the list itself; if you were to ask a proshipper if they supported pedophilic/incestual/abuse relationships irl, they would most likely say no. If they say yes then they are just a pedo/someone who is okay with incest/an abuser. those people are not bad people because of the fiction they consume/create. they are bad people because they want to hurt people and do not see anything wrong with it/are not willing to see why they are in the wrong. apologies for any typos, ive reread through it but i tend to miss things.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Anon:

Op really just compared writing fictional scenarios with fictional dollies, a method of processing trauma that is recommended by psychologists and actually -is- effective at helping people process stuff, to alcoholism, street drugs, and socon which can and do kill people. You ever seen someone withdraw from alcohol abuse? I have. You actually spoken to a psychologist about friends who write things to cope after being raped at a party? I have. Are you still a clueless child? Yes. So take your moral panic and shove it. You're a kid but if you want to get involved in serious adult conversations, you need to be prepared to accept discussing serious, real things. You can't even look at a rapefic without getting triggered (I use this word in the proper sense, not hyperbolic sense) and ascribing blown-out-of-proportion, emotional judgments on people who, if you passed them on the street, wouldn't stand out to you at all. Because these are normal people. This to me is a huge sign you're just not ready for this kind of conversation.

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

Anon:

"...really ticks me off how someone can say "It's really fucking gross how you wanna see a minor and an adult make out" and proshippers can be like "UGH PURITY CULTURE" Like, how is not wanting to see pedophilia and incest purity culture. Especially when you're a minor. dumbass I was a minor when I wanted to se OCs modeled after myself hooking up with the hot adult leads from my shows. I wasn't stupid enough to think it was OK to happen in real life but if Dream of the Endless was in an arranged marriage with my OC for reasons I wanted to see it. Like. "Minors" have sex. A lot. And yeah, age gaps can be problematic in real life but on paper? Who cares? It's fake. It's not real. It's a story. Acting like minors are sexless little angels until the day they turn 18 is crazy. Minors want to see boning and they want to see people their own age boning, and sometimes they want to see people their own age boning That Old Man or Milfs or 1000 year old vampires or whatever. Not even gonna bother with the rest. Others can get that.

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

Anon:

Where to even start here? I guess I should start by saying that proshipper doesn't mean what you think that it means OP! It doesn't mean that we support incest or pedophilia, it simply means that we're anti harassment. I don't like incest or pedophilia. It's weird to me, and yet one of the most popular series, Game of Thrones, features both incest and pedophilia. Romanticizing villainy? Can I ask what your definition of romanticizing is? What if the story revolves around the villain? Like Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? Are stories like that not supposed to exist? What about the anime and manga called Overlord? What About Hannibal Lecter? What about the Joker movie? Do none of these have any value? Do you expect the villain to deadpan into the camera every 10 minutes confessing that he knows his actions are wrong but he's doing it anyways? And if the writers don't make their characters do this, are you going to accuse them of condoning their characters actions? Because I think it would be pretty dumb to make a villain out of character for the sake of, "I know this is wrong, but I'm doing it anyways!" Do you want no villains in stories? Is that what you prefer? For everything to be sunshine and rainbows all of the time? Because that would be really boring. Are there any true heroes without a villain. A bad coping mechanism? Really? So now you're a psychologist who knows everyone on the planet that knows exactly what everyone needs to get better? Coping mechanism looks different from person to person. What is important is that the coping mechanism helps you process your emotions and what happened to you and sometimes it is helpful to write your emotions out in the form of writing and sometimes that can be fanfiction. I am someone who had been diagnosed with trauma and depression and I'm currently doing therapy for this and taking medicine. You know what's helped me all of these years before I started going to therapy on a regular basis? Characters with a lot of baggage like me. They can be hero or villains. I don't care which it is. If they have a tragic back story and I'm all over that. Fiction doesn't effect reality? It can and sometimes does. You're right. But you know who's problem that is? Your parents, the school system, and whoever else never taught you that fiction is fiction. That characters aren't real. If your parents let the TV or Internet babysit you growing up instead of being a parent and teaching you right from wrong, or being able to tell fiction from reality, well then that is the fault of your parents. Do you know who's not at fault? Stranger on the Internet. We're not here to hold your hand, you are not entitled to that. It is up to you to curate your own experience and mind your own business. If you don't like something, blacklist the tag, block the person posting it or log off of that site and find something else to look at. You think you've debunked everything, but really you're just naive and living in a fantasy world. The world is not an idealistic place, nor will it ever be and that is why these stories exists to begin with. Covering up everything that is bad in the world won't ever make it go away and that is reality. Period. Let people cope the way they need to, and unless you have degrees in psychology, you have no right to tell people what they can and cannot enjoy. Again, I myself would never write or read about some of the things that you've posted about OP, but will I continue writing about my trauma? I sure will, because it is something that I am still dealing with many years after it happened and I'm sure others will do the same with the things that they've had experience with, too.

