#the only thing I did was reblog a post I was sent by someone else to defend Noah because he ISN'T ON THE PLATFORM TO DO IT HIMSELF.

[singnorequiemtonight]

boy I sure do love the block function when strangers on the internet with victim complexes and hearts full of hate have way too much time on their hands !!

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[navybrat817]

No Other Love

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to surprise you with a romantic evening.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, slight feels (it’s me, okay), Bucky Barnes being romantic (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: I received some sad news and almost didn't post, but I wanted to share something that brought happy tears to my eyes with Stud. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky sent you to your room and wouldn’t tell you why. He had a surprise planned for you and refused to give you any sort of a hint. He only said he debated kicking you out for a few hours, but didn’t want to risk you getting back too early or late. Oh, and he asked you to put on a dress. Your boyfriend had a romantic plan in mind and you wouldn't deny his request.

You did, however, demand snacks while you waited.

“You want me to feed you just because I’m asking you not to go into the kitchen or dining area for a bit?” he smiled when you pointed to the pantry.

“If I can’t leave my room, I will need sustenance,” you replied.

Just like you didn’t argue about his surprise plans, he didn’t argue when he handed over the food.

“What is he doing out there?” you mumbled to yourself, crossing your arms. You debated pressing your ear against the door to listen, but your stealthy boyfriend managed to keep quiet. “Can I come out now?!” you called out.

“No! Don’t distract me!” he yelled back.

You huffed and flopped back against the pillow. It wasn’t that you didn’t like surprises. You just preferred knowing things. Blame it on your curious nature. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed studying. Expanding your mind and absorbing knowledge centered you. With surprises, however, the only option you had was to wait.

But it’s worth it because it’s Stud.

“‘Don’t distract me.’ Like you haven’t distracted me when I have things to do,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a book from your nightstand. “Menace of a boyfriend.”

“You talking about me?” he shouted as you mindlessly flipped through the pages.

How the hell…?

“No! Just reading! Get back to work or whatever it is that you’re doing!”

“You trust me, right?” He asked.

Even though he couldn't see your face, you smiled. “Completely,” you answered.

If there was anyone in the world you trusted with your entire being, it was Bucky.

“Then trust that this will be worth it.”

“You got it, Stud!” you said, assuming he went back to work since he chuckled and didn't say anything else.

You passed the time with your book before you got up to look in the mirror. Since Bucky didn’t say what kind of dress to wear, you picked something simple and blue. You loved the color before, but he made you appreciate it more. You felt peace when you looked into his eyes.

Trust, loyalty, love.

You just finished spritzing a bit of perfume on your neck when Bucky knocked on the door. Instead of opening it as you expected, he slid a piece of paper under it instead. As you moved closer, you realized it was shaped like a puzzle piece. Smiling, you picked it up to read the message he wrote.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought someone as amazing as you would come into my life. I hope I’m your dream come true and better than any book boyfriend you've read about.

Oh, Bucky.

With misty eyes, you read the message again and traced the letters with your finger. Bucky was the best boyfriend in the universe and you didn’t think that just because he was yours. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like him by his side. Someone loving and steadfast and true.

“Count to ten and then come out,” Bucky said through the door as you composed yourself.

After silently counting to ten as he instructed, you opened the door with a gasp. Bucky took your apartment, one you saw daily, and transformed it. Fairy lights, adjustable lamps, and candles replaced the normally brightly lit place. You could see blankets and pillows ready in the living room for cuddling and hopefully more. And the scent of freshly baked pizza filled the air.

Best meal ever.

“Bucky?” you asked when you didn’t see him. Was he hiding? You didn’t even see Alpine or Soot. Maybe he put them in his room. You almost called for Bucky again before you spotted another piece of paper on the floor a few feet in front of your door and went to pick it up.

Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to smile for no reason. And I found the reason for my smile the day I found you. Like when I think of that cute look you get on your face when you put a puzzle together.

You held the sheet close to your chest as you found another in the direction of the kitchen, smiling as you went to retrieve it. This was like a treasure hunt, a puzzle you couldn’t wait to complete. Bucky was the “X” that marked the spot.

If I write your name in the sand, it will wash away. If I write it in the clouds, it will blow away. So I wrote it in my heart where it will always stay in my care. Just like I promised your parents.

I’m going to be a blubbering mess if he keeps this up.

“Wise men say.”

You walked into the kitchen as “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” filled the room, where Bucky was waiting for you. The song you danced to before you became a couple, one that would forever hold a special place in your heart. And it was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the room as you took in the sight of your boyfriend. Instead of sweatpants or jeans, he wore slacks and a button up shirt. The blue matched your dress. That’s how in sync the two of you were.

He even styled his hair for me.

"Hey, Smartie," he said, his voice gentle as he smiled and nodded to the ground in front of him where another piece of paper lay waiting. “You look beautiful.”

"Thank you, Stud," you smiled, sniffling as you bent down to pick it up. "These messages are beautiful, but are you trying to make me cry? Because if so, well done and it's a good thing I didn't overdo it on the makeup. I'd be a mess."

He laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Only if they're tears of joy or pleasure. And you don't need to wear any makeup because you're beautiful," he replied, heat rushing through your body before you read the message.

Love is two people dancing in the kitchen. May I have this dance?

You lifted your gaze to find Bucky holding out his hand. “I’d love to,” you said, setting the pieces of paper on the counter before you joined him. There was no way you would refuse, easily taking his hand for him to pull you into his arms. It was almost overwhelming the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. If you ever needed to know what love looked like, you only had to gaze into Bucky's eyes.

Am I worthy of such devotion?

"You really are good on your feet,” you said as he began to lead you in a dance.

"I'm even better off my feet," he winked, making you laugh before he spun you away from him, only to pull you back. "That was cheesier than the pizza waiting for us, wasn't it?"

“So cheesy. You had to ruin the moment,” you teased, giving him a coy smile. “So, what’s the special occasion for all this?”

You had a feeling why and wanted your instinct to be correct, but didn’t want to get your hopes up. Family wise, they were ready for you to take the next step. Your parents adored the hell out of Bucky. Becca welcomed you like a sister. Your friends, of course, were also supportive and ready for you to tie the knot.

“Do I need a reason to spoil my girl with an extra romantic pizza and movie night? I’m even letting you pick the movie, even though you chose last time.”

“How generous of you. And no, you don’t need a reason to spoil me,” you said. Even if he didn’t have something specific planned, he made you feel special just by calling you his girl. You knew, no matter how many years passed, the two of you would continue to find ways to make each other feel loved and cared for.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, smiling as if the memory was playing in his mind. “I warned you that Alpine chased off the last person who came over to look at the place. I was worried for a second she'd try the same thing with you.”

“You did warn me,” you giggled. “And I just crouched down and stuck my hand out toward her.”

“She loved you from the start,” he said, pulling you closer as he brushed his mouth against your ear, the gentle tickle of his scruff making your eyes slip shut. “I think I loved you, too.”

Bucky and his perfect voice and perfect words and I'm about to cry all over again.

“You think you loved me from the moment you met me?” You asked, sniffling as he pulled back and nodded. “Because I think I loved you, too. Which sounds crazy, but we're both a little crazy in the best ways.”

We're a couple of dorks who found a way to fit together.

“We are a little crazy. And who would Stud be without his Smartie?" He asked, handing you a sheet that he seemed to pull out of thin air. “One more piece.”

My love for you is like a circle: It has no beginning and no end. And it would be an honor for you to wear my family ring.

Bucky dropped down to one knee and grasped your left hand as he took a box from his pocket. You couldn’t slow the beating of your heart as he looked up at you with loving eyes. “When I tried to think of the perfect proposal, I wanted it to be the kind you deserved. And I couldn’t get our apartment out of my head. This is where we met. The place where you became my roommate. And we made it a home together. You even fell in love with me. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m thankful every single day that you allowed me to love you, too.”

Your breath hitched when he opened the box. Even expecting it, your soul was ready to leave your body. “Bucky,” you whispered, a sob bursting from your throat when he tenderly smiled.

“My mom told me to give this to the person who stole my heart. You gave me the world when you gave me yours. And I promised your dad I'd always take care of you and love you the way you deserve. We’re made for each other and I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.”

You could only cry when he removed the ring from the box. For him to think you were worthy of wearing something so significant and special to his family was a precious gift. One you would never let him question or regret. “I don’t want to either.”

“You're my missing piece. My forever. My Smartie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you cried, your hand shaking a little as he slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made for you. Like you and Bucky were made for each other.

My missing piece. My forever. My Stud.

Bucky stood and leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips. You eliminated any distance between you by pressing your mouth to his. You clung to him, your mouth soft against his as he brought a thumb up to wipe away your tears. You drew back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he brought his lips to your damp cheek.

“I love you so much,” he breathed against your skin.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered, bringing your mouth back to his. “I love you, too.”

You never could’ve imagined someone like Bucky in your wildest dreams. He was the reason you smiled, sometimes for no reason at all. You’d write his name on your heart and forever keep it there. You would dance with him in the kitchen or wherever he asked you to. Your love for him, like his love for you, was an unbreakable circle.

And you couldn’t wait to be his wife.

Yay! He proposed! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[shreddedparchment]

The Garden Gate

Pairing: Medieval!Loki x Reader Word Count: 6,514

Warnings: smut, mentions of infidelity, language, bodily fluids, jealousy, Loki in a poofy shirt

A/N: Well, I haven't done this in a while. I had to go look for an old post to see how I used to do these openings. LUL Anywho, y'all can thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for this one. She sent me a picture and then I asked her for three characters and three scenarios and this one is the one that spoke to me the most. I did put my own spin on it but that's just me. Anywho, I'm not sure how many of my old readers will read this but I hope y'all like it. Anything y'all have to say about it is also greatly appreciated. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs!!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Your family’s fall from grace had been nothing short of spectacular.

It had started first with the crumbling of respect from the men and heads of other houses. The gentry had taken offense to the shame of your father and eldest brother’s retreat at the battle for Carmine Valley, so named for the blush of trees that peppered the expanse of lush green and the strange but beautiful red waters of the central lake.

Had Lord Odinson’s own knights not been flanking from the western ridges, the valley would have fallen into the hands of the northern enemy forces. A great loss seeing as the valley was the largest producer of grain and vegetables in the kingdom.

