#the fandoms i mostly focused on when making this was:

[proshippers-against-censorship]

Felt like sharing my experience with antis if that is okay? To start off I'm very anti-contact, I don't actually want to hurt anyone and I am very hesitant about aligning with pro-ship or saying I was technically one at some point. it makes me feel guilty and uneasy when I say that I enjoy producing and consuming dark graphic content, and that I sometimes (rarely) get off to it (most of the time it's like absurdist horror to me, still fun to read but very uncomfy) I am the Shinji Ikari of Marquis De Sade, more or less.

So basically I wrote a dead dove/noncon fic and would constantly leave long AN's about how I was doing sort of to vent/cope/talk about my artistic process. I have a rape fetish and was sort of playing into it a little with the fic. I confessed to this multiple times in ANs that I'd often edit or delete depending on my embarrassment or shame with how long they were, because they were LONG! I will get to this again later.

I really enjoyed working on this fic, as it was just my art piece of the month and due to the fandom it was for being very popular I got a lot of hits, kudos and even comments! The comments were very positive and supportive and made me want to keep writing, and I was just really happy, maybe a little addicted to working on this story. Like it felt good to get this much attention for it. So I wanted to see if I could find other people in the fandom to talk about it with.

I actually got in contact with someone who was pretty big. They didn't know I wrote this specific fic yet and I warned them it was really dark, thinking they wouldn't get upset. I was very much so in the mindset that they wouldn't think much of it. Looking around I saw the space was pretty anti-proship and I was like gosh, okay... I mean this isn't really proship tho like I'm not showing this activity as good and it mostly focuses on the aftermath and how it hurt someone sooo then I should tag it to get the people who are creeps and actually wanna hurt people away from it!

That... didn't work. It actually backfired. This person in the fandom I reached hadn't gotten back to me when I sent them a summary of my fic (that I spent five hours on probably!) at the time, but I did get negative comments telling me that I was gross, and someone else reassuring me that the error in my tags was posted out of context and I just mistagged it and should fix it. I can't remember what specifically the tags said but it upset a lot of people and I saw how bad it looked so I fixed it, briefly acknowledged it then for whatever reason erased evidence of the mistake ever happening to prevent any further harassment.

The big person in the fandom got back to me! By which I mean she blocked me! Everywhere! Literally everywhere. Other people were blocking me too.

I wanted someone new to talk to. I was almost done with the story and I wanted someone to write with. I asked on twitter (where I found a lot of porn for the fandom I was in) if there was a discord for a specific ship in the fandom I wrote for and soemone sent me the link!

So I joined on my main account and the rules say "no proshippers, no dead dove writers. If we catch you for doing this we will kick you out of our server." I'm like okay so I won't mention I wrote this then! Just gotta make sure that one person isn't here....

She was. She was there.

So I dm the person who invited me. I deleted the discord this was on so I'll write the conversation from memory.

Me: Uh... is (fic writer) a member here?

Them: I think so, why?

Me: I'm sorry I can't join I wrote something messed up.

Them: What kind of messed up?

Me: Dead dove. But it's not fetish material or anything it's

Them: is it that one (main character) fic?

Me: :(

Them: Why didn't you just open with that?

Me: I'm sorry I'm really sorry

Them: You're lying by the way it says here that it is fetish material.

(they sent several screenshots of my now deleted author's notes.)

Me: Well yeah but like only partially.

Them: Do you have any sexual trauma?

Me: Yeah sort of. I was abused that counts right?

Them: Counts enough, I guess. Still this isn't a good way to deal with it.

Me: I'm sorry.

Them: And the way you tried to infiltrate the safer spaces by giving people a false sense of security? All the creeps DNI stuff? Completely messed up.

Me: I won't join your server I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I was just anxious I got scared.

Me: You aren't gonna dox me or come after me.

Them: No, we won't. Just don't post for this fandom anymore.

Me: Okay. I'm really sorry.

I forget where but they said "We don't want you here, dude." Which is just, fuckin suicide causing words. I also forgot to include the part where I said I regret writing it and they said "how can you regret writing a story you made 28 chapters for" and I said "I just needed to keep writing" they said "No you didn't" I left a lot out but that's the gist.

Anyway it's just awful to be made to feel like a monster because you don't know how tagging works and have a couple weird fetishes. Like, I see now how it looks REALLY bad but in all honesty I just thought I was writing a story that was a little messed up. I didn't consider that people might be upset by the poor handling of the subject, my fucked up sense of humor, or how it looks like I'm trying to hurt/shock them when in reality I was lonely, desperate for approval/attention and wanted someone to talk about my favorite show with.

Because of what happened, I'm now too scared to post about the show in question anymore. Like, I'm worried they might recognize my interests (I was dumb enough to not be anonymous and posted art on an account a few people saw and have a pretty distinctive style) and then like say "OMG ITS THE FREAK WHO POSTED THAT RAPE FIC DURING THE FALL OF 2024!" and like doxx me or something.

I'm like really scared. I genuinely love that show, even still, and I want to draw art for it and participate in the fandom without making anymore dark fetish content for it, but I'm really scared people will remember who I was in the past. Like I'm not even into an underaged character it's a grown ass man, I understand that rape is wrong, I mentioned a lot in the fic itself I don't want to hurt anyone, and I said it everywhere, I don't hurt people but these antis scare me I don't think they care that I'm harmless or a victim of abuse (so my fetishes changed a bit as a result) I don't think they care that I write this stuff as a way to relieve stress because the violence and cruelty is cathartic, freeing, let's me express my id freely.

I want to keep writing for this fandom, more dark stories, but I just, I'm scared to. I'm scared they'll see me again and hate me, hurt me. I want to draw, write, make art, make friends but these people they aren't welcoming and I completely understand why.... it's a largely american fanbase for an adult animated cartoon so I'm scared of the proship side since American cartoon fanbases are horrific.

I don't know, I guess I just want some comfort after all this happened, some reprieve? Some sort of reassurance that I'm not a bad person, I don't know. Some encouragement to keep liking this cartoon. I'm really sorry this note was so long. I'm sorry. That's all I can say. I'm a broken record at this point haha.

Fuckin hell I need therapy.

<3

[bruggle]

OKAY

Robotics revolution and its consequences + Elpizio is terrible rant!

Let's go!

Now, to preface all of this, this is mainly focusing on MMX and MMZ. Classic Era is... I mean... Wily is basically a SatAM villain. He doesn't REALLY try super hard to hurt anyone. He just wants people to respect him and to beat Dr. Light once and for all. (Until he goes senile and decides to make the Maverick Virus...)

And then ZX is... well, it's a kind of a final nail in the coffin because technically speaking, humans ARE extinct by then. Replaced with humanoids who have been ship of Theseus'd to contend better with reploids.

So this is mainly focusing on MMX/Z and the constant genocide of human beings.

Because yeah.

Each Maverick War is an attempt at genocide (except MAYBE MMX7 because that one seems centralized to one place.) But I think the fandom as a whole forgets that we literally only see one small snippet of the Maverick Wars. There is an entire warfront going on, and we only follow X, Zero, (and later Axl) through their efforts on the front lines. There are countless other places being attacked. Countless other infected Mavericks trying to get at humans (because yes. The primary target of the Maverick/Sigma virus is humans. Other reploids are either collateral or seen as traitors.)

And let's not forget that Mavericks existed before Zero was found. That's why Sigma and his team found him in the first place. It wasn't anywhere near the scale we see AFTER the virus is released, sure, but like...

Guys.

Even they aren't really victims.

Yes, humans are reluctant to give reploids rights. But can you really blame them? You're talking about sentient beings made of metal. Between them and bones, the bones are ALWAYS going to break first. And humans LITERALLY can't do anything to defend themselves against a reploid.

It bullets worked, I don't think Rock would have needed a buster.

So that's a subtle world building nod that says "humans literally have 0 defenses against reploids." Because all busters in the first handful of games are quite literally attached to reploids. We don't get detached weaponry (outside of swords and whatnot. But why would you want to get close to a being who is capable and willing to break your bones like toothpicks?) until X7 with Axl's pistols. But even then, there's probably a good chance that wasn't allowed for commercial use. I mean... peace between wars is already fuzzy.

You don't want to be adding in angry humans finally able to do something to the bunch.

So there really is a forced reliance ON reploids just to protect humanity from the virus and deter uninfected Mavs from doing whatever they want.

If I see kid walking past me, 9/10 times, it would be a lot easier for me to grab them than it would be for them to fight me off.

The onus is on me not to take advantage of that fact.