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

Anon:

OP, one of your top posts is an AO3 reference and contains a link to an AO3 fic. In case you didn't know, AO3 was directly created to be a host for fanworks that got censored by other sites. Functionally, it is an archive, like a library. And like libraries, it hosts anything that is legal to host under US law. One major driving factor behind AO3's creation was the "Livejournal Strikethrough Boldthrough", an incident where "concerned parties" successfully lobbied to get Livejournal, a site that hosted writing, to remove its "yucky fics". Guess what? Gay fiction got removed in the process because, surprise, certain parties found that yucky too. (I'm talking about conservative groups who are obviously very anti-gay and anti-LGBT.) Here's one post about it: https://pretentioussongtitle.tumblr.com/post/624690560646676480/like-wathever-antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx So... You can't say you're okay with calling to censor things, without looking at the full picture and where it ultimately leads. You're asking for a lot of collateral damage. And like someone else said, engaging in discussions about heavy, adult topics with strange adults on the internet (and most of us are adults, OP) is very dangerous. There have been a lot of cases where someone has cried foul about certain kinds of fictional writing, only for an "anti proship" person to walk up to them and groom them, and it worked because the kid was under the pretense that the person was a "safe, good person". Please do not put yourself in danger and get out of the spaces you frequent.

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

Anon:

It's interesting you use Lolita as an example of what to do "right" when it comes to depicting things. You believe tons of media must be censored or kept away from the light of day, yet Lolita is an example of what to emulate to prevent that from happening? You would be very shocked to discover Lolita is among, if not the, most notorious piece of fiction for censorship groups to attack. So I really don't know if you fully understand what it is you're arguing for, here. You're just a kid, so I'm assuming you haven't actually read Lolita. That's the first thing. The second thing is, given the fact virtually all people who are invested in censoring and banning media actually hate Lolita, but you seem to have a totally opposite, 180-degree opinion about it, I have to wonder if you've happened to find a lot of random stuff from around the internet, but have yet to actually put it all together and cross-check everything to see if it actually makes sense. There's a lot of stuff in your post that is either plain out wrong, poorly strung together, or contradictory.

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

Anon:

I'm going to look real tinfoil-hatty in two seconds, but I swear some of y'all antis in the notes are following tags like "pedophilia" and "incest" and that's the only reason you found this confession. Cause I haven't seen half of you here before. And if so, that's kind of weird. I hope I'm wrong. To be fair there's no way to confirm either way but I just thought it was funny because I can see it happening if not for the antis here, than for others. Gotta get that daily dose of outrage.

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

Anon:

""Fiction doesn't affect reality" So why is representation so important? Why has propaganda worked so well?" you're taking this statement too literally. fiction obviously affects reality. if you cry over your favourite character's death, well there ya go. fiction has just changed reality. it made you feel sad things. representation is important because it makes those represented feel acknowleged and because it makes their existence more known to the world. propaganda is designed SPECIFICALLY to heavily affect reality. a doujin artist does not sit down and think "hmm. today i will draw a loli hentai to turn people into paedophiles". ""Well I'm not gonna become a murderer just because I've seen people murder in pieces of media" Name one piece of media where murder was portrayed as unironically, fully okay." as someone not well-versed in shooters, fortnite. murder is encouraged in fortnite. the point of the game is to kill people. i'd also like you to name one piece of media where rape is portrayed as perfectly fine and dandy. ""I'm coping with trauma" Well that's an awful coping mechanism. If you have been traumatized by incest, abuse, or pedophilia, why are you creating/consuming content where those are all romanticized?" because the fact that they're not alone in their suffering is comforting to them? as an abuse victim, i like characters with abusive parents. it gives me a character to sympathise with and characters to absolutely loathe with all my being. now that i think about it, i like that i'm not suffering alone. other people acknowledge the things i, and other victims, have to deal with. there are other reasons, but that's one i thought up ""You're ableist for criticizing our coping mechanism!" ... You know what else is a coping mechanism? Self-harm. Alcoholism. Excessive drug use. Those are frowned upon EVERYWHERE, because they're self-destructive. So why is thinking adults and minors should be cute together (sometimes real life adults and minors, but I'm not gonna get into the whole RPF discourse because RPF is even more fucking disgusting) suddenly okay?" there is a difference between doing things that being actual harm and because the latter is harmless. besides... isn't this circular logic? this argument is based on the conclusion you draw from it. "proshipping as a coping mechanism is bad because proshipping is bad". ""Rule 34 and gross ships is always gonna exist!" In our current world, bigotry is always gonna exist. Doesn't mean we should stop getting mad about it." bigotry excludes a specific group of often-innocent people for no reason. rule 34 is just porn of fictional characters. completely incomparable ""I'm exploring unhealthy relationships in fiction!" Okay then! That's great! Don't romanticize it. Tag it accordingly. Make the story frown upon it. Lolita, the book, frowned upon the pedophilia and thought it was disgusting. Do that." nobody romanticises anything. most loli hentai just... depict a loli having sex. it doesn't depict it as this amazing thing that you should dp. most lolicons that talk nabout wanting to fuck... idk, klee from the funny gacha game don't actually wanna have sex with kids. it's omly romanticised in-universeww, if you will. it doesn't say anything about it being good to do irl. and on nhentai, we use tags. we have a lot of 'em, including the recent 'kodomo doushi'. you jujst have to take a look at the tags section of a doujin and search for any tag you may not want you can also filter them in the search bar. we tag our shit, it's just your fault for being an irresponsible fuck. "But you're not gonna do that, are you." we will. the importance of tagging can NOT be stressed enough anon, i am gonna be blunt here. you are not smart. you did not debunk shit. god will slam the pearly gates of heaven on you for this post

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Collection Day 2 - Din Djarin

Say You're Sorry

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word Count: 960

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, kinda fluff, male masturbation, dom!mando, orgasm denial (f), reader is a 'brat', Din uses reader to get off, playful relationship, cum swallowing, shower activities, things im forgetting, not beta'd, bad jokes

Summary: Din just doesn't think you're sorry enough 🤷🏼‍♀

A/N: I kinda love the dynamic between Din and reader on this one! Hope y'all like it! Tomorrow's prompt is Christmas Shopping, which I think will be with Whiskey, so look out for that. It will likely contain smut.