The fallout had been catastrophic. Both your father and brother had been sent to the wild woods to the southernmost parts of the kingdom to work off their shame and languish in the dangerous labor camps where men were said to be torn into shreds by beasts as large as a carriage.

Even though you loved them very much, you couldn’t help the anger within your veins at their betrayal to not only the kingdom, but to your very family. The abandonment that their retreat meant. They knew what doing so would do to you, your mother, and younger brother.

If it were not for the King’s good nature, you’d have no doubt found yourself working in some brothel alongside your mother leaving your younger brother, at the tender age of seven, exposed to the worst parts of society.

The seediest brothels were not above selling children, you knew. No matter that the King had signed a death warrant for anyone known to sell or buy said company. It was the worst of sins and it breaks your heart to know that one man’s generosity saved all three of you from that life when he could have very well condemned it.

Knowing this–knowing how bad it could have been–doesn’t change the fact that your life now is still torture. Torture of a different kind, but torture all the same.

The King’s kindness came in the form of service. While your family was stripped of all titles and wealth, you’d also lost your beloved.

That is the true source of agony in your chest as you struggle with the bucket of waste water you’re holding, trying desperately not to slosh it around too hard. The last thing you want to do is to go to bed smelling of someone else’s bodily fluids.

The thick wool of your simple navy dress and the apron you keep tied over it are both great for absorbing disgusting materials. Already in need of a wash, the white ruffle along the neckline is frayed and yellowing despite the gown being only a few months old.

Edging along the courtyard wall, you try not to rush. The exhaustion in your body begs for sleep. Even months later the labor of working in the castle as a servant to former peers has not grown easier.

Wincing as the rough rope of the bucket burns the center of your palms, you almost sigh but instead freeze at the sight before you.

You’d know his silhouette anywhere.

The light is low here, a small lamp just beyond the open garden gate illuminates them from behind and hides their expressions but you don’t need to see to understand.

Her lips are parted, head pressed back against the door, hand braced against the warm brown and ornately carved wood. Her legs are parted a little too wide, a subtle motion of his left arm and the bunch of fabric around his forearm tell you enough of what you’ve stumbled upon.

You’re embarrassed and try to fade back into the darkness of the small courtyard behind you.

His shoulder length hair, black as a raven’s feather, is disheveled. You notice her hand gripping it tightly as his arm pumps.

A wispy, sultry moan slips through her parted lips and you stumble, gasping your own bit of surprise as you try not to spill the bucket’s contents.

A small splash, luckily away from you but the shuffle of feet and the rustle of fabric tells you that you’ve been noticed.

You look up, Lord Loki stands facing you, hands fisted as she hides behind him quickly adjusting her skirts.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lord Loki says, disdain in his voice.

Everyone here hates you. You already know this. Your father’s sins are your own. Nothing can change that.

“Finally where you belong,” the girl says and you recognize the voice with a small shock of pain in your chest. “You smell like piss.”

Lord Loki chuckles and you shrink just a little. More embarrassed by your own situation than catching them in the act. In fact, you’re disgusted by both of them, not only because of their audacity to do this at all, but because the woman whose fingers Lord Loki were just in is also your once beloved’s fiance.

Your former confidant. Lady Amora Antress. You’d once considered her your closest friend. Now here she stands, betrothed to one brother while fucking the other. The venom she spits at you is also unappreciated and painful to hear.

How long had she hated you before your downfall? How long had she waited before pursuing Thor?

“Aren’t you going to reply to her ladyship, servant?” Lord Loki asks, gleeful mirth in his voice as he takes a step towards you.

You bow your head even more, holding the bucket in your hands as still as you can while your hands struggle with the burn of the rope.

Amora scoff, “Pathetic. Leave her be, Loki. She’s where she deserves to be. She’s not worth the breath in our lungs.”

You don’t mean to cry. The utter betrayal of your once friend hurts more even than the loss of your once future husband.

“Are you crying?” Amora laughs, moving around Lord Loki, her shoes clicking against the brick of the courtyard. She stops in front of you, arms crossed over her ample bosom, still exposed more than it should be from what she and Lord Loki were just about to do. “You’re pathetic. The least you could do is be invisible while you serve.”

You say nothing, fist tightening around the rope. Pain shifts into rage at the cruelty in her words.

The wind blows and you can smell the scent of their near copulation. Luckily, it’s driven away by the vines of jasmine that creep along the tops of the brick wall.

She doesn’t deserve Thor. But you know that he never deserved you either. The rate at which he moved on…

Almost as if she’s sensing your thoughts, she takes a step closer and drops her voice to a whisper. You know Lord Loki will still be able to hear.

“Poor little flower, so careless and trusting.” She smiles. “You know it was so easy to seduce Thor. Even before your disgrace of a father betrayed his kingdom, Thor came to my bed often. Such a chaste little thing you were. You had no idea that every night after he whispered sweet promises in your ear of a happy future, he was burying his cock deep in my cunt, whispering how glorious I felt around him. Promising that even after you married, he would slip away and fuck me because no cunt could be as good as mine.”

Whore. Your heart shattered. Finally your eyes met hers.

She took a slight step back at whatever she saw in them. The hatred coursing through you set your teeth on edge. You wanted so much to rip her hair from its roots. If you could gouge her eyes out with your fingers without the consequence of a beheading, you would.

Perhaps she could see that promise of death in your eyes.

She scoffed, a reaction to whatever fear she felt in that moment.

“Now, now, ladies.” Lord Loki chastised, “Let’s keep things civil.”

“Civility? From a servant?” Amora looked at him then back at you, her hateful smirk twisting her pretty face into an ugly mask.

No…this is her true face. Her long blonde hair, pale skin, and green eyes might make her superficially beautiful, but you can see the true ugliness in her now.

“Trash knows no civility.” She spits.

Done with this encounter you make to move around her to finish your duties. You need rest. Body and now soul exhausted, the sanctuary of your quarters beckons like a beacon.

She steps in your way, smiling cruelly as she does.

You make to move around her again. She blocks you once more.

Body shaking with rage, you don’t bother stopping this time as she steps in front of you. Instead you let yourself fall against her, your bucket sloshing loudly as you angle the wide opening towards her.

The smell of piss and shit slices through the scent of sex and jasmine.

Amora screams, stepping back quickly until she bumps into Lord Loki who quickly pushes her away from himself, a wrinkle of disgust on his handsome face.

The green damask pattern of her silk gown grows slowly darker as the piss soaks into the fabric. A dark brown stain sets in towards the bottom.

“You probably should have moved out of my way, my lady.” The casual tone of your voice, the respect you can now fake like a professional grifter sounds so real that your taunt sounds like an apology.

“You bitch!” Amora growls.

Lord Loki catches her by the arm before she can move towards you.

“Perhaps, Lady Antress, you may want to go and change? If what you say is true and my brother will seek you out, I doubt very much he’d desire your company if you smell like shit and piss. No matter how delicious your cunt may be.” Lord Loki’s smirk gives away his delight at Amora’s distress.

Almost as soon as he’s grabbed her, he drops his hand and angles himself away from her slowly to avoid being soiled as well.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you curtsy, a perfect bow. “It was an accident.”

Amora glares at you then looks at Lord Loki who has taken to pressing the fingers of his right hand against his nose to shield from the smell, affixing her with a look of amused disgust.

Amora huffs, “Fuck you.” Then turns and stomps past you across the courtyard and disappears into the castle.

“That was nicely done,” Lord Loki says once you’re alone.

You give him a quick curtsy and move towards the gate to toss the remaining waste where it belongs in the river just past the far end of the large hedged garden.

Ignoring the sound of his following footsteps against the gravel and footstones, you wander through the fragrant rows of flowers.

“If anyone had been watching, no one would have doubted your sincerity with that apology.” He declares, hastening his footsteps to catch up with you, settling in to your right as he matches your pace. “I’m impressed. You never gave me the impression that you even knew how to lie let alone be deceptive.”

Grinding your teeth, you attempt to ignore him. You don’t engage.

He reaches out to grab your arm but you stop and twist away from him, disgust on your face as you stare at his left hand pointedly.

For a moment he looks confused and then laughs once in realization and takes his hand back.

“You won’t tell my brother, will you? About my…meeting with Lady Antress?” Lord Loki doesn’t sound like he actually cares.

You know that he and Thor never truly got along once they were of age. As children they had been inseparable. You’d followed them around and they’d welcomed you into their company as a playmate despite your gender.

Not until you also were of age did you realize that your parents and their parents had seen your friendship as an indicator of good fortune for a future marriage.

As the elder brother, Thor had been chosen. Your heart, having been devoted to Thor even as a girl, had been so full. Eagerly you’d thrown yourself into the arrangement of your marriage. Only now did you begin to realize that perhaps your heart had been the only one truly invested in the promises that Thor had made.

Agony cuts you again, tearing your heart apart a little more as the feeling of stupidity makes your eyes prick with tears again.

“Did you truly not know that Thor and Amora were fucking?” Lord Loki asks, voice devoid of anything but genuine curiosity.

A tear slips down along your cheek as you turn and resume your walk. Lord Loki follows.

“You wound me.” He says, voice low. “Were we not also friends before?”

Scoffing, you readjust the bucket and wince at the pain of the rope as you feel your skin break. You drop it, Lord Loki stepping back quickly but nothing splashes out this time. Most of the contents were currently soaking through Amara’s gown.

You lift your hand up, staring at the peel of skin and the slick of the pink muscle beneath as red begins to pool along the edges of the tear.

Just another wound. It’ll seal and heal and scar, joining the others on your once smooth hands.

The bite of pain gives you a reason to let your tears fall. You don’t hold them back as you sob quietly, uncaring of the audience to your humiliation.

“He’s an asshole,” Lord Loki states, stepping up in front of you. “Always has been. Arrogant, proud, and foolhardy. Thinks with his cock more than his brain.”

Again, you scoff. The irony of Lord Loki, whom you just caught fingering your former best friend in the garden, telling you that Thor thinks first with his cock does not escape you.

Lord Loki clears his throat, embarrassed?

“If I’d been your betrothed,” Lord Loki continues. “I’d have worshiped the ground you walk on.”

“You’re a liar, and just as susceptible to Amara’s games as he apparently is. Does it make you feel happy to sleep with your brother’s fiance? Does it give you pleasure to betray him?” You spit at him, angry at yourself, at Thor, at Amara, at your father and brother.

You’re just so angry. You’re always angry now. Even when you’re sad, you’re angry.