That's WHY Mavericks are so terrifying to humans.

And when half an entire race collectively decides, "Alright, we're gonna try to kill all the humans again for the fifth time," yeah. I can see why they're reluctant to really entertain the notion of rights.

Is that the right way of going about it?

No.

But I can see where that can be terrifying.

(And yes, the virus in of itself is a massive tragedy.

Not all the reploids involved completely were like that before infection.

But that doesn't change the outcome, does it?)

And speaking of fifth time-

I think the fandom ALSO glosses over Eurasia's fall.

Mostly because canon does too.

But let me make this clear: we're told in X6 that ALL of humanity is FORCED to hide underground because of how bad Eurasia's crash impacted the Earth. That is quite literally an extinction level event. Already, probably 90% of ALL animal life is extinct by that point.

And already a vast majority of humans are dead; either from the impact itself, or the ramifications afterwards.

Because I really don't think there were a bunch of underground bunkers to start off with.

Why would you? You'd be a sitting duck there during a Mav attack. There are plenty of digging reploids and mechanaloids who are probably better at it than any digging equipment humans can operate. And the resources necessary to build something that COULD withstand a Mav attack were probably too lucrative to justify.

So you're looking at caves as your best bet.

Now, that isn't a pretty number either.

Mammoth Cave is the BIGGEST cave system in the world. Their website claims they have an average of 600,000 people visiting per day, with 400,000 in the caves at any one time. (There are a bunch of things to do aboveground there after all.)

So you're looking at MAYBE 2,000,000 people being able to shelter there safely if you pack them together like sardines until better shelter can be made.

And then the biggest single cave in the world?

Hang Son Doong.

People claim 40 747 Boeing airplanes can fit in there. Which is roughly around 231 feet long and 195 feel wide.

Which equals ~7,540 people.

So that's only another ~300,000 people able to take shelter there.

So you're probably only looking at 500,000,000 people saved from the getgo of Eurasia's falling.

That is the population of the Earth during the 1600s.

Eurasia is literally an extinction level event guys.

And I'm sorry. But reploids really aren't as devastated by mass losses of life as humans are. For a reploid, you're probably looking at MOST 1 year to build them (probably less though let's be honest) and then maybe another 2 years for their ai to be fully competent.

Humans take a minimum of 18 years to grow.

And then maybe 25 to safely reproduce.

One of these things is not like the other.

So yeah, the 90% of reploids lost in the Elf Wars is bad.

But the 60% lost is yet another extinction event for the human race. (And granted, that one is caused primarily by another human. Heck you Weil.)

But people act like reploids were most affected because their number is bigger.

And it is!

But they were probably already outnumbering humans 3 to 1! And again, they "reproduce" much quicker!

Humans probably went from ~1,000,000,000 (if we're being exceptionally generous) back down to 400,000,000! Less than what we're guessing survived the Eurasia crash!

It's no wonder X is done with his people.

And it's not like humans did nothing, too!

They tried saying "okay fine have the Earth we'll live on the moon. "

Only for Lumine to decide "haha nah :) Genocide :)"

Mavericks are not poor uwu babies.

They're literally harming a species that is facing extinction.

We call those poachers.

And nobody like poachers.

(And granted yes. This is only really applicable after Eurasia's fall, but still. If it's before X5, then it's harmful antisocial behavior. Because again, if you have the ability to kill something that literally cannot defend itself against you, then you're disordered at best. Malicious at worst.

Torturing kittens because they can't fight back is messed up.

Reploids attacking humans because they can't fight back should be equally messed up.)

Which leads to Elpizio (and arguably Craft) and why he's yet another genocidal Maverick.

No, he isn't infected with the virus.

I do firmly believe that the Mother Elf did her job before she was corrupted by Weil.

The virus IS gone.

But again, Mavericks existed before Zero was found. I like to call these Mavericks "Old-School Mavericks."

They're the types like Vile (Vava) and Elpizio. Reploids who CHOOSE to hate humanity to the point of harming them.

Because Elpizio literally states he wants to kill all humans (who yes, are still probably technically an endangered species. Only 100 years have passed between the Elf Wars and MMZ. That's only ~4 generations. And not everyone is having kids. No wonder Ciel is a GMO. There's probably a bunch of cancers and other shiz going on in the environment that may very well be killing off kids preventing them from reaching 18-25 years.)

Now let's take a step back, yeah?

Why do I think people need to stop saying Elpizio was right about Neo Arcadia? And what exactly am I referring too?

Well, Ciel wants to solve the energy crisis because she believes that will help stop the persecution of reploids.

And honestly?

I think SHE'S right.

And Elpizio is just projecting.

But people claim he's right because Ciel DOES solve the energy crisis, yet we've got two more games. So what gives?

Well let's look at the actual situation at hand, yeah?

Neo Arcadia wouldn't listen after Elpizio's stunt because OPE

Look at that

He has just attacked the one place humans can thrive.

Ciel living out in the wastes is an OUTLIER. NOT THE NORM.

Like I said, she is a genetically modified organism (terrible way of putting it, but you know) She is literally engineered to be more resilient to cancer, hunger, lack of sleep, etc.

Not all humans can survive in her place.

Area Zero IS quite literally the only other place outside of Neo Arcadia they have a chance.

So yeah.

It's no wonder the Guardians are panicking and refusing to listen to reason.

Elpizio has literally proven himself a threat, and they know he's a part of the Resistance.

Who Zero is also a part of.

For all they know, Zero agrees with Elpizio!

And is just lying to them about it to get further in!

They don't fully trust him!

But that said, I don't actually think they're entirely unreasonable.

If they WERE, as Elpizio claims they are, I don't think Harpuia would have returned Zero the Resistance at the start of Z2.

I think Harpuia was already contemplating the idea that everything he knew was wrong.

But that's a bitter pill to swallow, hence why he keeps fighting them.

But, had Elpizio NOT been a part of the equation, I do think Neo Arcadia would have eventually listened.

Because Harpuia has already proven they're not ENTIRELY all "death evil kill".

Now back to Elpizio and HIS psychology.

We know he read Weil's project. How he wanted to control ALL reploids as mindless slaves.

And because the Elf Wars happened, he knows Weil was successful. And probably knows that the governments at the time AGREED to give Weil Zero's body. It is understandable why he's mad at humans.

But that was also 100 years ago.

And governments aren't necessarily always their people, are they?

Tyrants do exist. ((And yes if you try making this a political thing, you're also getting blocked.))

Copy X is the tyrant in Elpizio's time. He's the one encouraging humans to treat reploids poorly.

Yet who does Elpizio blame?

Humans.

And quite frankly, I hate it when people act like Elpizio cared about Ciel.

He talks down to her CONSTANTLY.

Not even just because she's young.

Like...

The language he uses to talk to her is INSULTING.

I don't think he even remotely likes her.

He only tolerates her because one, the energy crisis DOES effect him. He would like another source of energy, please.

Two, she literally handed him something he craves, power. He at least understands not to trade scorpions for generosity.

Three, he knows the bulk of the Resistance is attached to her. She named many of them, after all! In a world where they're not even bothered with THAT. If he left her to die in the ditch somewhere, nobody would follow him.

He only lets her stay because to cast her out would make him look bad.

He IS a manipulator.

Genuinely.

That's literally all he's done with the Resistance since day one.

He's a lousy leader.

Ciel wasn't losing that many troops when she was in charge in Z1.

Yet we KNOW the Resistance was suffering heavily under Elpizio's leadership.

He doesn't care about anyone other than himself. He have illusions of grandeur and just...

Can't see anything else.

And also let's talk about why Ciel couldn't get Neo Arcadia to back off AFTER Elpizio's death.

Elpizio literally released the Dark Elf.

You know.

The thing that literally started the Elf Wars.

Yeah, I wouldn't want to work with the group who employed him either. For all the Guardians knew, the CIEL system would have made things worse.

Ciel was smart enough to recognize that and was giving them space.

UNTIL OOPS CRAZY OLD MAN WITH A CHIP ON HIS SHOULDER AGAINST BOTH HUMANS AND REPLOIDS COMES BACK AND TAKES CONTROL.

AND HE WILL ACCEPT NOTHING EXCEPT COMPLETE SURENDER OR DESTRUCTION.

HM.

SURE WONDER WHY THE CIEL SYSTEM DIDNT STOP THAT FROM HAPPENING.

And Weil only came back because OOP.

ELPIZIO RELEASED THE DARK ELF.

HOW CRAZY IS THAT.