***

“F-fuck!” Din gasps deeply as he relentlessly bucks his hips forward. 

He has one hand planted firmly on your hip as he ruts up against you. You’re bent just enough for your bare breasts to be squished up against the cold tile of the shower. 

He’s instructed you to keep your hands planted firmly on the tile, and under absolutely no circumstance–he was sure to get it through to you–are you allowed to touch yourself. 

“D-Din, please!” You beg him for what must the the hundredth time today. “I’ll be good, I swear!” You’re on the verge of tears at this point. It’s the third time today that he’s gotten himself off while you haven’t been allowed so much as friction. 

“No, I don’t think so, cyar'ika,” Din’s voice is deep and husky as he tells you exactly what you figured he would. “I’m still not convinced you’re sorry. N-not my fault you like to be a brat.” 

You shout his name in agony as he continues to slide his ridiculously hard cock against your ass, your soft skin creating a heavenly feel against the leaking tip of it. His grip on your hip gets tighter and his breathing grows heavier with each thrust. 

“I am, Din, I’m so sorry,” you cry and let your head rest on the wall in front of you. 

“Show me then,” he says from behind you, his command as rough as his movements. “Get on your knees; you’re going to swallow my cum.” 

You feel your cunt throb at both the tone of his voice and the thought of being in such a position. You don’t hesitate to comply though, quickly turning around and sinking down as Din furiously fists his cock. 

Before you know it, you’re eye level with his throbbing dick, opening your mouth and looking into his harsh eyes with your teary ones. His teeth are barred as he tugs on himself, and the sight makes you whine. 

His broad body is stopping the flow of the shower from reaching you, and you’re grateful for that considering that it’s probably getting cold by now, though Din doesn’t seem to notice. 

You know he’s close by the way he places one large hand on the back of your head to steady you and get your mouth at the right angle. The pressure applies makes you whimper as you think about how easy it would be to just lean forward and take his cock into your mouth. 

You lick your lips when your mouth goes dry from the thought. Din apparently doesn’t appreciate that by the way he grips your hair and tugs sharply. 

“M-mouth op–fuck–open, cyare.” he struggles to get out. 

Though it’s a bit hard to decipher, you get the gist of what he wants from the sting in your scalp, and you immediately snap your mouth back open. 

You train your gaze back on his and find yourself melting in his deep brown eyes. Ignoring the way your clit throbs with want, you watch his tells that let you know he’s going to come any second now. 

You get an idea, one that may have him taking some kind of mercy on you, and you immediately act on it. 

You place one hand on his naked thigh and reach higher with the other until you can grasp his balls. He grunts an animalistic sound as you roll them around and give a soft tug. Your eyes widen at the sound and at the aggressive way his abdominal muscles begin to flex.

Before you know it, Din’s shooting his release all over your face, only about half of it actually making it into your mouth. He continues to slide his hand up and down his cock in rapid succession as you close your eyes and stick out your tongue, allowing the creamy white substance to splatter in ropes. 

Once you’re sure he’s done, you slowly open your eyes to find him panting slightly and looking at you with a gaze that might even be hungrier than before. 

“Swallow,” he says darkly, his voice thick with authority. 

You immediately obey, closing your mouth and letting his warm cum slide down your throat. When you’re done you open your mouth for him to see, and he nods shortly in approval before removing his hand from your head. 

He motions for you to stand up before he turns around and reaches for a wash cloth and turns the water up to a warmer temperature. He cleans the rest of his release off of your face with the damp cloth and a loving gaze. 

You both wash in silence, Din only speaking once you both step out to wrap each other in towels. 

“You sorry enough now?” he asks you. 

You give him a knowing look in return, trying to show him you’re annoyed, even though he could never really do such a thing. 

“Yes, Din,” you say sarcastically. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, you have to say it right,” he says, playing with you at this point. You can see the smile in his eyes. You have to suppress a smile of your own as you watch him secure his towel around his waist. 

“I’m sorry I said you look like a well-polished trash can,” you say through a fake sigh, barely able to contain your giggles. 

Luckily, you’re not alone because Din begins to laugh out loud, but you’re too busy gaping at him to join. 

“You fucking dick!” You exclaim, playfully shoving your hands against his chest. 

“You weren’t mad at all! I fucking knew it!” 

Din’s too busy doubling over with laughter to respond. This time, you’re quick to join him, the both of you ending up in a pile on the floor. 

***

Link to prompt list

@mandoalorian

[bullet-prooflove]

Vanished!Series Part Four: Live Ammo - Mike Duarte x Reader (feat: Joe Velasco)

Tagging: @resonmalvo @littleone65 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mydarkestsecretlol @evee87 @wooshwastaken @hearthockey @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @rosaliedepp @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @legit9thlunaticwarrior @kiwiithecrazybird @spooky-pomegranate @telepathay @weiwei0210 @spaghettificationandpretzels @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @magic-multicolored-miracle @cycat4077 @deekaag @cixrosie @upsteadlogic @imaginecrushes @anime-weeb-4-life @hey-dw @alwaysachorusgirl @nu1freakshow

When Mike finds you, you’re clad in a white haz-mat suit with a ventilator strapped over your head. He’s never been so fucking relieved because you’re standing in the midst of a fully operational fentanyl lab and every single person involved in the raid knows just how dangerous that is. When he does the walk through the crime scene, he finds himself standing in a side room with a camp bed and a bin that’s filled with energy drinks and fast-food wrappers. The outside of the door has three different locks on it. It’s very clear you’ve been held prisoner here not because your cover has been blown, but because you’re exceptional at what you do. The evidence of that is stacked up in bricks against the south wall, ready to be packed up and distributed.