“Are you really worried about my betrayal against him when Amara just exposed him for the hypocrite he is?” Lord Loki demands, a little affronted by your ire.

Biting down hard on your lip, you squeeze around the wound on your hand.

“You’re all hypocrites. All of you deserve each other.” You realize and reach down to take the bucket again but are stopped by Lord Loki’s hand as it takes hold of the bucket for you.

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead moves towards the gate at the end of the garden.

Quickly, you hurry after him, eager to take the bucket from him before anyone might look out onto the grounds and see him interfering with your duties. The punishment you’d receive would be painful.

“My Lord, please,” you finally beg, unable to really catch up with his long legged stride. “I’ll be punished if they find out.”

Lord Loki says nothing but strides out through the gate into the wooded expanse behind the garden.

Expertly, probably from the many hunts he’s gone on around the castle, he winds through the trees towards the rushing river whose roar you begin to hear.

“My Lord,” you hurry after him, nearly catching up but then he turns and disappears behind a tree only to emerge before another one. “Please,” you beg.

Taking a quick glance behind you towards the castle and its countless illuminated windows, you don’t see anyone watching but panic has begun to take hold.

He shifts and turns, stomping over the wild grass, the occasional crack of twig or fallen branch as he steps onto it, eaten by the rush of the water now louder.

You’re almost running now to keep up with him and still you lose sight of him when he turns around a particularly large tree. You stop beside it, scanning the area for him desperately.

The dungeons are so damp this time of year. You don’t want to get locked up if you can help it. Illness is something you don’t have much experience with and with your body weak and unhealthy now compared to the grace and flush of perfection you’d been with money and a constantly full belly, you might succumb to any serious illness.

You don’t want to die, despite the hardships you face.

With no sign of him, you move towards the section of river you always go to empty your buckets.

Minutes later you break through the treeline and spot Lord Loki crouched by the water, damp bucket set beside him now empty and rinsed.

Breathing heavily, you try to catch your breath and press your hand against your thundering heart, forgetting for a moment about the wound there and hiss.

Lord Loki rises, turning to look at you with a furrowed brow as he shakes the water from his hands and dries them on his dark emerald jerkin. He pulls down the puffed sleeves of his black shirt, fastening them around his wrists again but only finishes one before he’s holding his hand out for you.

“Come,” he orders. Not a request.

You don’t move, holding your wounded hand still as you watch him, pale skin nearly glowing in the light of the moon.

“Come here,” he orders again and this time you move towards him only a step. He steps towards you once, his hand held up again with more emphasis. “Shall I say please? Am I wrong? Were we not also friends?”

He smirks, amused by your hesitation for some reason.

Asshole. How dare he throw the past in your face. It’s coercion to remind you of your bond as children.

Unwilling to let him get the satisfaction of seeing you be defiant, you close the distance between you.

He takes your hand, holding it up close so that he can see it clearly. The moon is bright enough that he can and he pulls you towards the river’s edge. Squatting down again, he pulls you down with him.

You kneel, inching towards the edge as he pulls your hand into the water.

A hiss escapes your lips as the water coats the wound, tugging at the bit of skin still holding on until it tears free.

He holds it under the water for a minute then brings it back up to examine, pulling your arm so that you shift to face him and he does the same, kneeling before you.

“It’ll scar,” he realizes, but notes the other small scars that now cover your palm underneath the base of each finger.

You watch him as he traces each scar with his thumb, the golden emerald ring on his finger cool to the touch after being submerged in the cold river water for a bit. It feels nice against the heated skin of your palms. The friction of the rope burning them both.

“I remember when your hands were soft,” he notes.

Self conscious, you make to yank your hand from his grip but he tightens it and meets your eyes in silent order not to try that again.

Holding your gaze, he brings your palm up towards his mouth. Heart hammering against your chest, you try again to yank it from him but his lips close around the wound.

A strange tumble of knots in your stomach work their way up into your chest and constrict your heart.

More strange than that, a shift between your legs has your face and neck burning. Ears so hot that the breeze of the late spring air feels cold in comparison.

“Stop that,” you tell him, voice weak from shock at both his actions and your body’s reaction to it.

He does. Pulling your hand away from his mouth to look the wound over.

“The bleeding stopped,” he states, then reaches for your apron.

The tearing of fabric sends our heart seizing but more arousal pools between your legs. Embarrassed, you look away from him as he wraps your hand tightly. He must have dealt with many small injuries on his hunts because he ties the wrap around your palm securely and nothing save for cutting the fabric away will undo it.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asks, voice low and deep. Almost dark in the way it slithers across your skin in a sultry embrace.

“No.” You answer honestly. “And it’s probably only because I caught you and you didn’t get to stick it in Amara.”

He releases your hand as you pull against his grip but he reaches forward to place his hand on your cheek. His left hand.

You almost pull away but remember him drying his hands on his vest. He’d deliberately washed both hands. Why?

“I meant what I said,” he whispers. “I would have worshiped the ground you walk on. I still can, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m a servant,” you spit, turning to look at him with anger and betrayal. “Anything you do to me will be forced merely by the fact that I cannot deny you anything you might want.”

Lord Loki frowns.

“You think so badly of me?” He wonders, hurt in his green eyes.

Your mind flashes back to your childhood. You, Thor, and Lord Loki running to the stables of his estate. You fall. Both Thor and Lord Loki stop but it’s Lord Loki that rushes back to you, helping you up and dusting you off as you cry loudly.

Thor rushes away, laughing in his eagerness to mount his horse.

More memories of your childhood assault you with images of Lord Loki and his kindness. Frequent acts of compassion and what you might have once considered friendly love. Thor’s are fewer and mostly contained to the days after your betrothal had been agreed upon.

“You will never be a servant to me,” Lord Loki assures you.

“It is what I am,” you counter. “You cannot simply ignore it.”

Lord Loki sighs, “You’ve always been so stubborn.”

He lets his hand glide down along the side of your neck, over your shoulder, down along your arm, and then he settles it along the side of your waist, the shape stiff thanks to the corset underneath.

It’s almost unbearable that he’s here, in your shame of servitude. His touch is confusing. You almost ask him why it feels so strange but instead focus on what’s most important.

“Is it true?” you ask, voice wary and quiet.

“Is what true?” There are so many things you could mean, you realize.

Part of you almost doesn’t want to know. So you hesitate.

Something softens in Lord Loki’s eyes as if he suddenly knows what you’re going to ask.

“Were…did Thor and Amara…?” You shake your head, trying not to let the pain show.

“Yes,” he answers, voice firm. He wants you to know that it’s true. No hesitation in his answer. “A few times even with you nearby. You almost caught them a handful of times. Were you only a few moments earlier or later.”

Head falling, you can’t help the tears that spring forth. So much of your past had been a lie. The strength of your house. The friendships you held dear. Your betrothed hadn’t truly loved you. If he had, he would not have betrayed you.

“My brother paints a pretty picture. Despite what he wants others to think he is changeable. He is impatient. Clearly that was his undoing with you. He is rash and prideful. He doesn’t think about what he does before he does it and because he would be insulted by it, would it not be sweet revenge to dangle what he wanted most in the open for all to see?” His words are slow and sure.

The last bit of his speech is careful and calculated. You can hear the manipulation in his words even though he tries not to let you. You’ve known him too long. Lord Loki also changed when you were betrothed to Thor. A shift of his usual kindness had taken place and the sneering Lord had been born. Intent on his own machinations to pry forth the dreary truths of his life.

He’d never been cold and harsh but he became so after your engagement. Thor had called him a snake and even then you could see it. The skill with which Lord Loki had developed his manipulating tactics and the precision with which he enabled them are known to you.

So you know what he’s saying even if he won’t say it clearly.

He takes hold of your chin and slowly lifts your head until he can see your eyes. There’s a strange eagerness in his own greens as he tries to read you. There’s a question there, an uncertain probing as his hand at your waist grows tighter, wrapping around to rest on your back, arching your body towards him.

That strange feeling between your legs surges. It’s Amara’s sneering face that breaks down your defenses. It’s the pride in her words as she’d bragged about being with Thor while you were still betrothed to him that shatters your will.

You do want to get revenge. You want Thor to know that you don’t care anymore. That he means as little to you now as you did to him then.

And what better way to show him that than with the one person he’d hate it happening with the most?

He might overlook some random stablehand. He might ignore some merchant’s son, even if he were above your station.

With Lord Loki…the bite would be as harsh as the sting of Amara’s venom was to you.

“Loki…” you whisper and he surges forward.

His lips are over yours, moving and massaging as you at first merely take his kiss.

He hates it. He pulls back and tilts his head the other way, kissing you more enthusiastically, trying to draw some type of reaction from you.

It’s taking you longer to submit than you thought it would take.

He pulls back one final time and tilts his head back again before this time pressing his lips against your own slowly. He doesn’t move then but instead waits, puckering against yours as he tugs you towards him instead of shoving himself onto you.

Strong lithe arms wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your knees and against his chest. He holds you so close, so tight. It isn’t rough or demanding but needy. As if he can’t get you close enough to his own body and he can only draw you closer and closer in the hopes that it’ll fill something in him that needs filling.

You place your hands on his shoulder as you tilt your head back with his kiss.

Finally, you find the strength in your body and pucker your own lips and return this gentle kiss.

Shock flashes in his eyes as he opens them to look at you. You watch the confusion bloom in them but then shut your own and give in.

Loki’s lips part and envelop yours. It shocks you the way it sends those knots back into your stomach. In response you do the same, enveloping his lips with your own.

Loki’s hands splay out against your back and he groans as he opens his mouth and the tip of his tongue slides against the crease of your lip in question.

In answer, you open for him and welcome his searching tongue with your own. The taste of him, the scent of him, it overwhelms and you gasp as you lose yourself in the moment.

You feel his hands drift around to your front, his right sliding up along your bodice until he can cup your breast, a groan slipping through his lips as he breaks your kiss and traces wet open kisses along your jaw, neck, and shoulder.

“Loki…” you gasp without ever having given your mouth permission to speak.

He bites your neck when you say his name. You moan and he licks the spot to soothe it.

“Loki…” You whisper again.

He’s driven mad by it and before your mind can understand what is happening, he’s laying over you, hands moving wildly underneath your back, running along your sides, fumbling around until he finds where your dress is fastened and he pulls at the ties.

“Should I stop?” He asks, breathless and looking as if he would like nothing more than to keep going.