Had Weil never showed up, I'm sure things WOULD have eventually calmed down.

Because again, Harpuia is not completely unreasonable.

Narcissistic?

Self righteous?

Absolutely.

But that doesn't make someone unreasonable.

Elpizio holding onto his anger, however, was.

[envihellbender]

“Put down the knife, I’ll carry you back to our room.”

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims

Summary: In a dark timeline where Jonathan Sims rules the Panopticon, Martin is kept prisoner for his own safety. Whether he likes it or not.

—

The escape attempt hadn’t exactly gone particularly well, but more or less what Martin expected. The panopticon was mostly off limits to him, he hadn’t seen anything outside of his and John’s bedroom for a while. The only place he had where he could just be alone was the pokey en-suite bathroom. He’d often sit in the dry bathtub, pull the curtain and scream into a pillow. John tore the curtain down to try and dissuade him with no luck. Usually Martin didn’t even bother to bring the pillow anymore. He’d do that for a good hour every night, he couldn’t stand it when John came back. He hated those four walls but when John was there it got much worse. Martin knew that outside of the doors the Archivists roamed free, and he knew that he was a tasty treat to them. But he needed to take that risk and try to leave.

When John brought Martin his lunch, he’d specifically asked for steak despite not being a big meat eater. It had to be lunch. That was when John was with the Pupil, their bedroom specifically was a blind spot in the panopticon, the only one that existed. This had been another attempt to assuage Martin’s fears, and when he pocketed the steak knife guilt rose through his stomach. That series of events resulted in him hiding in what seemed like some kind of deranged supply closet. His eyes shut tight so he didn’t have to look at what was around him. When the door was thrown open he swallowed, his breath shaking at the sight before him.

“I don’t… let me… go. I don’t like it here,” Martin said behind gritted teeth. His hands gripped the knife handle his knuckles ached. John stood over him, the eyes that spawned over his face being a horrifying source of green light. No matter where Martin stood, they always stared.

“Come on, Martin,” John attempted to murmur gently. His new voice couldn’t do emotion very well, it sounded too distorted to be reassuring. He reached out and Martin felt panic rising in his chest. He scrambled back until his back was against the wall, he lifted the knife higher at John’s neck. “Put down the knife, and-”

“The Archivists. They’re- make them stop-” Martin stammered almost incoherently.

“I’ll carry you. They won’t touch you if I carry you.��

“I don’t like it here.”

“We’re safe here. And… There is no where else to go.” All of John’s eyes focused on Martin’s hand that shook in front of John’s face. “I don’t wish to make you leave”

“I - I’m armed.”

“Please don’t make me fight you. I will win.”

“I can try.”

“I won’t bleed.” John didn’t need to point this out, it was clear Martin knew this. There was a look of defensive annoyance before he took a deep breath and came to a realisation.

“No. But I will.” He turned the knife on himself, his eyes filled with sobering realisation. His brown irises were aged, dark, they had absorbed far too much. He always seemed anxious and as if he carried too much, but not like this.

“No! No. Martin! No!” John spluttered, he leapt forward, he grabbed Martin’s arm and attempted to pull it away from his dark skin. Although, it just caused Martin to spasm towards himself meaning the knife jammed into his shoulder. As John tried to stop him Martin just stuck it deeper into himself.

“Please. Just let me go.” Martin ripped the knife from his skin and stuck into his neck.

“Do you mean…” John had tears in his throat, thick and desperate. His arms wrapped around Martin even as he was still and refusing to melt into John’s arms.

“I’d rather be dead than live in this-” Martin began only for John to interrupt with a shout that made him wince.

“No! No. Martin. No.” John paused and thought for a moment. He released Martin but kept his arms on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m- I’m going to fix you. Then we’ll go to our room. We’ll be safe there. You just can’t leave. The panopticon isn’t… Isn’t safe.”

“Neither are you.”

“I’m- I’m fine.” John stared at Martin in confusion, every one of his eyes struggled to understand.

“Not what I meant.” Martin’s words still didn’t make sense to John, but what did was the curt, sharp tone.

“I won’t hurt you.” He almost sounded like he believed it, but Martin gave a hollow, incredulous laugh.

“You already have.”

[kermit-the-hag]

fanfic tropes:

tagged by @cranberrymoons and @highkingpenny

FYI - I didn’t include the A/B/O option because it is spelled w/o slashes which is a slur for indigenous australians and I would rather not have that on my blog. So anyone I tag, please be aware of the slur. (Also it is D tier please dont come for me)

Link

tagging: @rhaenyyras (you dont have a choice sorry lol) @steviesbicrisis @killyspinacoladas @bettiebloodshed @dwobbitfromtheshire @munsinner @changemunson @scoupsahoy @corrodedbisexual @corrodedcoughin @navnae

[ladyhavilliard]

HOW DO PEOPLE DO ASSIGNMENTS WHEN IN FANDOM HELL

all i can think about is my little precious blorbos

[always-a-joyful-note]

This might be a controversial opinion, but I don't blame Hanamaki Sumire at all for her actions. That's not to say that I don't hold her responsible or that I don't think what she did was horrible (poor Ryu), just that she was a vulnerable woman manipulated by people who didn't care about her (namely, Torao and Ryo). And it's always....interesting to see how in so many industries - but especially the entertainment industry - it's women who bear the brunt of the blame or hate when their wrongs are either the result of others manipulating her choices or "equally" (so to speak) as bad as the male entertainer who did something similar. Do I like Sumire? Not really. But do I think she was the bad guy here? Also no.

[hakuryuu]

Oh wait you mean like original posts where you were expressing your thoughts? I totally understand that.

gjdjfjejf yeah mostly those! ive had my reblog tagging system on this blog for a long time though too so sometimes ill go deep into one of my tags and see something that i tagged with period-appropriate parlance and enthusiasm or with some classically Old Me thoughts and I'll sort of just have to take a deep breath. cringe is dead but by god im still working through it

[thepandalion]

new favorite thing for fics to do:

when the same thing is told through different povs and they hear the dialog bits differently (like.. one of them thinks he says "woah" all flat and unimpressed but then in the other guy's pov its "woah" because the other guy thinks hes all impressed and stuff)

unreliable narrator but in how they interpret each other's tone in speech

[hexiva]

Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep

There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.

I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.

Forums

The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.

Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.

This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.

Tumblr

You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.

There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:

Jcink Tinder

RPG Adverts

RPings

There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.

Reddit

Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -

Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:

r/DiscordRP

r/RoleplayPartnerSearch

r/roleplaying

r/Roleplay

Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.

Discord

In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:

roleplay partner hub

Rockin Roleplay

The Roleplay Garden

roleplay help

the roleplay connection

RP Central

Roleplay Central

Roleplay Hub

Barbermonger also has a Discord server

Roleplay Meets: Reborn

RP Hub

The Scribes Guild

DM Rp Village

cherry blossom! roleplay hub

DM-RP

Roleplay Round Table (21+)

The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)

The Roleplayer's Directory

If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.

Other

The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.

Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!

[megwritesriddles]

Tied to You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 14 - Praise & Bondage. Severus has a girlfriend and he's about as shocked as anyone about it. She brings something out in him, something loving, something experimental, but also something slightly more sinister.

Tags: Praise kink, Light bondage, Fingering, Dom!Severus, Lots of praise, Good girl, Reader is referred to as a girl a LOT, Established relationship (kinda?), Getting together, Fluff, Red flags, Possessive behaviour, Unhealthy/Toxic relationship dynamic forming, Ambiguous ending (kinda).

Word count: 3.6k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: I can't write Severus as anything other than at least a bit of a creepy little freak, even though this is mostly normal and fluffy!! Again this includes a lot of unnecessary backstory to set the scene!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being in a relationship was a very novel concept to Severus. It wasn’t something he’d ever really thought would happen to him until recently. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it throughout his life to various degrees, but he’d always resigned himself to the fact that daydreams would be the closest he would get. However, you were very real. He’d known of you since the first year, being in his same year group he was bound to have heard your name a few times, whether on registers or from overheard gossip at the Slytherin table. 

He’d never thought of you very much at all until the sixth year when you were in the same advanced potions class as him. The class was much smaller than in previous years, full of only the highest achievers in the subject in the O.W.L.s and this is where he noticed you. You were on the quieter side in class, but whenever you were called on, you gave the correct answers. You were obviously intelligent, especially at this subject, which intrigued him as a bit of a ‘swot’ as his few friends called him. He liked that you cared about studying, much more than most of your peers seemed to. It was also quite obvious even by a glance that you were a pretty girl. Once he’d started paying a little more attention to you, he’d overheard many unsavoury comments about you by his peers, about what they might like to do to you. But, you kept yourself to yourself, frequently kindly (but firmly) turning down boys who tried to flirt with you. He admired that you weren’t above a little threat against the boys who couldn’t hear the word ‘no’. Despite your withdrawn nature, you were well known as a member of the duelling club, a high achieving one at that, and so often were able to threaten the boys into backing off.