“The Niners put pressure on Connolly to pay back the money sooner. It put him into a spin, he needed more product and needed it fast.” You tell Mike when you finally get outside into the fresh air. “He’s been working me eighteen hours a day. Locking me in before starting all over again the next day.”

You’re sitting on the kerb sipping from a bottle of water. It’s the first time you’ve been outside in almost two weeks and it’s nice to feel the breeze on your face. You’ve stripped out of the haz-mat suit and are clad in a white vest and black cycling shorts, your hair is pulled back into messy bun. You would literally kill for a shower.

“Can I… Can I use your phone to call Joe? I just need to see Leah.”

Mike kicks himself because that should have been the first thing he thought of. The problem is he has other concerns. You both left something unresolved during your last phone call, something important and right now it’s all Mike can think about. He slips his phone out of his pocket before handing it to you and stepping away to give you a little privacy.

You’re crying when he returns, and it breaks his heart because he fucking hates seeing you upset. He wraps his arms around you, clasping you close, his palms soothing over your back as you bury your face into his shirt. It’s been two months since you saw your baby girl and he can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.

“Sorry.” You murmur, drawing away and wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “She’s just got so big since I last saw her. Joe’s going to bring her home when we’re finished up here.”

Mike smiles sadly, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek.

“Mi Vida,” He says, his voice breaking just a little. “You know we need to talk about our other little one.”

You’d discovered you were pregnant again three weeks ago. It had started the same way it had with Leah, exhaustion, constant nausea, tender breasts. You were hoping it was the stress of the op but then you’d missed your period. You couldn’t believe it when that test had come back positive.

“My vasectomy failed.” Mike had told you during your last check in with him. “I checked with my doctor; all this time we’ve thought I was firing blanks, but we’ve been playing with live ammo.”

You both know what this means. There’s a very real possibility that Leah might not be Joe’s daughter and if that’s true…

It would be devastating for all of you.

“I’m scared.” You whisper, your hands smoothing upon the space where your new baby resides, the one that you and Mike made together. “All those fumes and chemicals…”

You had tried to be as safe as possible during your time in captivity, but you were cooking eighteen hours a day. You have no idea what you’d been exposed to during that time, how it might affect your unborn child.

“I know.” Mike says quietly, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “I’m scared too.”

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[proselfshipsafespace]

I only recently got into proshipping but I've been lurking for a while and have been anti censorship forever. I wouldn't really consider myself a proshipper, at least I don't feel like it? but I made an entirely separate blog just for this stuff. Do you have any tips for new proshippers? /nf

my best advice i always try to let people know is that proship is not a verb or a genre, its a stance. and you dont have to ship dead dove to be a proshipper, you just have to be like "yeah you can ship that stuff idc" even if its not your cup of tea. think of kink tomato (ykinmkato or your kink is not my kink and thats okay). even if you do that, you dont always cmhave to call yourself a proshipper. there are other labels out there that are similar to proship but arent.. yk, proship (anti-anti is the only one i can think of currently). if you want to interact with the community, the community is very welcoming and will be okay even if you dont feel as though you align with the term or rven were an ex-anti, as long as youre now respectful to those who do label themselves as such. if youre more on the sensitive side, i really recommend ignoring antis who try to argue with you because 99% of the time, itll just be like a cat chasing their own tail. another thing i recommend is also going through anti tags and blocking people or at the very least try to filter those tags out (i can give examples of tags if need be)

and of course, you are allowed to block anyone you please, anti or not. i always recommend to even antis aswell to block people you dont like or dont vibe with because its more of like a quality of life thing (for me atleast).

at the end of the day though, there is no right or wrong way to be proship. using the label is completely up to you and its not somethhing thats obligated or a choice forced upon you for this entire community is basically built upon discourse that doesnt really matter as much to the real world. thats my take on it though, sorry if this wasnt worded very well i kinda wrote this in a rush so hopefully you understand what im trying to say. anyone that would like to suggest advice for op is welcome to in the reblogs or comments

[thehypnone]

im always so nervous and paranoid everytime you vent about people using tumblr wrong lol!

im new here and im trying to learn and doing everything well but im still so afraid that im doing it wrong

do you have maybe some tips what to do and what not to do (like reblogs, comments etc), please? i don’t want to make anyone mad or something:(

tysm!🖤

first of all I'm very sorry I make people worried that's absolutely not my intention. unless I'm rambling about a very serious issue I'm just throwing it out and also this particular thing is not something I'd, I dunno, block someone over

I went through my notifications and got some examples, so I hope it's understandable. censored ofc, I wouldn't put someone on blast for this

also please don't make it a drama, it's just my opinion and if yours is different we can agree to disagree. I know a lot of people will agree with me, tho, because it's not something I just came up with and decided is right but it's the tumblr culture and it's just what is considered polite and what is considered rude at this point

under the cut

the point is that when you're reblogging something just to share it and express your opinion on it, and not adding any real content to the post, it should be in the tags

when you add something meritorical to the post that's supposed to stay with it through further reblogs by people (but make sure the op is okay with that, don't just go out there hijacking a post because you need attention), you use the comment reblog

and you do not reblog personal posts. not only personal, some posts just don't need reblogging. if you read someones vent and you want to op you're there for them use messages or replies. don't share their personal rambles

[saetoru]

About that entitled ass post about x reader, op was definitely wrong but a small point was made.