“No.”

“Mm,” he moans and kisses you again, tongue claiming your mouth as his own.

You can feel him tearing away your apron and then your dress. Too eager to pull it off you completely, he merely shoves it down so that he lays spread out along your waist.

He looks down at you, the corset you wear hiding very little of your breasts. He kisses them each in turn, the soft fleshy bits that pool up above your undergarment.

You shudder at the touch of his lips.

“Has anyone kissed you here before?” He wonders. You’re not sure if he wants  an answer or not but you shake your head anyway.

As he nuzzles the soft flesh, his hands work on the corset, pulling at strings blindly until it gives way and he pulls it off of you exposing you completely.

The cool air of the night perks your nipples more than his touch already has and he takes both breasts in his hands, pushing them together as he stares to the point of embarrassment.

Before you can cover yourself, he takes one into his mouth, suckling softly to draw soft moans from your open mouth.

He sees it, your gaping mouth, and seals it with his own, his tongue nearly in a frenzy as he devours your whimpers.

Cool air hits your suddenly exposed legs. You gasp sharply as he thrusts suddenly and the hard press of his cock rubs against you, shielded only by the fabric of his pants.

“Shall I stop?” He asks again, hands running down along your torso where he takes each breast in hand, massaging them slowly before rolling each of your nipples in slow deliberate circles.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s almost torture when he removes his hands from your overheated body. But you enjoy the sight as he removes his jerkin, followed shortly by his shirt. His body is sculpted but tight, not bulky. Lithe limbs hard and eager as he reaches down beneath your skirts in search of what he desires.

He hisses when his fingers touch you, soaking wet, and you reach down to hold his wrist not to stop but simply to hold on.

The thought crosses your mind that he’s already had someone else like this tonight and it almost makes you pull away. You’re so close to stopping but he sees the thought in your eyes and leans over you, removing his hand he leans over you, pressing his chest against yours and silencing your thoughts with a slow kiss.

It burns through you, the meaning clear.

“Shall I only touch you from now on, darling?” he whispers, kissing your chin then suckling along your throat.

He’ll leave marks…

“Tell me and I will only touch you.” He promises.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Loki.” You chastise him, mood nearly breaking again at the memory of the endless promises Thor had made you.

“I will never break a promise to you. Tell me to refrain and I will. I meant what I said,” he kisses his way up to your ear, licking the shell of it before hot breath sends your skin prickling. “I will worship the ground you walk on if you will only let me.”

He thrusts again. You shut your eyes, gasping at the cock straining for freedom.

“H-How do I know I can trust you?” You ask, unintentionally letting him see how desperate you are to do so.

He kisses you again, genuine and hungry for it.

“Give me a week and I shall truly prove it. Trust me until then and you shall see the depths of my willingness and devotion.”

He thrusts again and maybe you’re a fool for allowing yourself to consider this when he’s got you right where he wants you, but you nod.

“Only touch me,” you order him.

He smirks. He reaches down between your legs again and with one finger slowly strokes from the bottom of your cunt to the top, the lurid sounds of your wetness poignant despite the rushing river beside you.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises.

One finger. He uses only one finger and the pressure is intense. Sensations you’ve never felt before awaken every nerve ending in your body. His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sit up with the shock of pleasure that rushes through you.

He adds a second finger, moving slowly as he pumps them in and out.

“Shall I stop, darling?”

“Never stop,” you gasp, still gripping his wrist.

Another smirk on that handsome face, his green eyes dazzling you as he shifts back to his knees.

He licks his lips as he pulls a tie free at the front of his trousers and slowly pushes them lower and lower until he can kick free of them completely.

The length of him is breathtaking. He reaches down and strokes his cock, slowly running his thumb along the shiny pink head before he scoots closer, your skirt blocking him from view.

He rubs himself against you, slicking himself with your own arousal.

There he waits, watching you as you brace your hands on the soft grass beneath you but open your legs wider.

Your eyes meet and both of you know that there will be no coming back from this choice. Nothing either of you do will ever erase this line you’ve nearly crossed completely.

He pushes in slowly, leaning over you as he gets deeper and deeper until he’s buried completely. Chest to chest. Face to face. He grunts deep, face twitching as he settles within you.

It’s so much pressure it’s painful. The feeling of him is so foreign. You’re not sure whether it feels good or not.

“Fuck,” he whispers and tenses then shudders. You feel a wave of heat within you, followed by the sensation of slow moving drippage. “You feel…”

He seems lost for words. Do you feel terrible?

He pulls his hips back just a bit and pushes back in.

You whimper, pushing against his chest to look down where your bodies connect.

“Loki,” you fret.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “Be calm my sweet. I will ease you into this.”

Each thrust into you, his pelvis pushes against your clit and each time you moan, wishing he’d do that more. The feeling of him is filling, strange, but not unpleasant. Just different.

As your body relaxes a bit more, Loki’s thrusts grow faster. You smile unintentionally as he presses against your clit more often.

“You like that?” he wonders, stopping as he pushes all the way in and then rolls his hips against you.

Your responding moan gives him confirmation and he settles himself over you fully.

As he thrusts he presses harder against you, lingering for a moment before doing it again and again. The slap of his skin against yours grows louder and he finds a rhythm that has you both breathless and moaning.

“Loki,” you plead, feeling the build up of tension within your body.

“Come for me, darlin,” he kisses you, subduing your voice as he pumps into you.

You’re unsure for certain what he means but your body seems to listen. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he continues to thrust into you. The sweat of his body glistens in the moonlight. The soft silk of his hair tickles your skin as he arches up slightly so that he can take your breast into his mouth again as he keeps pumping into you.

You feel it…so close.

“Loki,” you whimper, wanting to reach the end of this tightrope.

He growls once and brings his hand down between your connected bodies. His thumb presses against your clit firmly. He presses and presses, rolling it in small circles with such precise pressure.

Your body explodes into endless fuzzy light. You arch into him, trembling as his thumb continues to draw pleasure from you in spasms as he keeps moving his cock in and out.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts and thrusts one final time his whole body tight in its release as that same sensation of heat fills you again.

Both of you seem to have stars in your eyes as he collapses on top of you, kissing you slowly with his eyes wide open to watch the expression of pure bliss on your face.

“I think-” Loki says, pulling back as he slowly helps to pull your dress up a bit to cover your exposed breasts. He kisses each one before he does so. “-it goes without saying that I would appreciate it if I was the only one allowed to touch you.”

You’re floating, swathed in golden light, unable to process anything he’s saying because of the pure escape from and yet complete connection to your body Loki’s cock just gave you.

You hear him chuckle. He pinches your cheek, drawing your attention back to him.

“Agreed?”

“What?” You gasp breathlessly.

“No one may touch but me. And I will touch no one but you.” He declares. “Is that understood?”

The authority in his voice draws your legs wide as that throbbing from before is renewed.

Loki’s face twitches at the movement.

“Show me again,” you plead.

“Tell me no one else will touch you,” he orders.

“No one else will touch me,” you agree.

“If you betray me,” you begin.

Loki’s eyes soften. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“I promised you that I would worship the ground you walk on.”

He kisses you again, slowly, feeling every inch of your mouth against his.

“One week, my darling. I’ll prove to you my devotion.” He promises.

The sincerity in his voice has your legs spreading again and he hisses as you shift. Inside you, you feel him harden.

“Show me…” you beg.

“You’re going to be insatiable.” He realizes.

And revenge against Thor aside, you realize that being with Loki might be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.

“Do you have any idea how long I have waited to make you mine?” Loki wonders, stroking your cheek.

“How long?” You wonder, reaching up to take hold of his hand.

“I’ll show you.”

There will be NO tags.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey,  @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[cherrycokedup]

Bro what happened in the nevercord?? I am not a part of it but still curious

EDIT: please look at @thelesbomancer ‘s post/reblog, and @gothwineaunts ‘s post about this situation!

please defer to your own judgment when it comes to this, and don’t use my post as the end all be all! Those two posts have much more information on all of this! This post was made as this all unfolded and might be out of date (also turning off reblogs because i’m not an authority on this )

i'm gonna be careful not to name any names here because I don't want to start a hate train and I'm looking at all of this as neutral as possible and also please please please don't think of this like a call-out post or anything, it's not! I still think you can be a fan of rnf and support their work, this is just why I'm chosing to take a break from doing so!

Content Warning below for mentions of explicit content being sent to minors ( by a server member, not RnF, THANK GOD )

i don't have all the details but basically, someone was banned for sending heavy nsfw/pornographic images to minors, and then was unbanned later on because of two reasons

one: the children the images were sent too were banned from nevercord for varying reasons ( closest explanation I remember is about these kids doing witchhunts, whatever that means )

two: the evidence was apparently "unreliable" and heavily censored.

Also, the minors themselves didn't report this information, an adult did with screenshots, censoring the users of the kids.

The offending person claimed that they never knew the ages of the people talking to them and thought they were all adults, even though at least two victims from my knowledge have come forward and said the person did, in fact know their ages. The only age I've heard for sure was 12 years old.

My problem with the situation arised was when Red, the writer of Nevermore, posted a lengthy explanation that was pretty poorly worded. She used phrases about the situation, such as "egged on" or "cried wolf" about being sent this sexual content, saying it was the job of minors to stay safe on the internet. I was raising my eyebrow at that point, because the whole thing sounded rather victim-blamey.

Red then said that the evidence was faulty and suspicious for being heavily censored ( i don't know the full extent of the censoring ), and because of the fact it came from one person, an adult who was friends with some of the people who had been banned, implied reporting that behavior was all some sort of tatic to get one person they didn't like banned.

When a ton of people were (understandably, in my opinion) very upset by this response, including the victims, and other neutral parties, Red got very upset and started lashing out. I understand It had to be a stressful situation, having tons of people talking at you at once, but she started saying rather guilt tripping things, such as "I'm a horrible person then" "everything I do is actually for evil purposes", stuff along those lines. Admittedly, the situation was pretty upsetting to me, so once Red started saying those things I left. I might return to Nevermore one day, if there's signs of change and the like. I still deeply enjoy the comic, and the community! I don't think RnF are horrible people, I just think they worded this very poorly, and then continued to lash out when it didn't go as excepted lmao I'll grab some of the screenshots I took, and ask if my friends have any to add! If anyone else has anything to add about the situation, please do so in the notes or reblogs! I'm just saying my perspective here, and why I chose to leave! There might have been things I missed! screenshots below!

anyways, those are all the screenshots i have on haha, again for the millionth time I dont want this to become a massive big drama

[skzoologist]

Will you stay?