All sixth year he’d silently admired you. When the seventh year began, he told himself he’d let go of it and focus solely on his studies, but he’d never been less focused in his life. All the feelings he’d harboured for Lily for so long latched themselves onto you, becoming much larger and more consuming. They felt like a frightening entity on their own, following him around everywhere he went, trying to pounce on you whenever you’d make small talk with him before class in the corridor, or seek him out for advice on your potions homework, even though you always seemed to actually know what you were talking about. He should have realised something was odd about this, but he was too blinded by self-hatred to see the woods from the trees. So when you confessed to having feelings for him, he’d initially just sat and stared silently at you.

You’d caught him in the library, as you had taken to doing often lately and asked to sit. He’d agreed, expecting another odd question about the homework but instead, you’d sat there chewing your lip. His eyes had strayed down to the sight a few too many times, no matter how he tried to control himself. He watched as the corners of your lips tugged up a little. 

“I have a crush on you, Severus,” you’d admitted with a shaky breath. He’d just blinked at you. “Well… crush sounds so juvenile… I fancy you? I have… feelings for you?” you continued on. “I just figured I ought to say something before it’s too late, you know?”

And that’s how he’d ended up in a relationship with you. He was so shocked at the time that he can't even remember what he’d said to you in response, and it was too late to ask. Whatever it was, it had clearly worked, as you had pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek and the next weekend, he was waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks. By the end of that evening, you’d been sitting in his lap and kissing him with a passion he had never even seen, let alone felt for himself, his arms around your waist, touching you gingerly. 

The entire school was baffled by your relationship. His friends and even several strangers asked him how the hell he had managed to ensnare you and he had no answer for any of them even if he wanted to, he couldn’t understand it either. One day he believes he will never be in a relationship in his life, and the next, the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts is hanging off of his arm for all to see. He’s surprised how unashamed you are, not only to be dating him but with public displays of affection. You always hook your arm around his as you walk, kiss his cheek as a goodbye, sit in his lap in the library and sneak his hand up your thigh. Sex. That’s the part of all this that seems the craziest to him because all of a sudden he has an active sex life. You’re all over him, and as much as it makes his head spin, he’s always willing to indulge you. 

The first time you’d brought him into your dorm, he hadn’t known what was going on until you were stripping him down. Of course, you’d asked him several times if you could proceed, but he had just blindly agreed because he would let you do anything. He hadn’t told you he was a virgin until after you were done, even though he knew you knew, if from nothing else, from his very speedy performance. You’d been very sweet about it, as you were about everything, and snuggled up to him, falling asleep in his arms. No one had ever felt so safe around him before. He wanted desperately to keep you in his arms forever, and when you got up in the morning, he almost held you hostage but ended up playing it off as a joke. You’d just giggled at him and told him he’d be the cutest captor in the world, which he laughed off, but the thought crossed his mind.

He was having the most sex out of everyone in his dorm, which would have been completely unfathomable only a few months ago. It surprised him how voracious you were, you’d always seemed rather meek, yet you were dragging him away at least once a day if not more. It was a surprise that he loved. You’d created a monster, a monster that constantly loomed over his time with you. He wasn’t sure how he would ever cope if this relationship ended, not only emotionally, but also having gotten used to such frequent sexual activity. There was hardly anyone else who would ever be willing to indulge him, and you loved to, which made it a thousand times better. He felt desirable to you, a feeling he’d been inadvertently chasing his entire life. He was never going to let you go. Ever. 

You didn’t seem to realise how serious he was when he told you as such. You’d giggle and peck his cheeks and tell him in a sweet little voice that you’d never let him go either, but he knew you didn’t mean it quite like he did. You enjoyed his possessive streak, loving the way his arm would slip around you when a boy would stare, marking you all over as his. As baffling as it was to everyone, there was no confusion about the fact you were taken, constantly covered in little lovebites, his hands on you whenever they could be. He’d adjust your skirts and button up your tops, softly whispering how this skin was for his eyes only now. As he gained more confidence in public displays of affection with you, he’d grip your thigh in a possessive gesture under the table, and kiss at your neck in front of others, a reminder of who left those marks there. 

Severus was always up for anything that you recommended in the bedroom, surprisingly experimental despite his rigid routines during the day. You played around often, trying new things, different dynamics, different positions, and introducing various aids. As time went on, you could tell he was coming into himself as a more dominant presence, his initial nerves and shyness wearing off as he got used to you and the idea that you truly did like him and desired him. You were happy to submit to him and let yourself go with whatever he wanted from you. Every part of him was long and lithe and elegant, exploring parts of you that had never been touched before, deep within you. He loved to watch you come undone, taking immense satisfaction in the knowledge of his effects on you, effects he thought he’d never have on anyone. He worships you in the most sinful ways, and you worship him in return. Your roommates all hate the both of you, no matter how many silencing charms you cast. 

You’re a little anxious when Severus heads to Hogsmeade alone one weekend, no matter how much he insists he’s only buying you a present. You’ve barely been apart for more than classes since your relationship began, and while you doubt he’s off cheating on you, the distance still makes you unreasonably anxious. You pounce on him when he returns, telling him how much you missed him, not spotting his smug smile against your shoulder. He rubs your back and assures you he felt similarly while he was away, which he did, he’d been desperate to get back to you, for many reasons. He gives you a little box, housing a little silver necklace that he’d gone to fetch from Hogsmeade for you. It has a little ‘S’ as the pendant, his initial, another means with which to stake claim over you. He clasps it behind your neck and you’re all smiles as you declare how much you love it. Then you notice another little bag.

“Is that for your other girlfriend?” you joke, pouting a little. He laughs, kissing your cheek. 

“No, it’s for you my love, but we have to be alone for me to show you,” he guides you up to his dorm which is currently empty, most of his dormmates now avoid the space whenever they can because of the two of you. He brings you to his bed to sit in his lap and closes the curtains around you. You giggle, fascinated to see what he’s got, already making a few mental guesses. 

Although it hadn’t popped into your head as a guess, the small spool of rope makes sense as he pulls it from the bag. He explains that it’s a soft cotton material that is both sturdy and comfortable. He doesn’t have to tell you what it’s for, you already know, and you’re willing to give it a go, the idea already exciting you a little. He can tell from the way you begin to rub your thighs together slightly. He’s become fluent in your body language over the course of your relationship, by now he’s sure he could write the dictionary. He grins at you.

“So sweet already getting all excited,” he whispers, his voice deep and silky. You love the authoritative tone he uses to speak to you when he wants to be in charge like this, it makes your thighs clench even more. “Now come on, my love, how would you like your hands tied?” he enquires softly, rubbing a hand over your thigh. After a short period of deliberation between the two of you, he lies you down against the bed and starts slowly popping open the buttons of your shirt one by one, making his way down to untuck it from your skirt. He pushes the shirt open and down, palms smoothing over your bare shoulders. You sit up for a moment to let the shirt fall away completely and so that he can reach around you to unhook your bra more easily. Once he’s pulled the bra away from you, you lie back down. “Good girl, my beautiful girl,” he praises, gently folding your shirt up and placing it onto the ground, then setting your bra on top of it. He taps your hips, urging you to lift them, gently sliding down your skirt, followed by your underwear. His need for you is mounting, folding these items a little more haphazardly before he places them on the ground by the others. He gently holds your legs apart, rubbing a hand up and down your thighs. “You like the idea of being tied up for me?” he chuckles, seeing you already glistening with want. You nod and he hums. “Aren’t you just perfect? My perfect girl,” he coos, leaning down to pepper kisses on your stomach for a moment before sitting back up. You watch him eagerly, yearning for him to give you what you want. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists and lifts them over your head, reaching for the length of rope. “Is this alright? Your arms aren’t stretching too much?”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure, watching as he starts carefully threading the rope around your wrists in figure-eights. 