I agree with your response but I'd like to add that, unless you've stated that certain characteristics or features will be present in reader, certain kinds of ambiguity is necessary, especially in appearance.

To make a character completely void of any backstory or personality is just bad writing period but to add an appearance is a little ...

As a black reader, reading about certain things that are supposed to reflect the reader is genuinely disheartening. I'm talking about things like referencing imagery of lighter skin (such as refering to readers skin as pink, pale, creamy, etc) or something like a character running their fingers through the reader's hair or having a hair washing routine that can be done in the time it takes to have a regular shower. I know with people with big bodies, having descriptions of small, light bodies is also disheartening.

Bc, once again, unless it's been stated that those are a part of reader's appearance, it's a little unnecessary bc it shows that although it's x reader it's definitely not for us.

I don't expect writers to write about specific events or characteristics about different cultures and such bc that can also go south REAL quick if you aren't properly educated or aware but a little diversity never hurt anyone

I know that some people do this out of genuine dislike of darker skinned/bigger people but I know most people do it out of genuine ignorance.

Unfortunately, you cannot bring up including people who don't fit typical beauty standards (pale/light skinned, long straight hair, thin/slim bodies) without people telling you that not everyone has to cater to you.

But the thing is, we're not asking you to cater to us; we're just asking you to include us in your vision of reader. You don't need to add specifics of everything regarding different races or cultures but you don't need to add specifics that exclude them.

And then when we go to create our own stories that do envision us, we're met with so much hatred and backlash about it like that one deleted comment on op's post.

I'm sorry for ranting about this but it so frustrating sometimes when people don't understand this. I brought up something similar to this topic once before and got death threats in my mentions for weeks (that's why this is anonymous)

ALSO, I'm not accusing you of any of the things I've mentioned in this ask. Based on what I've read from your work so far, the reader is actually someone you can enjoy reading about without feeling excluded when appearances are mentioned

Btw I adore your rich boy gojo series and would love to continue reading your work ❤️

im afraid you missed my main point and also, u are talking to someone who is literally a POC so i am definitely not in need of a rundown of how important it is to write reader in a manner that does not perpetuate western beauty standards. writing a reader that is inclusive for people in a manner that doesn't solidify western norms is important, but writing a reader that is an all encompassing fit all type of thing in terms of personality and decision making is not

its not that their point ab mistagged gn! readers and white/western physical features weren't valid—it was, but it was sprinkled in their main point that writing reader with personality is an oc and is not belonging in the tags and writers should focus on writing generic hcs instead. they used the issue of race and gender and other minoroties to support their idea that readers have to be ambiguous from all fronts, and that is a very twisted way to use actual real issues to justify your tantrums ab not liking dialogue or what the reader chose to do. my point that i was trying to make is that writers are entitled to write however they please as long as they tag what features of reader are set there. if they mistag that, then yes, that is something you should bring to their attention (politely) because then it misleads ppl to think this fic includes them. but that also is not done through a rant in the tags because that does not belong in the tags

quite frankly, to pair racial and gender representation issues as comparable to not aligning with the choices a reader takes to develop as a character and to put those two on the same boat takes away from the issue of inclusivity. inclusivity of a reader does NOT equal to how they think, process, feel, and progress in the storyline. not fitting in with the actual character of reader is incomparable to racial representation issues and misgendering tags and etc. the latter are REAL issues. the first is simply complaining bc u did not see urself in a plot

the actual problem with their rant was that they were using REAL issues to justify entitled complaining and that is why i did not validate them in that. yes writing reader as white and not tagging it is an issue. yes giving little to no thought to poc readers in writing is an issue. yes mistagging something as gn! while using gendered terms is an issue. but they should not be the backbone to an entirely different argument that essentially censors people

[krillbeans]

Hii Krill, I think at this point I've learned the whole plot of Good Omens S2 through blorbosmosis (your reblogs lol <3), it's so much fun reading your tags, which was your favorite moment/line of this season?

Good eve Quim! OPE I THOUGHT YOU WATCH GOOD OMENS, sorry for the spoilers then! Thank you for reading my tags, which as far as i know primarily consists of "im crying" "i am going to cry" "im going insane" "stoppp stop ittt" and multiple sobbing emojis

My favorite moment this season was Before the Beginning, when Crowley and Aziraphale hunker down in Job's basement and Aziraphale absolutely obliterates that Ox Crowley offers him into eating. (Actually, all of the Job Minisode pfft) Also the Ineffable Bureaucracy flashbacks.

My favorite lines this season was when Beelzebub called Gabriel "Silly silly Angel" because it's adorable, and Metatron saying "For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." because there is so much to unpack from that!

THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!!!!!

[starryjkoo]

"stop saying armys hate jimin, solo losers 😌"

and yet armys* are out here crying over a taekook au being deleted/canceled to protect jimin from getting indirect hate bc 99% of this fandom can't separate fiction from reality.....

https://x.com/vkoobiezluvr/status/1876303393016393846

*i'm saying this as an army that doesn't like solos btw 💀

omg I was literally just going through the quotes of this tweet right before you sent this lmao 😭 was it really a tkk AU?? that’s extremely messed up if it was. I somehow missed all of this and I’m just seeing the whole squid games au thing now so my understanding of the situation is kind of vague.

you know on one hand I get their perspective. ARMYtwt has been miserable lately. I think some ARMYs underestimate the importance of this kind of stuff in growing the community and keeping ARMYs engaged, happy and united (as corny as I personally find it). Just talking about charts and streaming is not going to interest a lot of people, and things being so intense and miserable all the time is not great for moral either. If there was NO shipping in the AU and no singular villain I get how it could be okay and I can sympathize with the ARMYs who were upset that it got canceled.

