#this is just me being extremely pissed off at the state of my brain and trying to accept it and be nice to myself

[lizzieisright]

can you write something like alpha!abby that gets a little too alpha with omega reader and it pisses them off

Okay so in my Abbyland alpha!Abby would never get too alpha with her omega because this girl is Whipped and drinks her respect omega juice. However, tlou!Abby will definitely be an anxious asshole of an alpha and will act like this early in your relationship, so here it is.

This the same omega!reader x alpha!abby from this story.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It's hard, being an omega who goes on patrols in WLF. It's even harder when you've got an alpha.

Abby has learnt her lesson the first time she tried to get bossy with you (the knife at her throat was pretty convincing), but that time she was just so fucking full of herself it was easy to resort to violence.

Now, Abby is a little scared of you; or, more precisely, she is scared of losing you over stupid alpha posturing. She knows you won't hesitate to put her in her place, but she doesn't want to be this kind of alpha to you. She has seen you at your most vulnerable, she saw your fear. She doesn't want this.

However.

There's one thing Abby literally couldn't help - she doesn't even notice it, how it happens, but she gets extremely overprotective.

You come back from the briefing and start packing, and Abby watches you until you notice her.

"Isaac got a mission for me. It's for three days." You tell her.

"Alone?"

"No, two new alphas are also coming. I haven't learnt their names yet." You say offhandedly, like it's not a big deal.

But Abby's brain short-circuits right after "two new alphas". She doesn't even register as her eyes turn red, her scent gets suffocating and the she says the worst possible thing in the worst possible way - she uses her voice.

"You're not going."

You feel awful the moment Abby says it, and you take a second to breathe through it. Alpha voice is painful to disobey, her presence and scent are pressing you into the ground and something in you really wants to cry and start apologising, but you've been through too much shit to bend over for an alpha. "Come again?" You growl menacingly, your body going into a fighting state. You disobey an alpha? Get ready for a fight. "You are. Not. Going. Three day mission with two other alphas? I don't fucking think so." Abby stands up and you know she is going to get in your face, all puffed up. She is staring you down like you're a naughty child and this is a last straw.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You growl in her face. "I'm not your goddamn property."

"I'm protecting you!" Abby growls and keeps getting in your space, which backfires immediately.

"I don't need your protection." You hiss.

The time itself stops.

Abby freezes like you've slapped her. The sudden silence is heavy and you know you shouldn't have said that. But Abby shouldn't have used her voice on you.

At least you shocked Abby enough so she stops suffocating you with her scent and presence, and you take a breath with you full chest as your headache subsides.

Abby watches you as you recover from disobeying her and she feels cold all over. She did this. Your words hurt, sure, but she did this: she made her omega suffer, she caused you literal pain. This is the opposite of protection.

"I'm so-" Abby starts saying, but you look at her, tired but sharp, and she shuts her mouth.

"I'm going. We'll talk when I come back." You tell her as you put a few other things in your backpack. "Otherwise I'll do something I regret."

You say it to yourself, but Abby hears it.

She fucked up. She fucked up big fucking time.

While you're away on the mission, Abby drives herself crazy: she is so worried for you she can't eat or sleep. She is worried that if everything goes to shit, the last thing she did was using her voice on you. She is worried that you're alone with two alphas and how much do you have in you to stand up to them. She's worried that everything is fine but the moment you see her you will dump her because she got so scared she turned into a controlling asshole.

You come back, just a few bruises on you and a jammed gun that gives Abby a heart attack (you were out there with a jammed gun? You had nothing to protect yourself with?). It should be a pretty serious damage if you couldn't fix it yourself, and it scares Abby even more. She knows you're insanely good with firearms and this is the last thing that could happen to you.

And of course it happened when you were on a mission without her.

Abby meets you as an anxious mess who barely slept and ate for three days and used her growling as the only means of communication. You know this whole situation was hard on her: it's easier for you, since omegas don't get this protective and you learnt to survive fully on your own, but Abby is the way she is because she is protective. She is commanding, ruthless and relentless because she wants to keep everyone safe. She wants to keep you safe - except she chose the worst way of showing it.

And you've calmed down: three days away with two young alphas who were quite sweet and annoying with their protective behaviours reminded you so much of Abby's endearing ridiculousness.

Abby follows you like a puppy, her nostrils flaring because she tries to catch your mood, and you let her have it: you smell safe and happy and a little annoyed so she knows she is still in trouble, but it's enough to relax her. She still absolutely stinks of anxiety and guilt, but at least it's not so sharp anymore.

"Come on, I'll shower and we will talk." You tell Abby and she nods.

"Can I hold your hand?" She asks nervously, like she fully expects you to reject her, like she knows she is on thin ice.

Still, you take her hand and let your fingers interlock. Abby relaxes like she was holding her breath this whole time.

"I'm still mad." You tell her and Abby lowers her head in shame. It's cute. "But we'll be fine."

"Thanks."

When you come back from the shower Abby is waiting for you with a cup of hot tea and a pastry she probably stole from the kitchens because she does use her status for little things. You sit next to her while she watches you, guilty and hopeful you'll except her offerings. You see, endearing ridiculous alpha behaviour.