“I read up on how to do this, let’s hope I get it on the first try,” he smiles down at you. You giggle in return. He fusses for a little while, adjusting and readjusting so it’s not too tight, but that you can’t slip out of the restraints either. You’re sure he’s being a perfectionist about it like he is about most things, so you wait patiently. Once he’s happy, he sits back and looks at you, in all your naked glory, lying there tied up and waiting for him. He shivers and groans. “Merlin… You look like an angel, my beautiful perfect girl,” he leans down and leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck, reinforcing several fading hickies he’s left on you before. You moan softly and squirm beneath him, pulling at your restraints without meaning to, feeling the need to touch him. You’re surprised how quickly you feel the need to use your hands and he just smirks at you. “Be good for me and don’t fight your restraints, won’t you?” he murmurs. You nod weakly, ceasing your movements and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as his lips and hands explore your body at a torturous pace. His lips kiss patterns around and between your breasts slowly, leaving a litany of little marks behind to mark his territory, his hands slowly sliding up and down your hips and waist. “Your body is absolutely exquisite, I don’t tell you that enough, my love, sculpted by the gods, all for me,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another lovebite into the side of your breast. The praise flusters you, part of you wants to argue, but you adore the idea of him truly seeing you that way, and you believe he does. He continues to press deliberate kisses across your chest, his eyes shut in prayer. His hands brush your stomach, teasing you by skimming low and withdrawing. You sigh needily and feel him nip your skin in response. “Tell me what you want,” he orders softly.

“I want your fingers inside me,” you answer breathily, writhing a little but making sure to keep your hands still. You feel him smile and nip the skin of your sternum, by your fluttering heart. 

“That’s my girl, always so direct,” he chuckles, sitting up and spreading your legs once more. He gasps softly. “Oh… you must really be liking being at my mercy, hm? Dripping wet for me,” he smiles, rubbing the soft skin of your inner thigh. His genuine smile is a rarity, he’s usually so stoic and serious, that the sight of it makes you whimper for him. Oh, how crazy he drives you. “Shhh, wait like a good girl, I know you can wait, you’re more than capable,” you pout up at him and he smiles again.“Those perfect pouty lips,” he leans down and gives you a soft sensual kiss, his fingertips tracing patterns up your thigh as he kisses you. You want to wrap your arms around him, to slide your hand in his trousers, but instead, you pull pathetically at your ropes for a moment before giving up and focusing on kissing him. His fingers nudge gently at your folds, making you spread your legs further eagerly. The tip of his index finger slides up and down between your folds, gathering wetness and using it to help circle your sensitive nub. You whine softly against his lips. “Good girl, you sound so beautiful when I make you feel good,” he praises. He leisurely slides a finger into you, which you accommodate easily due to your high state of arousal. His lithe fingers reach places you’d never even realised you’d had before your relationship with him, gently stimulating the tender spongy spot within you that makes your hips buck. He adds another finger, making you gasp and moan softly. He strokes your walls for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch, which doesn’t take too long in the state you’re in. You stare up into his eyes, silently begging him to move his fingers, he grins back at you, his nose bumping yours affectionately. “What is it, my love?” you whine at his playful innocence, he gets like this sometimes, all smug and teasing, a monster that you had created.

“M-move them, please,” you pant, tugging uselessly at your restraints. He gives you a pointed look and you stop. 

“Okay, but you have to keep being good for me, I know you can,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly withdrawing his fingers and pressing them back in. You mewl softly, digging your heels into the plush mattress. His fingers move slowly and expertly from months of memorising your body, pushing up against that tender spot with each thrust. The room fills with vulgar wet sounds and Severus finally thinks to cast a silencing spell with his free hand. You blush, both at the realisation you hadn’t been silenced, but also at the nonchalant way he does magic while moving his fingers inside you. It’s oddly hot and he feels you fluttering around his fingers. “What is it, sweet girl? What made you throb?” he enquires, kissing your jaw. You giggle breathlessly, his fingers still working you.

“Just you,”

“I’m flattered, my love,” he purrs. “You’re so perfect for me, aren’t you? My dream girl, my perfect girl,” he mumbles between kisses against your skin, his fingers speeding up, making you whimper and squirm. He sits up, his movements never ceasing, to look over you. Your hands tied sends a possessive thrill through him, the more innocent thought that you trust him like this, and the more dangerous idea to keep you like this. “Look at you,” he hums. “You look divine, all flushed and needy for me,” he punctuates his sentence by beginning to circle his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You choke out a moan, your eyes closing for a moment. “You’re doing so well, my love, good girl, you must be getting close,”

“Y-yeah,” you moan, your back arching slightly.

“You always look so beautiful when you come,” he muses, intensifying his movements. Your moans pick up, louder and more frequent, your hands tensing and untensing in the restraints, wishing to grab onto something but unable to do anything but dig your nails into your palms. “That’s it, let yourself go, be a good girl for me like I know you are,” he coaxes. “Let me feel you come on my fingers, let me feel your pussy clench,” you gasp at his lewd words, your head growing fuzzier. It only takes a few more moments and you fall apart, your whole body shivering and going warm. You cry out his name in desperation, nails digging into your palms, back arching up off of the bed. He keeps going relentlessly, feeling you clenching around his fingers, driving you to the point of near insanity, wailing in pleasure before he finally slows down his ministrations. “You were so good, my love, so beautiful, I’m so proud of you,” he leans down, kissing across your chest once more, slowly withdrawing his fingers. You whine softly, your chest heaving under his lips as you struggle to regain your breath, your heart pounding under your skin. “That’s it, calm down for me,” he soothes, kissing up to your mouth and pressing a lingering kiss to your parted lips. “How was that?”

“Yeah, good, very good,” you laugh breathlessly. He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your nose with his own.

“Did being tied up make it better?”

“In some ways, it felt more intense, more submissive than I usually am, but I did miss touching you,” you explain quietly. He nods along in understanding. “But I’ll happily do it again, I just need some recovery time,” you smile sheepishly, and he kisses your cheek. 

“I understand, my love, you’ve been a very good girl, no more tonight, my perfect girl must be tired,” he hums. He leans up and loosens your restraints, placing placating kisses on your wrists where the rope had been rubbing slightly, but he doesn’t entirely remove the rope, just gently massaging your wrists with his thumbs for a moment.

“Are you going to untie me?” you ask playfully. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before fiddling with the rope again. He secures your wrists to the headboard of his bed, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “You said no more tonight,”

“I know, my love, and I stick to it, but I think I’ll keep you here anyway,”

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[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Styled for You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: General Audience

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: good thing you can do hair…professionally at that

Being a hairstylist while juggling college was already hectic enough, but somehow, I always found myself in the most unexpected situations. Today was no different.

I’d barely stepped out of my last class when my phone buzzed with an urgent text from Tasha, one of my mentors in the beauty industry.

Tasha: Hey girl, are you free right now? GQ is doing a shoot in Storrs, and their hairstylist had a family emergency. They need someone ASAP.

I frowned, pausing in the middle of campus.

Me: GQ?? As in, the magazine??

Tasha: Yes, girl! I gave them your name. They need someone who can handle working with athletes, and I told them you were perfect. Can you make it?

My heart pounded. This was huge. I’d done hair for some UConn athletes before, mostly for local shoots and sponsorship deals, but this was next level.

Me: Yeah, I can make it. Send me the details!

Within minutes, I had the location and a contact to check in with. I ran back to my apartment, grabbed my kit, and drove to the the main set up spot.

When I arrived at the Gample, everything was a whirlwind of movement. Crew members bustled around, cameras were set up, and racks of designer clothes lined the walls.

A woman with a clipboard and headset greeted me. “You’re the replacement hairstylist?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m Y/N. Tasha sent me.”

“Perfect. We’re shooting an athlete today. She’s in the dressing room. I’ll take you to her.”

I followed her through the studio, weaving past makeup artists and assistants. The dressing room door was slightly open, and I could hear a familiar voice inside.

The woman knocked lightly before pushing the door open. “Paige, your hairstylist is here.”

I froze in my tracks. Paige Bueckers.

UConn’s golden girl, superstar athlete, and—unbeknownst to me—my client for the day.

She turned, and when her eyes landed on me, a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh, this just got a whole lot better.”

I blinked. “Paige?”

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Trust me, neither did I,” I admitted, setting my kit down. “You’re my client?”

She nodded. “Yup. They asked if I had any hairstylist recommendations, and I told them about you. Then, I called Tasha and told her to tell you”

I stared at her. “Wait… you recommended me?”

Paige shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Yeah. You did my hair for that Madison Reed shoot a while back, and it was fire. Figured GQ should get the best.”

I felt my face heat up. “Paige… this is huge. You didn’t have to do that.”

She grinned. “I wanted to.”