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

summary: Old wounds are torn open, but Bae has someone by his side, always.

a/n: I am not back yet, I won't pretend I am. But I can offer this short fic, if anything.

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Bae didn’t know what to feel.

In one moment he was just having a relatively good time, joking around with the others and watching as Minho was once again chasing around Hyunjin for whatever the weasel had said. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them, the group loud and energetic even when they weren’t in front of the cameras. And he truly enjoyed that, even if he was the black sheep amongst them, with how quiet he usually was.

But then the next thing he knew, his sight grew slightly blurry, the softest of tremors running through his hands. He was holding his phone, feeling it vibrate in his pocket. So naturally, he fished it out of there, not wanting to miss out on anything possibly important.

The first row of the message in itself was enough to make his breath stop, even though it was only a few words that popped up in the notification.

Glancing around, he saw that everyone else was busy, nobody paying him any mind, thankfully. Bae was also glad that he’d decided to sit alone this time, not squished between two of his bandmates on the sofa. He loved them, he truly did, but because of their closely-knit friendship he knew that they would immediately notice if anything was off with him.

Thus, he unlocked his phone and opened the message with a simple flick of his thumb, eyes quickly reading over the several, long rows of words. With each sentence a weight was added onto Bae’s shoulders, his chest constricting painfully.

Why would he get this? And why now?

It had been long months since he had heard from the person who had sent him this message, someone who Bae had called a good friend of his in the past. The two had hit it off back when they had been trainees, finding solace in sharing their hardships and helping the other grow their skills. Friendly chatter had flowed easily between them whenever they’d met, so much so that Chan and the others constantly teased them of being long lost soulmates, even if only platonically.

And Bae would have agreed back then.

But suddenly, that connection started suffering, becoming strained between the two. It was inevitable to a certain extent, since his friend had failed to stay by Bae’s side, leaving the company and chasing after another dream. Still, they kept in touch, telling stories to each other over text or at a rare café visit. And while there had been a slight rift forming between the two friends, it was still easy to jump over, something Bae had tried to fix.

It was all useless, in the end.

That rift had merely grown in size, so much so that fixing it felt like throwing down buckets of water into the endless stomach of the abyss. It was greedy, swallowing up everything, no matter what he’d tried. Every text had only gotten a dry response, the conversations dying out quicker and quicker with each attempt.

And after a while, Bae had stopped.

It felt useless, chasing after somebody who didn’t even slow down so he could catch up. But Bae came to peace with it. It hurt, yes, seeing those ghost conversations still sit in his phone, but people come and go. Such was the way the world worked. Besides, he had 8 boys now to always have by his side, becoming his second family.

So why?

Why was a goodbye letter blinking up at him from his screen, completely unprompted and talking as if he was the one who’d left his friend?

Why?

The air felt heavy in his lungs, each intake a little harder to perform. His hand had automatically shut the device off it held, knowing that if he hadn’t placed it down, he would look even more obvious to the others. It was hard as it is to hide the tremors running through his body, memories he’d buried long ago resurfacing and tearing open old wounds. Those things happened long ago, each and every single one something he had tried his best to forget and never relive. It had already taken him so much effort to reach where he was these days, to not question every little thing, to believe in others and their words.

Yet everything felt like it was crumbling down, years worth of effort just turning into dust, mocking him to rebuild it all again.

He wasn’t sure he had it in himself to do so.

By the time he’d snapped back to reality, Felix was by his side, concern clearly written on the young boy’s face. Bae didn’t hesitate to plaster on a smile, hoping he would buy the fakeness of it.

“I’m fine Felix, don’t worry. Guess ‘m just a little tired from today’s practice.” - he muttered out, flashing a smile at the boy’s direction before standing up, excusing himself.

He couldn’t bear to be there anymore.

Not when those loathed voices were coming back, making him question if they would eventually leave him too, just like everyone else had done so in the past. Would they find him boring after a while, once his cold facade broke away, his loving yet scared self finally revealed to them?

He didn’t want to think about it.

The door closed with a soft click behind him, the lock shifting in place to ensure his solitude. A deep sigh left his chest as he leaned against the door, too exhausted to try and keep those loathsome thoughts at bay anymore. He didn’t have the energy for it, not when his limbs ached and joints screamed, not when his mind was already filled with worries about their next project and comeback.

This one thing was the last drop to break him, his body shaking as tears rolled down his cheeks, staining his clothes and skin. He was usually strong, always there to provide comfort for the others, but tonight, it felt impossible. As if a weight was crushing his whole existence, not allowing him to continue on his path, binding him in place like a chain secured to the depths of the ocean.

All he could do now was to sit there, face buried in his knees, hands tightly wrapped around his shaking form. A hiccup escaped through his lips, loud in the silence of his room. He tried his best to not let any sound escape him, to ride these emotions out alone, not wishing to disturb anyone, but it was useless. He could only pray that no one had heard him, that none of the boys chased after him.

His prayers were left unheard as a soft knock echoed through the space, the vibrations running down Bae’s back. He stilled, unable to even breathe from the shock, only hearing the shifting of clothes besides the loud drumming of his heart.

A few beats of silence passed before a sigh could be heard, yet there was no frustration behind it.

“Dal, baby, I know you’re in there. I can hear you. Please let me in, it hurts to know you’re hurting.” - pleaded Chan, voice so soft Bae couldn’t believe the man was talking to him.

No reply could be heard as Bae’s silent tears continued, shocking him when a loud thump could be felt from behind, the door gently rattling in place once.

“You don’t need to tell me what happened, or what’s wrong, just… know that I’m here, yeah? I’m always here if you need me, always have been. Or so I’d like to believe.” - Chan chuckled, his voice turning into a hushed whisper near the end.

Bae slowly wiped at his eyes, a soft sniffle letting Chan know the boy was still awake and listening.

“You know, I’ve always admired you. Even when we were just young trainees, hardly knowing each other. If someone had a hard day you tried your best to put your differences aside and lended them a shoulder. Even me, no matter how hard I was on you in our training.” - a soft sigh could be heard, one filled with mirth and memories.

Bae remembered those days clearly, being one of the first ones to join the group. He was standoffish and cold, often getting into arguments thanks to that. But at the end of the day, Chan always stuck to him, adamantly chipping away at the walls he had built up.

“I know you might not believe me, especially with how stubborn you are, but we care about you. We all do, me included. Your pain is our pain. And knowing that you’re on the other side of this door, suffering, it pains me. Please, Moonlight, let me in. I can’t bear to hear you cry any longer…” - the elder’s voice cracked at the end, filled to the brim with emotion and hurt.

Clothes shifted and the lock clicked, their leader not hesitating to tear the door open and scoop Bae into his arms. The younger clung to him desperately, hands looped around Chan’s neck, face buried in his chest. The waterworks never really stopped, silently flowing even while the older had been speaking.

The door slowly clicked shut, the two now laid on the soft sea of blankets and pillows.

For a while, Bae just laid there in Chan’s embrace, hiding away from the entire world in his hyung’s steady hold and gentle touches that nearly lulled him to sleep with each stroke over his hair and skin. But he couldn’t sleep, not yet, not when doubts continued plaquing his mind constantly, feeding his fears until they grew impossibly large.

A question left his lips, so quiet that not even Chan could make sense of it.

“What was it, baby? Could you repeat that for me?” - he asked, gently drawing Bae’s face away from his neck to look at him.

“You… you won’t leave me, right?”

Nothing could have prepared Chan for that question, his eyes widening in pure shock and disbelief.

It only took a second longer for his own eyes to water, those warm nebulas looking at Bae with such emotion that it nearly broke the boy.

“Of course not. I’m here to stay, now and forever.”

The two fell asleep in each others’ hold, Chan curled up around Bae as if he was trying to shield the boy from the entire world itself. And for once, Bae let himself be held, desperately clinging onto the other, as if he would disappear in the blink of an eye without any prior notice.

[kyra45]

Keys guide to scam spotting (v2)

Hi! I’m Key (Or Jess depending on which blog you know me from) and I’ll be telling you some better information and detail on how to spot a scam account be it a pet scam or a donation scam. All information is based on my own experiences and I’ll try to keep this post accessible so the only big text is the title. This information should help in understanding how these scams work and how to spot them without having to do too much work. As always, if you appreciate what I do and want to show it, sharing these info posts helps other users see it and learn about blogs that might send them asks.

—

What is a donation scam? - A donation scam is when someone is being deceptive to get money by claiming they need mutual aid or support. For example, they are using the story from someone else’s fundraising post in order to get donations and won’t tell anyone their lying. This is called a donation scam. While the story may be legitimate, it is a story stolen off someone else and means the real person isn’t getting the support they asked for because someone else is using it. These stories are often stolen off Facebook/GoFundMe or even Instagram and could come from a private account or group so searching wouldn’t come up with a source. The images may also be stolen from somewhere else too.

How do you spot a donation scam? - Donation scams are usually easily spotted if you take a closer look at the information being given. Stolen stories will often have certain parts removed and replaced with the information the scammer added themselves. Sometimes the post may be composed of two different parts and won’t sound right if you pay close attention. For example, part of the story sounds fine but then the second part of the story seems out of place and doesn’t match up with the beginning. Another thing to check is how old the account is and if you have timestamps on you can see if an older post is backdated. You can also check to see if the account has tagged certain blogs in their post though this isn’t always a sign of a scam.

What is post backdating? - Post backdating is changing the dates of a reblogged post to look older then it really is. While this can be used with good intentions, scammers often use this to trick people into thinking their account is years old or even a few months old. The one way to find this is by turning on timestamps in dashboard settings and checking ‘other notes’ in reblogs. This is the only way to see the true date something was shared. Accounts who backdate posts will often claim someone told them to do it or they’ll say they didn’t know it was bad. However, you can not accidentally backdate a post.

Did the account contact you first? - A common occurrence is that you will get scam asks if you share a popular or trending post. Usually these accounts send asks to anyone they find without care of who it is and might lie as well if you ask them how they found you. In general, a brand new account shouldn’t easily find you unless they were watching the notes of popular posts. Occasionally these new accounts will even send asks to certain accounts they shouldn’t know about unless they have seen the account before. If your DMs are closed, the ask may ask you to message them because it’s urgent but all they will do is ask for money or ask you to loan them some money.