On the other hand… we have literally seen this play out before, we have seen how many ARMYs do not have the maturity to handle it, we have seen how it led to JM receiving hate & how many ARMYs straight up did not care… imo it’s fair to be wary and skeptical - especially if the OP doesn’t even want to reveal their main account? Like sorry but that’s a major red flag for me. I can understand why they wouldn’t want to, but I’m not going to trust someone to handle something like this if I don’t even know who they are (my bad if i missed who the OP was?)

Also from what I’m seeing the ARMYs mad about it being possibly cancelled are being completely dismissive of why others are concerned in the first place, which isn’t a good sign that they’ve learned from past mistakes 😬 It’s clear their own entertainment is the priority here, which is fair enough, but it’s also why I don’t feel particularly bad for them lol. the majority of them also seem to be shippers of some sort so…

Anyways I see how it could be unproblematic if the right ppl were doing it but I don’t personally trust ARMYs to handle and run things like this atp so... it could just get weird/messy very easy and would be more fun for a small community to do together instead of the whole fandom, and yeah to your point the lack of care or consideration for what happened last time is just not a good look either. like some people straight up do not care about jm receiving hate, or entirely minimize it, which is so gross to me. maybe if they want to do stuff like this they should consider actually doing something about the toxic shippers that made the environment so volatile in the first place? 🥴

& if I’m being real here, no hate but I don’t understand why they want AUs in ARMY spaces so bad? I just think there’s other fun and interactive things we could do as a fandom tbh, and idk I just feel like some things are best left in shipping communities where they’re generally tagged and mostly only reaching their intended audiences but 😅

(OKAY I just wrote all that and then skimmed the quotes again and saw who one of the moderators was and NAH 💀 diet-solo tkkrs and JM antis were 100% involved in this lmao, I’m with you anon. I’m just going to post my whole response anyways since I already typed it all out, but that one moderator is 100% a tkkr and has been weird & shady towards JM/jkk a lot. im familiar with their little group of "ARMY" tkkrs too, so if they’re all involved in this, the AU being canceled is deserved 🤓 I hope it stays that way. sorry for being a hater but I’m so sick of these people and it's so lame the way that ARMYs keep platforming them. And yeah I'm 100000% wary of how JM would have been portrayed in this AU, it definitely would have been biased against him 🙄 just lame)

[skyburger]

LOVE when people reblog things but say in the tags like they disagree with the main point of it or "um op is wrong actuwlly" cause idk if its just how i personally see tumblr tags working but thats like. why did you re-share a post to your followers if you dont like or agree with it at all and you didnt even add commentary on it. Like why would u reblog a post saying "i hope u mean the opposite of this actually..??" no thats not what op meant hello. i havent seen anyone do this recently but i just remembered people do this and its a little funny to me like why would u do that.

Anyway unrelated but this is my official announcement statement whatever (most important of all time):

Just because i reblog a picture of some food does not mean i actually like the ingredients or the dish. sometimes i think it looks good until i read that they put fucking lavender or some shit in a cake. why would uou do that i dont want to eat lavender i dont really want to smell it most of the time but even if it was mt fave smell ever why would i want to eat that. hello? and also sometimes im like i know i would hate that hut it looks really pretty. Anyway this is my PSA:

Please do not assume i like such heinous foods as "mint" "peanut butter" or "asparagus" because i do not. sometimes i will reblog food becaus it looks nice and i do not endorse these ingreidents going in my tummy they are NOT yummy. to me.

i dont knwo why i would reblog asparagus because that Looks gross too tbh but. u know what i mean hipefully i got my point across

peace and love. here is an image i saved from cropped mgs memes on twitter when i scrolled through their entire account again the other day. i miss you twitter user bigbossbigmemes. i showed my mom some of them because i accidentiwlly said "i cannot believe i am living in a world"

↑ i cannot believe i am living in a world

and her favorite of the ones i sent her was this one

share if you dont think!

unrelated i asked my mom if she "kinned" big boss once as a joke like three years ago and i dont think she remembers this at all but i still think about it sorry to my mom. she said something like "yeah sure because he looks like a warrior and im strong too" which fair enouhh i just dont think she knows about the war crimes. i dont think she knows what kinning is either i dont remmeber how i explained it to her but i bet it was poorly. if she was big boss and me andnmy siblings were the shit twins + ex-president george sears i would be liquid snake my sister would be solid snake and my little brother would be solidus snake its important to me that you all know this. i havent actuwlly thought about thet in a while but its true to me ok.

unrelated: someone remind me to post a picture of my metal gear shower curtain at some point. idk if i ever shared it but its pretty awesome.

but thatse just abtheory. a game theory!!'matpat out!

[cloudcountry]

i created my own ikemen wrapped for 2023. this is how i feel about the routes i played by the end of the year!!

this isnt spoiler free so tread carefully!!