Something about the way she said it made my stomach flip. But I pushed that aside, focusing on the job.

“Well, thanks for looking out. Now, let’s get you styled.”

Paige had a few outfit changes, and the stylist wanted a sleek, but natural look. I settled on a smooth, laid-back wave look that complemented her features.

As I worked, Paige was surprisingly chatty.

“So, do you like doing this? The whole hairstyling thing?” she asked.

I gently combed through her hair. “Yeah, I love it. It started as a hobby, but I realized I could make a career out of it. Plus, I like making people feel good about themselves.”

Paige smirked. “Well, you’re really good at it.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, focusing on curling a section near her face.

A few moments passed before she spoke again. “What about basketball? You a fan?”

I chuckled. “I go to UConn, Paige. It’s kinda impossible not to be a fan.”

“True, true,” she said. “But you got a favorite player?”

I arched a brow. “Why? You fishing for compliments?”

Paige laughed. “Maybe.”

I pretended to think. “I don’t know… Paige Bueckers is alright, I guess.”

She gasped dramatically. “Just alright?”

I grinned. “Yeah, she’s okay. I mean, I guess she can hoop or whatever.”

Paige shook her head, amusement dancing in her blue eyes. “Wow. Tough crowd.”

I laughed, finishing the last curl before running my fingers through her hair to give it that effortless look.

“Alright, you’re done. What do you think?” I turned her toward the mirror.

Paige studied herself, then nodded approvingly. “Damn, you really snapped. Again.”

I smiled. “Glad you like it.”

As I started packing up, she glanced over at the clothing rack. “Hey, real quick—help me pick an outfit?”

I raised a brow. “That’s not really my department.”

“I trust your opinion,” she said, standing up and moving toward the rack. “Here, tell me which one’s better.”

She held up two options: one was a tailored tan creamn-ish suit with a crisp white shirt, and the other was a more casual but still stylish yet simple blue and orange striped cropped sweater like shirt with shorts.

I tapped my chin. “Depends on what vibe you’re going for.”

Paige gave me a look. “Okay, but if I was trying to impress someone…”

I stilled, my fingers tightening around my comb. “Impress who?”

She smirked. “Hypothetically?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling warm. “Yeah… hypothetically.”

She tilted her head, watching me. “Someone who appreciates good style. And maybe good conversation.”

Something about the way she was looking at me made my heart race. I pointed to the suit. “That one. It’s clean, classic, and confident.”

Paige grinned. “Good choice. Guess I’ll wear it, then.”

As she grabbed the suit and headed toward the dressing room, she paused in the doorway. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

She leaned against the frame, eyes flickering over me. “We should hang out sometime. Outside of you doing my hair.”

I blinked. “Like… hang out, hang out?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, like that.”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped again. “I’ll think about it.”

Paige smirked. “Do that.” Then she disappeared into the dressing room.

I exhaled, realizing my hands were shaking slightly.

Working this gig was one thing. But catching the attention of Paige Bueckers?

Yeah. I definitely needed to think about that.

By the time the shoot wrapped, I was exhausted but buzzing with energy. Watching Paige in front of the camera had been mesmerizing—she carried herself with this effortless cool that made it clear why she was a star.

I was packing up my kit when she walked back into the dressing room, grinning. “Guess what?”

I glanced up. “What?”

“They’re letting me keep some of the clothes.” She held up an orange, cargo-style jacket, the one she’d worn for a few shots. “And I’m giving this to you.”

I blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah.” She tossed it at me playfully, and I caught it against my chest. “Call it a thank you for coming through last minute and making me look good.”

I scoffed, holding it up. “You already look good. My styling was just a bonus.”

Paige smirked. “Still. I want you to have it.”

I ran my fingers over the material, feeling oddly sentimental. “This is GQ-level clothing, Paige. You sure?”

She nodded. “Positive. Plus, it looks better on you anyway.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. “Thanks.”

She grinned. “Now, what are you doing for the rest of the night?”

I sighed, stretching. “Probably crashing. Today was unexpected.”

Paige hummed in thought. “Wanna hit Target first? Late-night snack run?”

I raised a brow. “You trying to procrastinate your athlete bedtime?”

She grinned. “Maybe. But I also just wanna hang out.”

I hesitated for half a second before shrugging. “Alright, but you’re not dragging me into the candy aisle for thirty minutes.”

Paige gasped. “Why would you assume I’d do that?”

“Because you did last time I saw you at Walgreens,” I deadpanned.

She laughed, grabbing her keys. “Okay, fair. Let’s go.”

Target at 10:45 PM should be illegal.

Between the eerie quiet and the fluorescent lighting, it felt like we were sneaking around. Paige, of course, treated it like a personal playground, tossing snacks into the cart like she was on a game show.

“Do you actually need all of this?” I asked, watching her throw in another bag of chips.

She grinned. “Absolutely.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it, though,” she shot back.

I tried not to react to that, instead pushing the cart toward the refrigerated section. “Let’s just get our stuff and go before security starts side-eyeing us.”

By the time we left, we had way more snacks than necessary.

My dorm was quiet when we got back, my roommate conveniently out of town for the weekend. Paige flopped onto my bed like she owned the place, kicking her shoes off and stealing a pack of Oreos from the bag.

“You’re just gonna make yourself comfortable, huh?” I teased, setting the orange jacket on my desk.

Paige grinned. “Absolutely. Your bed is comfy as hell.”

I rolled my eyes but let it slide, grabbing my own snack before sitting beside her.

We ended up talking about everything and nothing.

Paige told me about practice, the stress of balancing school and basketball, and her love-hate relationship with social media. I told her about my classes, crazy clients, and the occasional bridezilla from the weddings I worked on.

At some point, the conversation slowed, leaving us in a comfortable silence. I was scrolling through my phone when Paige spoke.

“You know I meant it, right?”

I glanced at her. “Meant what?”

“That I wanted to hang out. Not just tonight.”

I swallowed. “Oh.”

She sat up, turning to face me fully. “I, uh… I kinda have a crush on you.”

I felt my heart stutter. “Paige—”

She rubbed the back of her neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I’ve had one for a while, actually. Since the first time you did my hair. But I didn’t know how to say anything.”

My stomach flipped. “You… like me?”

Paige gave me a sheepish smile. “Yeah.”

I stared at her, my mind racing. I hadn’t let myself think too much about the way she made me feel, always chalking it up to admiration or friendship. But now, sitting here, it was undeniable.

I liked her too.

I took a breath, gathering my courage. “I like you too, Paige.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “For real?”

I laughed. “Yes, for real. I just… didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

She let out a breath, grinning. “Well, damn. I was nervous for nothing.”

I smiled, feeling warmth spread through me. “Guess so.”

Paige hesitated, then reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers. “So… does this mean I get to take you on a proper date?”

I squeezed her hand, my heart racing. “I’d like that.”

Her grin widened. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting for an excuse.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t fight the smile on my face.

This night had taken the most unexpected turn.

And honestly?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[badgalsasuke]

My thoughts on the Naruto ending

So I had said I was gonna post about my feelings and thoughts regarding the Naruto finale that might contain a few hot takes for some people, so here it is.

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST.

The Naruto ending is universally disliked, there's not doubt in that. Veteran SNS shippers don't like it because Naruto and Sasuke end up with women they don't love and aren't attracted to, and believe Naruto and Sasuke could've end up "single" with no ships confirmed; younger SNS shippers that weren't there when Naruto was still coming out believe they should've ended up together even though that could have not been plausible due to the manga industry quite conservative practices. Het!shippers on the other hand, believe the ending is bad for two different reasons: the first being that some believe that Narusaku and Sasukarin would've made more sense than SS and NH (some say just Narusaku and Sasuke should've stayed single); the second being that although they like SS and NH and the potential they believe these ships have "but wasn't explored further", Kishimoto can't write romance so he messed up both ships, making them bland and barely romantic.

Another reason why the ending is disliked for non-shipping reasons and mostly by Sasuke stans, is that even though in the couple chapters before the 700th one Naruto and Sasuke talk about changing the shinobi system, we see in Boruto that the system has not been changed at all and instead Naruto and Sasuke are reinforcing it despite all the oppression and suffering they were put through it in its name. We even see Itachi, the man who committed genocide being lauded as a hero for his actions and zero reflection on Konoha as a genocidal State. Oh and the Hyuga clan still practices slavery.

So here I come to say the following: Naruto's ending makes sense.