—

What is a pet donation scam? - A pet donation scam is where someone has went and looked around for vet fundraisers online and then took it for themselves by saving the images and story while erasing any links that would lead to the real pet getting support. They will then repost it to tumblr and say it’s actually their pet needing urgent care with the post title being very large and in red text for a sense of urgency. Sometimes they’ll say they can’t use GoFundMe because it has a fee or something else. This is a scam because they are not the owner of the pet and have stolen everything meaning no funds sent will be towards the actual pets care.

How do you spot a pet donation scam? - A common way of a pet donation scam is by how old the pinned post is and how many posts are reblogged on the account. Usually there is only a few posts shared and always shared around the same time and then no more. These posts all come from a trending topic, a fandom, or are popular posts. Another thing is checking the bio in Google search and seeing if it’s been took from someone else as the scammer never makes their own bio. Reverse image search their pfp to see who it really belongs to in case they stole it. Another important thing is to check their link and see if it matches up with the vet bill. Since most pictures are stolen off a private group, reverse image search won’t find them. The name they may have is likely not their real name and is stolen.

Did the account send you an ask? - Regardless of what the ask says, it usually requests you to answer it privately or message them so they can tell you thanks. These asks may have several emojis in them as well but their always just copy/pasted and sent to multiple users all at once on a daily basis. The private answer is so the ask won’t show up if someone is looking it up. If their post is public, there shouldn’t be a reason to need a private response to an ask you have sent to many people unless you are trying to hide it. Messaging these accounts is useless because they’ll lie to you when you ask them questions back or just ignore you.

—

What is a fake check scam? - A fake check scam is when a generally blank account with no pfp will message you after you used certain tags and ask you if you still need help. Even if you have links to send support, these accounts will ignore that in order to ask for your personal information such as phone number or banking details. They will then offer to send you a check. This is a fake check and cashing it won’t be scamming the scammer. You will lose money instead and the scammer will already move on to someone else. Never give them your private information.

Are there any other scam types? - When you tag posts, you’ll often get messages from accounts claiming they can help you get more attention on your campaign but you have to pay them money or go off-site to contact them. These are fake support accounts and they always use stock images while pretending to be officially affiliated and act like their Digital Marketing title means their not trying to scam you. They get defensive when called out and may start insulting you when they figure out you are already aware they aren’t legitimate.

—

What is a funeral donation scam? - A funeral donation scam is when an account posts saying someone has passed away but the images they used are actually took from someone else and may be photoshopped. Bills may be edited to suit their story and names may be changed to someone else’s. This isn’t a real common scam! But it’s happened a lot lately but the basics are the account will steal someone’s pictures and pass them off as theirs and when caught will say they were forced to or know it’s wrong but did it anyway.

—

In closing, this is information regarding common scam types you’ll find on tumblr. It’s always suggested to pay close attention to asks you get it they fit the criteria of being sent from a scammer. Answer the asks publicly and call out the blog. The scammer may block you as a result, but it’ll help your ask be seen it someone has looked it up. I suggest never spamming asks to share your pinned aid post because unfortunately scammers do this and you shouldn’t ignore people saying to please stop spamming. Always check to see if someone is comfortable getting these kinds of asks too because it won’t look too good if you have sent them an ask when they say please don’t.

As always, not everyone asking for support is a scammer! Legitimate people are out there. It’s just unfortunate scammers have made it harder for them to get help. You can always do your own research and compare it to what others have given and come to your own conclusion.

[lemotmo]

SWAT Lou speculation

So, earlier today I posted this post on my blog. In it I asked about where all this ‘Lou getting a bigger part in SWAT’ information was coming from. I have been looking around for casting information on SWAT season 8 and I couldn’t find anything official.

I asked this question because over the last week I’ve been receiving some highly interesting information and speculation on the SWAT casting for season 8.

BE AWARE that all that is in this post is based upon hearsay and rumours. As long as nothing official has been posted by Lou or CBS, all of this could just be interesting speculation, but ultimately not true. Whether it is true or not, I found it interesting enough to post about. Speculating is one of the fandom things I enjoy most. As long as it stays respectful and doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s a fun thing to do. But since it is only speculation, this could all turn out to be wrong. But in the meantime we have something fun interesting to talk about during hiatus.

Okay, it all started with a wonderful SWAT Sherlock Nonny (Nonny 1) who had some intriguing information to share. I’m not going to post the entire ask they sent me, but I’m cutting out the parts that are most interesting.

18 June: (he = Lou)

When I received this ask I thanked the Sherlock Nonny (Nonny 1) and asked them to keep me updated if they found anything else. Here is what they sent next.

I'm putting the rest under a cut, because it gets loooong! :)

19 June:

Then, three days ago, yet another anon (Nonny 2) messaged me with the following.

23 june:

Speed forward to today, when I received another message from yet another anon (Nonny 3) as an answer to my question on where people got all this SWAT information.

This person basically shared a post with me that they saw on someone’s blog and they felt it was a very interesting read and interesting information for us to know about.

26 june:

Can I just say how thoughtful and interesting that answer is. I have been called so many horrible things for pointing out that Lou's character is a plot device and I've been reading so many angry, hateful and spiteful posts about this topic that I’ve come to expect the same tone for all the posts about this subject. But this person isn’t spewing hate. They are just talking about the reality of where this storyline is going. I appreciate and respect that a lot. So please, can we at least treat this person with the same kind of respect? I really don't want to see any hate towards this person in the comments or reblogs. Thank you.

So, that’s about it. It’s a waiting game now on whether or not Lou did get a bigger role on SWAT. It could all be a coincidence and by next week he might be back happily tweeting about 911, but for now this is a plausible theory.

All we can do is wait and see how this story will unfold.

Thoughts?

[bambinella]

Rumors pt 2

I recently made a post to address the ongoing situation, and I feel like I have to address it yet again, since it’s getting out of hand. 

First of all, I want to apologize to everyone that got involved in this mess, especially the tickle community. I’ve been part of this community for many years now, and I’m enraged by all the hate all of you are receiving by this anon. None of you should be in this situation, and I definitely want to get out of it. I’ve been trying to keep this wildfire contained, but anon is targeting literally anyone right now, be it people who follow me or people who’ve never heard of me before.

In my previous post I mentioned that I suspect ticklee25 to be behind the anon hate, but I didn’t specify or clarify why. Since I still think it’s her, I will explain my thoughts on the why. I’m aware that the messages are still anonymous, so I cannot say with 100% certainty that it’s her, but there are certain details I wish to address.

For starters, the anon hate started on the day I blocked her. ticklee25 and I chatted on discord for a while, and after she became rude, insulted me and my interests and started calling me several times in the middle of the night, knowing of our 5 hour difference, I removed her as a friend. The next day she reached out on tumblr asking me why, yet since I was out all day I hadn’t seen it so I didn’t respond. Then I came back to another message where she was gaslighting me into being a bad friend, which ended with ‘bye’. I removed her as a friend on tumblr too and simply deleted the conversation, since I thought that was gonna be the end of it. Alas, it was not. When she returned with yet another message to insult me some more, I blocked her. That’s when the hateful rumors started spreading. At the time I had no idea I'd have to take screenshots to collect proof, so this is all I have on this matter.

Secondly, some of the anon hate messages had my real name in it. Since my name is not on my tumblr page, you’ll only know my name if you either know me in real life or if we chatted. This indicates that the anon hate is being spread by someone I talked to before. I have no quarrel on tumblr with anyone else, so this points yet again in her direction. Seems a little too suspicious to me to be a coincidence.

The first anonymous message (as far as I know) was sent to my close friend @otomiyaa, which claimed that I was a pedophile. It quite frankly shocked me since I was not prepared for the anonymous hate. I naively thought it would stay with that simple message, and then I thought it would stay with otomiyaa. For a while it did, as she kept receiving several anonymous messages which insulted me. It went from me being a pedophile, to being fat and ugly, to being a shitty writer, which heavily reminded me of the last message I’d received from ticklee25. Then it started spreading to other people, since anon didn’t get the satisfaction of a reply. They first targeted everyone who interacted with me, and when those accounts defended me they moved on to people that don’t follow me and minors.

I have an entire list of rumors being spread about me, from very serious to simply stupid, but it sadly didn’t stay with just rumors. Anon here took it upon themselves to send anonymous messages warning everyone that I spread hate into the tickle community, only to send the hateful anonymous message themselves while tagging me in it. Most people instantly realized that it would be really stupid to send an anonymous message and tag yourself in it, so they knew it wasn’t actually me sending the messages. Here are some examples:

Another thing I have noticed is how, despite me blocking ticklee25, the anonymous hate continued being sent. Some argued that this was a good enough reason for me to change my mind, that it couldn’t be her. However, after looking into it I noticed how several blogs, who were reblogging hate about me, hadn’t even been up for 24 hours, or spammed within mere seconds of each other. Very suspicious again. Some of these blogs are lifeisstrangeenthusiast, swiftlyticklish and ticklelover5.

So, I simply want to clarify some things. I am not a pedophile. I have not been sending hate to people from the tickle community. I have not been sending hate towards minors. I have never forced someone to do something they’re uncomfortable with. I am not a groomer. I am not trying to steal your partner. There may be more rumors, but these are the ones I wanted to address. And to be perfectly clear, I am not the jesus anon.

If you get messages like these, please know that it’s not me. I literally have no reason to spread hate, and I don’t want to stoop to this level. Like I said before, I’m only here for fanart, fanfics and da gays. 

I turn myself directly to the anon now. I suspect you've created multiple accounts to keep spreading hateful messages, no matter how many times I’ve blocked you. You could have reached out to me and spared everyone the pain, but you wanted to cancel me so badly so instead you decided to make it everyone’s problem, even going as far as targeting minors. You’re pathetic. I’ve taken the next step, and unlike you I do have screenshots to back me up.

Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has backed me up over these past 6 weeks. You’ve all helped me more than you realize, and I love each and every one of you. I'm super grateful.

@otomiyaa @rach-amber @thebest-medicine @whatsjulietslastname @amazingmsme @turtlee-rockin @toweroftickles @wild-lee-ticklish @softleesam @fluffomatic @ticklerfluff @atlaslunacozycorner @a-ticklish-banshee @objectfromthesky @kaseylovesbayley @knizmokat @wheezylee-jay

Longest post of my life, but it had to happen. I hope we can end the bs now, because I'm honestly done with it.