IKEMEN VAMPIRE!!

im sorry jean you would have had a higher rating if i DIDN'T play your route. i'm mostly neutral towards a lot of them but i ADORE the top four. it becomes even funnier when you realize that the top four are the only ones whose routes i have completed.

i played isaac's route twice, shakespeare's route twice, vincent's route once, and arthur's route once. i started comte's route only to drop it, and i am currently on jean's route!! i did not diversify my suitors at all JAHSJASGHD

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

one thing i remember about isaac is when he started to fall in love with her, the scene in the church when he tied that ribbon in her hair. i nearly choked when he called her darling, he was smiling so sweetly and holding her so close. it was such a tender scene.

( honorable mention to that certain fanart i was tagged in so many times that the op called me a true isaac lover or something along those lines. it made me really happy that so many people, even people i didn't know, knew how much i adore him. )

for will, my most memorable moment of him was when i realized i loved him after playing vincent's route. i hadn't cried that hard over a character's misfortune in a while, but will's always been good at giving me a rollercoaster of emotions.

( honorable mention to vio calling my love for will blinding, ive thought about it a lot ever since she said that C: )

my most memorable moment of vincent was when he tried so hard to make mc genuinely smile on her first few days in the mansion. he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable so he tried his absolute best to make sure she could be herself and be happy. he really is an angel.

for arthur, it is one hundred percent his apology to mc for almost biting her. i've never seen him look more like a sad puppy in my five months of playing and honestly, it was so nice to see him reflecting on his actions and actually being able to admit his feelings (since we know arthur isnt the best with that.)

( once again, honorable mention to my enemies to lovers arc with this man. he's really not as bad as he appears, he is one of the most tender hearted and sweet men in the whole game. give him a chance if your heart allows it!! )

even though i'm not done with either comte's or jean's route, comte's most memorable moment was when he called the mc strong in chapter one. it was nice too see someone acknowledge her situation and try their best to help her instead of biting her. side eye.

and on that note, i'm sorry jean but your most memorable moment is the only one that made me angry. i hate that he bit her and i hate that the writing just skipped past it like it meant nothing. im blaming this on the writing itself because i believe jean's route is a good route so far, but it would have been so much better if it had a different beginning. but if i pick one that was actually wholesome, i'd say whenn he took her to the field of lilies and said the flowers were very her.

i started playing on july 2nd, 2023!! and what a journey it has been ^^

IKEMEN PRINCE!!

my first route was yves!! i wanted to play licht's first but people talked me out if it because his route is HEAVY!! i ended up playing rio's, then licht's, then nokto's, then i played about halfway through clavis's before keith's route was released. i played keith's route twice and then hopped back over to clavis, and i'm currently finishing up his route!!

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

when mc chased after yves when he was leaving for obsidian just to tell him she loved him i was SCREAMING. i remember really admiring how much strength it must have taken to go to the kingdom that abandoned you.

for rio, it was 100% the discussion he had with nokto about how he doesn't want to be with mc because he might put her in danger by being with her, but ultimately he can't help himself. that was such a good insight into his character.

licht's route was. intense. and because of that it was packed with moments that i agonized over. but overall, i think what nokto told mc about how the closer she got to licht, the more she was hurting him stuck with me the most. it really showcased the bond between the twins and sent a knife through my heart :C

i actually forgot i played nokto's route and skipped right over him, and that probably says a lot LMAO oops. honestly i thought his route's pacing was weird but the romantic ending was very cute. the most memorable moment from his route wasnt even a cute one HELP!!! when mc straight up slapped him for no reason and he was like "oh so slapping me helps you huh??" and she was like " :(( no...." and then they made out like WHAT!!!

clavis is also a very memorable person, and after spending a lot of time analyzing him i know why so many people love him now. something that really stuck with me was his philosophy on government and how the current ruler decides whats right and wrong. i think the same about people in power so it was nice to see my sentiments reflected in a prince.

oooh its time for my favorite prince!! keith also had a lot of memorable moments and ive been sitting here for like ten minutes trying to pick out the best ones.

for nice keith, i'd say the moment when he told mc he would try his best to stop saying "a guy like me" and "i'm sorry" over and over. it really touched me because i know how hard it is to break that habit and it made me really happy when he said he'd try ^^

wicked keith was such a TEASE but the most memorable moment with him was when he and mc went out to that cafe and he actually answered a lot of her questions. i know that may seem trival but it felt like a sigh of trust to me and that felt really sweet.

( honorable mention to the scene were they gave mc the earrings they picked out for her during the christmas event, i actually cried. )

i started playing on july 11th, 2023!!

IKEMEN REVOLUTION!!

my first route was kyle ash and honestly i'd say for a guy i don't like romantically his route was very memorable. he's a great first route and if anyone is a bit indecisive as to who they want to pick i'd definitely recommend him!! ANYWAYS moving on, i played harr's route next, then edgar, zero, jonah, then i tried playing ray's but he was being stinky so i started lancelot's route.

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

like i said, kyle had one of the best route i've ever read. listen to vivi aka the ikerev authority people. i remember lots of bits and pieces from his route, such as his determination to keep people alive, his pig goo, mc making him soup so he wouldnt drink himself to sleep, his gentle care for her once he figured out he liked her, how he pointed out the full moon and told her she could go home and was happy when she chose to stay, how he waited until everything was over to let her know how he felt, how he DIDNT DRINK on the night he wanted to make love to her, OUOTUOROUGUOUROHGH IM TELLING YOU HIS ROUTE WAS TOP TIER. but the thing that stood out to me the most was how him and mc worked together to save amon, and furthermore, to uphold kyle's principles. it was so heartwarming when mc told him to stick to what he believed in (even if i wanted to punch amon's teeth out during that scene)

i would keep talking about kyle's route but i have to move!! on!! because harr's route was peak domesticity. the first time he took his mask off in front of mc is one of my favorite moments (i actually did a happy little dance when i saw the other half of his face ehhe) because it shows such beautiful trust in her and arghgougohugo INSANE.