Now before y'all tear me to pieces let me explain myself. The first time I read the finale I thought it was stupid, one reason being that the ships make no sense no matter the angle you try to look at them and the other reason being that Sasuke was now working for the same State that murdered his clan with Naruto now as the head of that same State and making no changes to the Shinobi system (not a very good look on him, right?), so I thought for many years that the ending sucked.

Then The Last, Boruto and Sasuke Retsuden came out and all I could think was "woah this is all really shit from the butt".

But then one day when I was thinking about the manga as a whole, mostly because I was starting to realize that Kishimoto was being intentional in his writing of Naruto and Sasuke's romantic bond and it wasn't accidental like most of the fandom thinks, I just started connecting dots and trying to make sense of the whole story and seeing how the ending fitted into that. I'm someone that whenever it comes to literary analysis and criticism always tries to think about what was the author intention before I label something as bad because it wasn't my personal preference how something was written.

And that's how I realized what there was theme to the Naruto ending is. It's all about conformity.

Now, don't get me wrong the Naruto ending still has flaws, two big ones in my opinion, which I'll point out further down the post, but what I want to do is show you the forest because I feel the fandom is mostly focused on a couple of trees when it comes to the finale. I want you to see the thread of events Kishimoto created and how he was trying to keep it as in character as possible.

So first things first. If you've read Kishimoto interviews over the years then you would know what was the ending he had envisioned: chapter 698. He talks about how he wanted Naruto and Sasuke to have their final fight, make ammends and change the shinobi system together. He achieved two out those three things he intended.

In a quite controversial interview that most of the fandom likes to ignore, Kishimoto stated that he had no emotional attachement to Naruto and Hinata as a couple and it was Studio Pierrot who had pitched the whole thing about The Last movie. He also states that he decided to make NH endgame after Shippuden had started and he had also considered Narusaku as well, but then in another interview that came later he started saying he had intended to make NH canon since the very beginning. He was constantly contradicting himself in these interviews over the years. Kishimoto has also expressed his distate for SS and Sakura's character in general in different interviews.

So what I personally believe is that Kishimoto's editorial, Shueisha, made him change his statements because saying he had no plans for NH and it was Studio Pierrot idea was quite damaging to the franchise (no wonder the interview got kinda buried too, lol).

I think the biggest challenge for Kishimoto was giving the editorial, the studio and most of the fandom the het!ships they wanted without compromising as much the characters the story of his manga revolves around, Naruto and Sasuke.

So we get to ch. 699 where I believe Kishimoto is laying the ground for the finale we ended up getting.

In ch. 698 it seemed like Naruto and Sasuke had been able to resolve their issues and been able to talk about their feelings for each other. Something Sasuke repeats in ch. 699, a chapter entirely narrated by him. However right at the end of ch. 699 we get what seems to be a regression of what we had seen in the previous chapter.

It is implied that Naruto and Sasuke had an argument off-screen hence why Sasuke thought Naruto would not come to see him and bid him farewell before his atonement journey. What was the argument about is never really explained, some fans speculate Naruto was upset about Sasuke going on an atonement journey considering Naruto had pleaded for Sasuke to not be imprisoned and saw no reason for Sasuke to go on a redemption trip. I personally believe it had something to do with Naruto failing to come to terms with his feelings for Sasuke because, as we see right away, Naruto gives Sasuke back his headband and Sasuke says he'll keep it until they have their real fight which is interesting, to say the least, because didn't we just see their real fight the literal prior chapter? basically, we're being told Naruto and Sasuke haven't been able to truly talk about their feelings and put into words what their relationship really is about hence why Sasuke keeps the headband. As long as Sasuke has the headband, it will mean Naruto hasn't been able to truly accept what he feels for Sasuke. In essence, ch. 699 is Kishimoto retconning ch. 698 to give way to what comes later.

After chapter 700 came out we started getting so much content, both filler and canon, that tries to explain how we got there. Let's start with The Last, the movie that tries to explain how the heck Naruto ended up with Hinata.

The Last is sort of a hybrid, it's written for the most part by Studio Pierrot employees who had the idea in the first place and Kishimoto corrected a few things here and there and is also what for me, makes the ending flawed for one big reason: Naruto's character assassination.

Naruto is a shonen manga that's more focused and concerned on it's emotional battles and communicates it to the audience through it's physical battles rather than the powerscaling stuff Naruto dudebros would have you thinking the manga is actually about. So this means that Naruto, its main character, spends the entire manga learning about his feelings and putting them into words. That's what his story is mainly about; learning to love and to be loved.

The Last undoes this in the stupidest way possible. To give Naruto an excuse on why he always ignored Hinata they intend to make the audience believe it's because "Naruto doesn't know what love is" by writing Naruto not being able to differentiate between loving someone and liking ramen. This is absolute nuts. We know that Naruto understands what is love, what is not love and that love doesn't come out of nowhere, we see that when Sakura fake confesses to Naruto, he's able to spot right away she's not being genuine because he understands those three things. So this is the first flaw of the Naruto ending for me.

The second flaw is the dismissal of Kurama and Naruto's status as a Jinchuuriki. I find the most embarrasing thing about The Last to be that they had to put Naruto through a genjutsu so he could hallucinate "memories of Hinata being there for him but he was too dumb to notice" but it's even worse once you remember that Naruto canonically should not be able to be put through a genjutsu in the first place. Studio Pierrot had to break rules of Kishimoto's universe in order to give NH some mediocre development and to me this will always be the worst part of the finale. If you can't make a ship work within the universe rules, then why make it a thing at all?

Some people didn't like that Hinata is totally useless in the movie, but for me this is not a flaw, as it is entirely in character with who she is in the manga. Making her a mary sue out of nowhere on the other hand, would be a flaw of the story.

Now that I've talked about what I think are the flaws of the Naruto ending, let's talk about the things that work in The Last (and I believe is where Kishimoto put his input) to make the finale make sense. The first one being that Sakura is the one that pushes Naruto to be with Hinata. In the manga we see several times Sakura is insecure about Naruto and Sasuke's bond and being jealous of Naruto's spot in Sasuke's heart. Even Hinata is baffled by Sakura wanting to help her and asks her why she's doing all that because she knows they're not friends. We then see Sakura think about Sasuke (who's also conviniently excluded from the movie) and simply say "we, girls, should support each other", she wants Naruto out of the picture so she can have Sasuke for herself and she succeeded. It's also important to note that once Sakura got what she wanted she no longer pretended to be a friend of Hinata, she didn't even kept close contact with Naruto either as we see in Naruto Gaiden, Sarada and Naruto don't know each other like that at all, if Sakura was being a genuine friend to Hinata and Naruto, she would've kept her family close to Naruto's but she didn't.

One more thing that I find works about The Last is that Naruto doesn't passionately fall in love with Hinata, but instead is constantly guilt-tripped into liking her, which is more true to his character. You have a man already struggling to accept his sexuality, who also has his deceased mother's expectation of marrying a girl and on top of that is a pathological people pleaser, of course he's gonna marry the first girl that tells him she loves him. It makes sense this all happened while Sasuke was not in the village. Naruto panicked about his sexual identity and rushed to marry an "acceptable woman" in the eyes of the people whose approval he craves, as we see in the special chapter Kishimoto wrote that came out after The Last: the villagers fawning over Konoha's hero dating the Hyuga heiress.

Likewise, Sasuke not attending Naruto's wedding helps the ending not be as contrived or out of character of them. Kishimoto never wrote anything on why Sasuke skipped the wedding as far as I can recall, but in the episodes that Studio Pierrot made dedicated to Naruto's wedding we see a Sasuke completely absent and detached from the event, something Naruto dudebros use to dunk on him because that made him a terrible friend from their perspective, but as usual they're not paying attention to the full narrative Kishimoto is creating here.

Making Sasuke be happy for Naruto and attend his wedding and give him a gift and all that crap, would've made het!shippers and Naruto dudebros happy but it would be at the expense of his character and the story Kishimoto was writing. Remember, Sasuke had kept the headband all these time until he could have his real fight with Naruto, meaning he was waiting for Naruto to be honest about his feelings for him, so him not attending Naruto's wedding is a way to communicate to the audience (at least the part that's paying attention) that Sasuke is heartbroken by the news.

I believe this is why Kishimoto designed adult Sasuke the way he did and makes him dress the way he does as an adult. All black and depressing. I also believe that Sasuke will stop dressing that way the minute he and Naruto have their real fight, if they ever have it, that is.