Update: I didn't have to wait long, as suspected, until someone was getting pissy about my post. @ticklelover5 decided to spread screenshots of random conversation with ticklee25 before the drama started, which only confirmed my suspicions that they're the same account and same person. Thing is, all her replies somehow have mysteriously disappeared! Shocker. So it looks like I'm just talking to myself like a fool. And this somehow adds to her cancel campaign? Proving that I'm horrible because I was talking? I'm confused and pissed, but I kinda expected this when I made this post. I'll post them here too, so you can see what I'm talking about.

Not gonna lie, the fact that she's been blocked back in december and somehow still has my conversation is kind of sickening to me. The fact that it's my current pfp and not the one from my screenshot means she just screenshotted these to try and get some dirt on me. I'm glad I got out of this friendship just in time, and I would have left sooner if I knew the level of psycho I'd be dealing with.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

WYD💬2

Part 1 |

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can’t refuse.

(based on suggestion he’s been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your stomach writhes like worms in the dirt. You sit in the back of the uber, uneager to be at your destination. The driver asks if it’s a special occasion and you just sort of mutter. You look down at yourself; you’re sure dressed for something special.

It’s plain enough. A classic little black dress. Thick straps and a simple silhouette. Still, it’s tighter than you’re used to. You dressed it up with a slender silver chain that holds a heart charm and a velvet clutch. Your usual cotton and wool pale in comparison.

You watch on the GPS as the car moves closer and closer to the endpoint. You take out your phone and check the messages. You can barely read any of it as your hands jitter.

You’re being stupid. This is dangerous and stupid. You can’t meet a stranger. Even if he did pay you to do so. Even if you really need the money. You should just send it back.

‘Reservation for Barnes. The hostess will seat you.’

He sent that about an hour ago. His anticipation has only been met by your silent dread and dulcet agreement. It’s one thing to post photos online, faceless at that, but to meet a man like this. This is more than just posing and primping for a camera.

You thank the driver as he pulls up to the restaurant. You get out reluctantly and linger along the curb, tipping the uber as an excuse to take your time. You look up at the dusky facade and gulp. The cursive moniker assures you of your displacement. 

You take a breath and cross the broad sidewalk. You dodge out of the way of another couple entering the restaurant. You don’t follow them as you hover outside. There were at least a few decades between the pair; what is this place?

You hug your wrap tight and teeter on your heels as you try to see through the tinted windows. You need to scare yourself out of this. You get one look at this guy and you’re gone. You’re running the other direction. Only then will it really be real. Only then will you get a bit of sense in you. 

“Just in time, doll,” a deep voice crawls up your spine and you gasp as you twist around to face the speaker. 

Your ankle bends dangerously as your heel catches in the pavement. You bat your lashes up at the stranger; it’s him. He’s even more handsome in person. It almost takes your breath away.

“Uh, hi,” you murmur. Your escape is foiled. Your second doubts are crushed in that instant. You don’t have the courage to walk away. If he’d never seen you, you could've easily scurried back to your hole and deleted everything. “Mr. Barnes?”

He laughs. His smile is deadly. He puts his hand on your arm, bold but casual.

“Bucky,” he offers, “come on,” he checks the watch on his other wrist, “we’re late.”

He nudges you towards the door, bringing his hand down to hover along your lower back. You walk forward numbly. You don’t know what else to do but go with it.

He opens the door and ushers you ahead of him. The hostess greets him as ‘Mr. Barnes’ and is prompt to lead you through the dim lounge. A round booth awaits you near the back of the restaurant.

The hostess takes your wrap and you place your clutch on the seat as you settle onto the curved cushion. Bucky sits and orders a bottle of Shiraz. You fight to keep your shoulders up, trying to wilt in the luxury of the place. You’re an assistant librarian, what are you doing here?

He slides to the back of the booth, reaching over to wrap his hand lightly around your wrist. He tugs until you reticently shimmy closer. You keep your eyes on the table, fumbling with the wrapped silverware.

“Nervous,” he says. You nod and still the cutlery. “Me too.”

You’re surprised by his confession. He must do this all the time. He’s rich and handsome and oh, how stupid you really are. Of course you’re just another in the long line. 

You look up at him, flinching as you find him watching you. You wonder if your lipstick is patchy or if you smeared your eye liner again. You bring your hands back into your lap and wring them.

You notice the gray patch among the short stubble along his jaw, a few more strands of silver laced around his temples. His hair is smoothed back but the longer strands threaten to fall forward. He lifts his arm coolly and rests it on the seat behind you. He smells amazing.

“I…” you begin. “I think I made a mistake.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but otherwise, he does not react.

“How do you know? You haven’t even made the mistake yet,” his hand drifts down to tickle your shoulder, “one glass of wine. How about that? You have one glass before we order, then you can decide.”

“I… I’m not what you think I am,” you utter.

“Doll, you’re exactly what I want,” he winks just before he turns away, another dashing smile sent to the waitress as she arrives with the wine.

One drink. You can do that.

[sharp-rosee]

Hey funny story: I haven't been around Tumblr at all for months, but today someone told me menalez had deactivated or something so I came on here and looked it up. First result was a post by you, i checked out your blog and wouldn't you know it your most recent post had you defending me post mortem lmfao. I sent an anon to the other woman too but it seems she won't post it so to clarify to you: when I supposedly said "studies showing violence suffered by bisexuals are cringe and useless" what I remember thinking about that is that those studies that I've seen are never used to try to understand why bisexuals suffer such insane rates of violence (more than homosexuals) and trying to stop it. I've only seen them be used as battering rams in discourse when homosexuals criticize bisexuals. Which is crazy for such a serious issue and totally trivializes it lol. Also that my explanation for it was that such studies show that many abused people incorrectly id as bi for a time. You can disagree or wtv just those were my points, she made it sound like I'm cheering on women beating if they're bi or something. Also your defense of me (thanks queen lol) is accurate if you were wondering. I used to be sorta pro strict separatism but I outgrew the anger/ denial phase of "most women will partner with men" and reached acceptance. Most people are built for romantic partnership, that's just human nature, I can't be hating het women just because their lot in life in that means they're more likely to be abused. Just because I'm not drawn to men, or even much to romance, doesn't mean I should act like that's everyone else too and judge them on that standard, I accept reality and want women to be safe within that rather than pointlessly hate on them and get all worked up because some women have boyfriends..

Well I'm also a mean asshole, I'm sure you noticed, and I definitely would give the bi girlies on radblr a hard time here at the time lol. I don't have the "one side" sort of takes on this divide on radblr. It was funny but I can't feel the energy to that anymore since leaving tumblr, way too few bis or gays irl to care about that stuff. But at the end of the day these are my actual takes on all that disk horse. Funny to see it immediately on such a causal stroll around here lol

-sleep3r4gent

QUEEN I used to follow you ♡ at least when I was crypto a few years back I did.

Also, I'm glad you clarified because the way some women on here seem to hallucinate things they read almost makes me feel insane as well. Like you sending an ask saying you never thought of a certain perspective is not indicative of you agreeing and obviously one can change their opinions over time.

I really have no opinion either way tbh, I myself am straight and in a relationship, and have had others on my last blog send some anons calling me a "dick worshipper" and other misogynistic BS, but they stopped once I didn't let it bother me much. It's so obviously a group of trolls that it's embarrassing that they still believe it enough to keep bringing back the same users, some like you who aren't even misogynistic, to further their persecution complex.

It even is more annoying because these are the women who made Mena/Moideater leave, the above drama is a big reason why. The way radblr will still reblog posts from very racist blogs and not bat an eye but then freak out over a clique of women who aren't even radfems really does show what demographic makes up this site.

I know it gets exhausting to be involved in arguments, but it's nice to know you're still somewhat around. I hope you, Mena and Moid come back someday. If not I understand. But I'll never forget any of them and I haven't forgotten you 😭😭😭

[preyseisgone]

Hi ! This is a callout post on @gloomylace also known as @clingyidol. Before I start , I hate doing these kind of things and it took me alot of effort (+ encouragement from friends ) to do this. Also please do not go and harass Lolita. Cher is a minor and I just overall do not condone harassment. I was originally going to stay quiet .

tw for , abuse , r//pe , violence suicide and more .

Before I start , “weren’t you two just friends ?” Yes but that is until this popped up in my feed. Lolita and another friend are the only two people that know about a situation that roughly happened 2 ~ ish days ago. I was insanely panicked and anxious being accused of stuff like this. I know this is Lolita on anon due to being my ONLY friend in the editblr community and the only one who knows this situation. (besides Avery, Avery isn’t on editblr or the same scenes as me) You know how deeply this affected me. So yeah kinda your fatal flaw assuming I tell my life story to more then 2 people 🤷 also STOP using fucking freyr on me. 🤍 massively appreciated. “An Ex friend” I have only one long term friend and that is Avery 🤍 I am not a fucking freak and copy people , even if I do have identity issues I know it’s weird to copy someone! This is really fucking low of you Lolita and I genuinely trusted you with information and my thoughts and feelings! But no you went behind my back for no reason. It seems like you wanted a reason to turn on me. 🤍

First of all , Lolita said this ! At the time , I did not know anything about oyasumi punpun . I don’t willfully consume media with the following topics

I am massively triggered by almost ALL of those topics . I felt like I was being essentially compared to an abuser , which overall made me feel very, very icky. When confronted about this - ( as seen in the images below )

Lolita ignored me . Cher has done this to another friend of cher’s , making an uncomfortable joke and then when confronted went on a dni and days later replied with something random . Lolita cannot take responsibility for cher’s actions. Che just ignores you essentially and then replies with something random! I am just sick of this behaviour and I will not be surprised if che or someone else will spread rumours about me JUST because I came out about this. I originally thought this wasn’t serious enough to be a call-out post and I felt like I was being overdramatic.

these two screenshots ^ .

multiple people (including me) have had their mental health DRAINED due to your actions. You have lied multiple times. It’s also such a coincidence that hate anons seem to follow you around and when asked you blame it on your exes ? In reality you probably sent them and you sent someone into a really bad episode! You make baseless claims off of little to no proof, broke SEVERAL boundaries of one of your ex partners. You also compared one of your bfs to someone who abused you which is just! plain! fucking wrong. You claim to have high empathy / sympathy and yet when someone who is also mentally ill did not react well over small things you went to shittalk them to their boyfriend.

props to you if you defend a liar and someone who makes nazi jokes xx lying about your exes stalking and harassing you is fucking crazy! Also sent my personal messages to someone and talked shit about me so yeah !