the most memorable moment of edgar's route was absolutely when he was so hesitant to let alice hold his hands, but when she takes them so comments on how warm they are. it was such an emotional moment because edgar was definitely feeling very complicated but alice was still there for him. i love them together :((

( honorable mention to vio saying i was alice reincarnated when i talked about that scene were they were all calling sweets evil LMAO that made me very giddy ^^ )

( second honorable mention to edgar asking mc if she thought pickles were a wolf in sheep's clothing??? weirdo. )

i was intrigued by zero all the way back in harr's route, and i started to really like him during edgar's route when he was trying his best to protect mc, which was really sweet. absoLUTELY the most memorable moment in his route was when he was fighting against the magic tower and he emerges from the rubble with an injured arm and a smile, just to tell alice "i'm home." i was crying like a BABY. zero i love you. please marry me.

jonah's route is a classic and a fan favorite, and i can see why. he starts out being arrogant and hell (and its irritating tbh) BUT he melts so quickly under gentle love and care. anyways, the red army routes seem to have a theme of giving up your position for what you believe is right because it happened like three times okay!! and jonah became a "traitor" to the red army just to protect alice. it was him and her against cradle and i will NEVER forget that.

lancelot's first impression was really bad but after playing all the red army routes and finally, his own route, i've grown to like him a lot. what really sticks out to me about his route is when he takes mc away from the dance floor because they're being stared at and they have a heart to heart. he tells you a single white rose would suit her or smth along those lines and when i looked up the meaning and saw it meant hope and renewal i DIED.

i started playing on july 27th, 2023!!

IKEMEN SENGOKU!!

my first route for sengoku was mitsunari, then kenshin, then kennyo, then sasuke, then kanetsugu, then yoshimoto. the only routes that didn't bore me to death at the end were mitsunari's, kennyo's (i was actually shocked when the route ended, it felt like the perfect length to me), and sasuke's. i can't speak for yoshimoto though since i just started. i feel like ikesen has a tendency to reallyyyy stretch out the routes but maybe thats just me.

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

mitsunari was such a good first route for me, and the most memorable part of his route was definitely when he challenged nobunaga for mc. not only was it unexpected but i was so proud of him for betting so much on his plan AHGRHGG mitsunari my beloved.

kenshin's route was crazy but EASILY the best part was when mc rode into battle with an army of her own to stop kenshin from FLATTENING the country. she kicked ASS and earned the title "goddess of war" for what she did and that was so cool of her.

i played kennyo's route because of the parallels between him and kenshin and WOW i did not regret it. his route was phenomenal but the most memorable part was when mc and him buried the bell that kennyo had kept with him to remind him of all the lives he felt he was at fault for losing. it symbolized finally letting those people have their peace, and furthermore, kennyo's inner peace. it was beautiful.

sasuke really got me when he THREW himself into battle with kenshin after kenshin lied about him and mc liking each other. sasuke's desperation to let her know that he couldn't stand her being with someone else made my heart RACE. it was so nice to see a suitor finally being on the more "selfish" side.

kanetsugu's route had the Wonderful experience of mc carrying a head!! a decapitated head!! and while i'm sure he has a lot of cute moments (one of them being when he told mc he loved her and she FREAKED OUT) I CANNOT GET OVER MC PICKING UP A DECAPITATED HEAD LIKE ITS NOTHING!!! shes a trooper.

yoshimoto's route gives you the unique (and memorable!!) experience of a warlord actually viewing you as a friend instead of an enemy!! (keep in mind this is coming from someone who has only played ONE oda forces route. im constantly on the "enemy side" oops) i thought his mindset was very refreshing after months of "oh nooo we cant see each other we're enemiesssss"

i started playing on july 27th, 2023!!

this took me so long to write oh my goodness. it was fun though!! im thinking about how all of this information is only five months worth of playing so i dont know how im going to handle TWELVE MONTHS PLUS A NEW GAME but i'll figure it out. i might leave the fandom before then idk!! who knows!! but anyways thank you if you read my thoughts i love sharing them even though i know its a lot hehehe

[shalpilot]

I feel the pain of x readers everywhere and that is coming from someone who

A) frequently consumes (or tries to) x reader fics and

B) even occasionally writes them

Its one thing to admit that youre writing a character very ooc and another to be constantly projecting your shitty sexual fantasies onto a character and warping them in a poorly written manner.

I try to only post my fics on ao3 to isolate them and also want you to know that i know its bad writing and im sorry. I could go on some more about the oddness of the x reader/"selfship" community and their flooding of any tag ever but just wanted to let you know some of us are self aware

yeah I don’t have any problem with readers and genuinely for the most part I don’t have any issue with the writers. It’s literally just the inconsistent tagging that really gets me heated! I end up just being really liberal with the block button. I don’t wanna yuck anyone’s yums but when I’m trying to find fanart or discussion posts on a character and a massive chunk of the tag is just smut it gets sooooo tiring to scroll through. Literally no one could ever hope to get everyone to tag them with the same tag but *more* people tagging their posts with like. “Reader Insert” or “x reader” would definitely help. or maybe just not putting it in the main tags but I understand that there ARE people looking for them and that that tag is good for them as well as for organization on the OP’s blog. so tl;dr, I was being hyperbolic and I understand that it’s on me to curate my online experience but I wish it was easier!