Additionally, Kishimoto nailed making NH canon before SS would be canon. Naruto, as I stated before, is the one that struggles with his identity and feelings for Sasuke and the one that has the expectations to marry a woman so it makes sense that he would be the one to marry a woman first. SS becoming canon first wouldn't make sense because not only is Sasuke more outspoken about his contempt for Sakura, whereas Naruto remains polite and neutral to Hinata's feelings, but Sasuke also has no reason to be with Sakura if Naruto is still available, in fact, Kishimoto making Sakura be the one to chase Sasuke after Naruto's wedding because Sasuke never came back, as we see it stated in Naruto Gaiden ch. 10, is also in character for both Sasuke and Sakura, instead of writing it the other way around like SS shippers wished, y'know their whole thing about Sasuke coming back to the village for Sakura and apologizing to her because he didn't realize how much he actually loved her because he was trapped in the darkness blah blah blah (I think this is what happens in filler novel Sasuke shinden lol).

If Naruto is not available, then Sasuke is in a very emotionally vulnerable position and Sakura took advantage of that. You see the narrative Kishimoto is creating here? There's a thread to follow on why stuff happened they way it did.

Now, I mentioned before that the theme of the Naruto finale was conformity. Here's where I explain how:

The first thing is Naruto's physical appearance. Kishimoto liked to draw a young Naruto all punk and grunge. He even had already made a design of adult Naruto where Naruto looks, well, cool and HOT.

Yet, for the actual finale he gave us an ugly Naruto, but also a Naruto that looks tired and exhausted. How does this tie with the conformity theme? when Naruto was young he used to go against the rules, defy expectations people had of him, tell authorities to fuck off. Like, when he was told to give up on Sasuke when he was 12, Naruto responded "If giving up on Sasuke makes me wise, I'd rather be fool my entire life", this man was a rebel. But as an adult we see him become the head of State that continues to reproduce the status quo that had once oppressed him. Naruto turned apathetic, his appearance reflects his attitude.

And this is consistent with the narrative Kishimoto's been crafting. Just in the same way Naruto conformed to society's expectation when he married a woman he doesn't love and barely knows, he also conformed and succumbed to the shinobi world status quo. It would *make zero sense* for Naruto to revolutionize the shinobi world while married to princess slaver Hinata Hyuga, that'd be an oxymoron, completely contradictory narrative wise. Certainly, Naruto always struggled to find an ideology, to put it in some way, when it came to Konoha and its ninjas practices and had a messed up perception of its villagers (see: the whole Dark Naruto mini plot) but he still wanted to change the shinobi world WITH SASUKE by his side, once the story established they don't end up together and Sasuke isn't by his side, Naruto doesn't care anymore.

This is why I don't find strange that Kishimoto wrote Naruto oversleeping in the eve of his name day as Hokage, a day Naruto had once dreamt about when he was a child. The spark is gone.

But the spark isn't just gone for Naruto, it's also gone for Kishimoto. Naruto didn't even attend his name day because he was knocked out by Himawari. This is Kishimoto being petty. He spent 15 years writing a story where the goal was to see Naruto become Hokage and he knew how anticipated this moment was and he still went and ruined it for the fans anyway. Naruto dudebros were furious about this, but not once did they stop to wonder about the implications of this, what it said about Kishimoto's relationship with his work if it had gotten to the point he went and "fucked it up".

Naruto cared about the state of the world before he became indifferent to it. This is why when Sasuke stans complain about Naruto not actually caring about Sasuke's trauma but can never really explain why Naruto is like that as an adult. They try to pretend Naruto never cared but this is a lie, kid and teenage Naruto was compassionate to Sasuke's trauma and pain even if he didn't always managed it in the best way possible. So, I always feel like they're missing this particular piece of the puzzle: if Naruto can't be his true self then he cannot change the world and neither can Sasuke.

Because the same thing occurs to Sasuke. One blog once posted that Sasuke not caring about his child is out of character, but Sasuke not caring about Sakura's child is very much in character and I feel that sums up Kishimoto's writing of both adult Sasuke and Naruto. This passiveness you wouldn't imagine from their younger selves, takes a hold of them once they become adults and gradually "get in line" to be a part of the real world. Sasuke doesn't care about his child because he had her with a woman he doesn't even like or respect. Sasuke is stuck in time still holding onto that headband, hoping he and Naruto will one day have their real battle.

Sasuke uses the forehead poke, a gesture he always hated, on his wife and child because he, just like his brother to him, wants to distance himself from them. Sasuke now serves the same village that plotted the mass murder of his clan and family because why not? his brother is lauded as a hero for killing his entire clan after all. Sasuke too, has conformed.

I actually wonder if this is in some way linked to modern Japanese culture. Japanese culture and society are deeply conformist with everybody is always trying to fulfill roles imposed in them, always trying to achieve what is expected of them. It could also be about how adulthood sucks the passion and hopes out of the youth (Kishimoto started writing Naruto when he was 24 and finished when he was in his forties). And of course, the closeting of queer people leading miserable lives as pretenders.

If Sasuke is meant to end up with Sakura and Naruto is meant to end up with Hinata then Kishimoto cannot make them happy marriages and give them happy families, he also cannot keep Naruto and Sasuke as revolutionary outcasts that stand up against the status quo, that fanservice would be out of character and out of theme.

This is what I mean when I say the ending makes sense, once you see the finale is all about conformity the thread of events becomes understandable and more heartbreaking too. You don't have to like it, but I do think we have to understand where is Kishimoto coming from when he wrote it the way he did.

The Naruto fandom wanted black and grey from Kishimoto and that's exactly what Kishimoto gave them, black and grey.

EDIT: I've written more on how the conformity theme starts to become present in the series as far back as in Neji's death, check it out HERE

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[queers-gambit]

Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[charmac]

Earlier this month I asked members of the fandom to answer a series of questions related to the concept of "Canon Macdennis" — does it exist and what does that mean, if so, or if not?

I highly appreciate everyone who participated and shared their thoughts, as the concept of ships being canon in something like Sunny is a complicated and fascinating idea to me, and it was a lot of fun to pour through the results!

In short, the fandom is almost evenly divided on the idea of Macdennis being canon:

And this really comes down to a fundamental difference in interpreting canon as something that in the intent of the show (it is canon because jokes and/or plot rely on the audience reading their relationship a certain way), or something that is true to the characters (it is not canon because the characters don't acknowledge the relationship as such).

For those who believe that, yes, they are canon, I asked for Respondents to pin point the earliest season in which they are canon, and found that while results were a bit scattered, the majority sees Macdennis as being canon since Season 5 or earlier

Mac and Dennis Break Up was the most cited episode for the early Seasons, as may be expected, with the later Seasons heavily citing Dines Out or Tends Bar. In all of these episodes, Mac and Dennis are written to be viewed as a couple, clearly intentionally, but the divide on when this makes them canon seems to be at the point in which the viewer believes the intention of pairing them together "like a couple" isn't purely for the joke. Whether or not they're still paired to tell or perpetuate a joke is mostly irrelevant, because such a continuation of that, across so many years, makes it clear that they're written to be interpreted as being in a [extremely dysfunctional and fucked up] non-platonic relationship (and, in fact, many jokes and plots just don't work as well if you aren't reading them as a couple).

Those who don't agree that Macdennis are canon didn't report much on the idea of whether or not they're intended to be read as a non-platonic relationship, but instead focused more on the fact that Mac and Dennis, themselves as characters, do not identify as being in a romantic and/or sexual relationship (either because they won't admit it or because they truly don't think they are), and that is what bars them from being considered canon.

I asked those who responded no to Macdennis being canon to provide me with an idea as to what would make them canon, and responses were truly across the board on this idea: everything from 'once Dennis makes his feelings about Mac clear' to 'they have to be in an official relationship for the rest of the show' was quite evenly split. Even when narrowing the ideas down into two set categories, the fandom seems divided:

For some, it's just about getting a physically consensual act between the two and for some it's just about getting Dennis' admitted feelings, but for many it's about both of these ideas being continuing and genuine, as many expressed that they see Dennis having admitted feelings as a minimum expectation, but the two of them hooking up as a minimum standard for canon. But, unless Sunny becomes a completely different show, it is pretty unlikely that both of these things happen (at least, not at face value or without some kind of "catch") and stay consistent for the remainder of the show.

So, in some sense, it seems like the Fandom will probably never universally agree on whether or not Macdennis is canon..... but I can confidently claim that a sloppy makeout is guaranteed to push us over the line for more yeses than nos!

There's a more in-depth and complete discussion/breakdown of the Fandom's idea of canon Macdennis on The Paddy's Pub Blog!