@artistrydoll + @magnoliawriter please reblog if you see this . ^_^

[kairiscorner]

OMG IF YOU WANT PLS DO WRITE THE FIC ABOUT MIGUEL SEEING OUR THIRST TRAPS 😭 salamat talagaaaa wala na kasi akong maisip maliban kay miguel

HELLOOOOO, OFC I WILL ANON, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS HEHE this is another excuse to make more text fics bc it's starting to feel fun for me LMAO <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

is it not for me? – miguel o'hara x reader (reacting to your thirst traps)

a/n: kind of suggestive shit underneath the cut, sorry if you don't like it, you have every right to scroll away ^^

after getting used to the controls and operations on social media and understanding the basic goal, or lack, of it–miguel had begun scrolling through his feed like you and lyla directed him to do. he scrolled and scrolled through the endless photos, videos, and posts sent his way by the very strange algorithm of the app. he still hadn't found the right thing for him on social media and he honestly wouldn't be here if you and lyla didn't force him to try it out so much, but when he least expected it... he happened upon your account.

he saw a photo of your back, it was you taking a selfie in the mirror with hardly anything covering your back. your behind was in full view but covered up, the lighting was dim, save for the flash of your phone's camera. the caption read: "for m, hoping you'll enjoy this three-course meal 🍓"

...that did something to miguel. it set some sort of feeling off of him, something that urged him to not just click like, but to comment right then and there: "who the shock is 'm'?" but if only he knew how to comment; all he knows how to do is click like and scroll.

he clicked the like button, unsure of how to feel about that very... eye-catching photo of yours. he tried shaking the feeling off, but he just couldn't; he couldn't stop thinking about it. he scrolled back up to see who else liked your photo, it took him a few tries to figure out how to do that. he also saw a few of the preview comments, complimenting your looks and tagging their friends who had 'm' in their names–joking that the photo was for them.

it pissed miguel off that these people could think your photos were for them, when you promised him you were all his. it damaged his ego slightly, but he figured these people were just douches, simple as that.

...but he needed to be doubly sure, so he click on your profile and looked through the posts you made. you really did love showing off your behind, it seemed like you were incredibly proud of it; miguel's totally in love with your ass, don't get him wrong, bur to know other people could see it and get to revisit the sight of your ass? oh, that made him feel a bit of a stinging pain in his chest.

he hated that feeling, where he felt like you were sharing intimate bits of yourself when you kept reminding and telling him you're all his. that, and as he scrolled through your comments, he saw a lot of people who not only loved your photos and sent you many compliments, but many who told you to get off the platform–many also catcalled you in the comments, too, much to his disgust.

"can't even keep this shit in real life, what losers." he muttered under his breath as he felt his anger rise as he kept scrolling through your comment section. he had gone through almost all of your posts, memorizing all the details of your posts and how you looked in them, feeling his face and chest flare up in a fit of heat as he looked through them all one by one. he sighed as he noticed you were a little too bold in these photos, in his opinion. he didn't want you to jeopardize yourself, seeing as how there were a lot of creeps on your account, he wanted to bring it to you attention.

hence, he messaged you all about his concerns.

"for... her mother?" miguel repeated to himself as he reread your message to him. he sighed, not believing your excuse one bit, believing you directed it to someone with an 'm' in their name, like him, but he decided to play along for now to get you to fess up eventually. that, and he doesn't think you'd wish your mom would have a lovely three-course meal with your ass picture, but he did see that you took pictures of food afterwards, so... it was plausible. but you were not off the hook yet.

he sighed as you laughed at his attempt at guessing who that post was for, who 'm' was. he felt a little embarrassed, a little ashamed he thought it was him, but then he thought of who would be closest to you, had 'm' in their name, and would enjoy the three-course meal that was... you already know what. he sighed as he typed and retyped his message after deleting the previous one, trying to get himself together after outing himself as being a little expectant that those thirst traps were for him.

he finally messaged you, trying to sound stern over text, but he was completely ignored by you when you sent him a selfie of your bottom half, with little letters on your bottom that read: "good????? bad????? should i get em....."

fuck, you baited him again.

he felt his cheeks grow hot and his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at your photo for a second, hoping you wouldn't post this, that this could remain as just a little thing between you two. but then again, he couldn't control you, so he'd just try to respond back–seeming unfazed. hopefully.

he was so easy to please sometimes.

moral of the story?

miguel loves your ass and wants to beat up the creeps in your comments section, while making it known to both you and the world that your ass is all for him–nobody else.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf

[prettyinpwn]

Please Reblog to Solve a Fandom Mystery

So... long story short, I'm an ancient, crusty old part of the Gravity Falls fandom, best known forgotten for having made the original Stan twin theory post that got it going on Tumblr back in the day when the show was airing. AKA the person that predicted Ford conclusively first before Not What He Seems even aired. Here's the original post in question from eons ago:

Or... at least I thought I was.

I have a bit of a conundrum I'm wondering if anyone can answer, or if anyone from the fandom from that time - like I am - might remember. See... for a very long time, I always thought the 'someone on Tumblr cracked the case, so we made the McGucket hoax' quote from the GF commentaries meant my blog and post was the one that scared Hirsch into making the hoax, but then I realized:

My theory had the McGucket hoax in it (I believed it hook, line, and sinker, too - thanks Alex, you plaid rascal). So... the McGucket hoax wasn't made in reaction to MY Stan twin theory post on Tumblr, which means... someone else's was.

But here's the thing: I was OBSESSED with GF at that point (who am I kidding, still am, the brainrot in me is strong), constantly refreshing and checking the tags and the people I followed every day for hours on end, deep in the theorist side of the fandom, and I do not remember anyone having fully made a post like mine that "cracked the case"... until mine. The idea or suggestion that Stan might also have a twin existed, sure, but as far as I know, no one fully proved it until me, with the above post rounding up all the evidence.

So... then who DID? Does anyone remember or has found anything from those days that conclusively proves what post was the one that sent Hirsch into a frenzy to make the hoax? Because I'm pretty sure now it wasn't mine.

The absolute earliest mention I personally remember was on the Mystery Shack forums, I think they were called, but once again... not sure by who, and it was without evidence and was just a 'wouldn't it be cool for Stan to have a twin, too?' type deal, iirc. And my theory post itself from back then says it was already a circulating idea, so it must have existed elsewhere, first, but I for the life of me CANNOT remember any posts before mine that fully solved the plot twist.

My one thought is that - and this is how I remember it - me saying "the famous amongst Fallers Stan twin theory" in my original twin theory post was me mis-stating theory when really it was only a 'what if?' idea at that point, but... then again, the McGucket hoax was made before my twin theory post, so there must have been an earlier Tumblr post than mine, right?

Anyways, sorry for the long explanation, but I wanted to explain my thought process and what I remember. Please reblog to help me solve the mystery! The more this gets reblogged, the more people who might remember from back then might see this and know the answer. Or maybe a newer fan that's delved into super old posts in the fandom might have seen one earlier than ~July-Aug 2013 (roughly right after Dreamscaperers was released) that cracked the case before my post did at that time.

[sgiandubh]

Ad hominem

Alright, BIF. I let you shine your yellow light all night long on your blog. You specifically call me out as, at best, uninformed and at worst, a liar. It is my (legal, ethical, etc) right to answer.

You quote me and you add a long list of shippers who sent you comments and Anons, just to prove me wrong. It is your strictest right, of course:

This is exactly what I did write. But let's see a bit closer your 10 entries list. Curious people can check it here: https://www.tumblr.com/brian-in-finance/751660983126294528/kudos-for-saving-all-these-comments-and-anons-bif?source=share:

Out of those 10 entries, 7 are made before I entered the fray - unless you think I am a maniac, I had no clue about it. Out of those 7, #4 at least was written by a person I blocked myself. And #7 is anything but hateful (SHW does not need another lawyer, of course, but it stroke me as very representative of what you people do ALL THE TIME) - it is simply a decent, but firm answer:

If a different opinion is 'sowing hate or spreading doubt', kudos to you, lady, indeed. But let's continue, shall we?

Entry #8 is an Anon. God only knows who wrote it. Perhaps a shipper. Perhaps one of your people. Perhaps yourself. It's not unheard of, after all. I never did anything remotely like that on my own page. Sending myself Anons is simply idiotic (hell, I never sent any Anon after starting my own blog, for that matter). I have no idea who dunnit. Anons are Anons. And it is a nasty one. Unnecessarily so. Entry #10 is also an Anon, so same modus operandi by you, here: you include something impossible to prove conclusively. And you know it. Entry #9 is by someone I have no way or wish to identify (typical sock account avatar, so probably one of those) and who called you 'dumb' on your own page. She shouldn't have. It is naive at best and disingenuous at worst. It's poor taste, indeed and it brings absolutely nothing to the table. That person should have written a post about it on her own blog - but I am not that person, BIF, so 🤷‍♀️.

That being said, let's see how your ever serviceable friend, Miss Marple, does in the calumny department. Before anything else, it is absolutely correct she NEVER leaves comments on adverse pages. She just loses her temper, from time to time, on her own page - don't we all?

She writes in her long reblog of your post (FYI, the correct term is 'beliefs', not the one being used):

Guess what? I also have a list, BIF. A list of personal attacks by this user. Directed at me. Maybe it's not as long as yours, but it is there, alright. I have often thought of compiling it, but somehow never got around to it. I am not going to post it, because I do not want you people to cannibalize my time. From calling me a nut case, to comparing me to Emily White, to accusing me of insulting her deceased mother, to belittling me, to publicly denouncing me towards a third party, I have seen it all from that woman.

One more time - what she thought to be a personal insult to her mother, is in fact an idiom:

I used it to mean she would do just about anything to achieve clicks and traffic. But hey, for sure, victimization is a way better strategy.

Your problem with me is a personal one. That goes for both of you. But it just goes to show how intolerant you are towards different opinions, how irritated you are when you are called out for being wrong about things and ultimately, how terribly useless this whole thing is.

Below is something to reflect upon, BIF. Not about your reliable friend, but about another troll. Her Opinions Only, of course 🐮:

That is all. You do you, all of you, by all means. But whenever you mention me, you should expect an answer. For the time being, this is my response to you.