"You use your voice on me one more time like this I swear to god I'll put a bullet in your knee just on principle." You start, but there's some lightness in your tone that makes Abby smile a little. "I know you got all protective and shit, but you can't command me. Unless I ask you to."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you like this." Abby says with her whole heart and fuck, you just want to hug the shit out of her and make this awful desperate smell go away. "I learnt how to control it, but I got so scared it just- I didn't even notice I was doing it."

"Good thing I'm a stubborn motherfucker who can disobey anyone."

And Abby knows it's true: if you haven't been able to disobey her and get pissed off, you'd have started crying from pain and apologising and this would have been so much more heart-breaking.

"I'm sorry I said I don't need your protection." You tell Abby, because you know this hurt her too. "Well, yeah, I don't actually need it, but I want it. I love when you take care of me." You nod at the cup and the pastry.

"Thanks. I needed to hear this." Abby smiles and you smile back.

"You wanna go stick your nose in my neck and cuddle until your anxiety goes away?"

Abby nods.

You spend the day cuddling and discussing your mission and what went wrong and why, but Abby calms down enough to actually fall asleep for the first time in three days, nose right in your scent glands while you caress her back, and you know you two will be okay.

And if Abby does use her voice again. Well, you are insanely good with guns.

[ysaefinn]

adding onto the piss thing.. do we think sugu would be the type to spank your p*ssy if you’re holding it in? the brain worms are telling me yes.

ALSO, responding to your tags you left in my ask, oh my god his hands are huge, i know spankings hurt soo bad 😭 you are not coming out of a spanking sesh unscathed. even if it’s only ten, your ass is HOT and you will not be able to sit properly for a few days.

also, can we talk about his hands more often. they’re massive, one of his hands can cover up one of his tits like i���m sweating.

-🍎

Mdni, piss kink, infantilization, dub con (??) Yandere themes, pussy spankings

Actually we are 100% sure he does this applenon

I WANTED TO SAY THIS FOR THE LONGEST TIME BUT I WANTED TO KEEP THIS AS INCLUSIVE AS POSSIBLE UUUUGHHHH but the constitution clearly states that all brain worms must be shared ☹️

I DO THINK HE SPANKS THE KITTY WHEN YOU'RE FEELING PARTICULARLY STUBBORN!!!!! Though I do think it's an extreme measure for him and that he starts by gently rubbing ur clit to make u release, again with the training u to go limp, you'll give in pretty quickly bcuz at this point he has already conditioned your brain to go blank when he bends you over <33

Another thing that's been haunting me is the thought of Suguru discovering that you're getting wet while spanking you when he pulls his arm back in the air and a long string of slick keeps him connected to ur pussy, so he goes from spanking your ass to spanking ur pussy while you're still bent over on his lap and watching it clench and flutter to fingering you and fitting in as many fingers as possible as punishment bcuz "if you wanna be a desperate naughty baby you're gonna take everything mommy gives and say thank you"

THE FUCKING INABILITY TO SIT OOOOOOOOOOHHHH LOOOORDDDDDDDDDD HAVE MERCY his heart beats in his dick, would definitely make you sit still on his lap for hours to face the consequences of your actions, (he does coo and kiss the top of your head when you start to squirm too much) HE HATES SEEING UR SAD LITTLE PANICKED FACE but again, all leniency goes out the window when he feels like he has to give you what you need. To him, he has to nurture you in every way and that includes discipline, we've already established how and why he thinks making you wet yourself is for your own good, mommy!suguru really just gets off at being a good care taker to you, isn't he just the sweetest?? <333

[dr-spectre]

RANT POST ABOUT CALLIE AHEAD!!!

I need to get some old and built up feelings out of my chest before i explode into a trillion pieces, if you do not wish to see a LONG rambling about me getting mad and rageful about this important character to me then by all means skip over and have a good rest of your day or night!

If you can handle me getting a bit pissed off and mean then keep on reading!!

This will also be a VERY LONG POST!!! Because I have a lot to rant about. Some of it i have talked about before many times but i need to talk about them... Again..

So anyways. If you wanna move on, that's okay, if you wanna stick around? That's all good as well!!! I highly HIGHLY encourage you to read all that I have to say. Okay? Thank you!

You know, as someone who has put in a lot of time and research into Hypno Callie and the others. What I've come to notice in media is that people tend to use the words mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis, influence, indoctrination, corruption, all interchangeably despite each word having vastly different meanings and connotations and effects.

Brainwashing has been used as an incorrect word to describe a lot of these kinds of plots in TV, movies, games, etc. and it really bugs me personally. Like, if you see something as clearly hypnosis, they explain that it is hypnosis and there is a hypnotic element at play here, you cannot just slap the word brainwashing onto it. It's like if I called a mango an apple you know? Or if I showed you a squid and you called it an octopus and you were REALLY adamant that it's an octopus.

Another example, if there's mind controlled zombies that are being controlled by aliens or something, slapping the word hypnotised or brainwashing onto that scenario is stupid because they clearly explained it in the story with evidence that it's straight up direct mind control and nothing else.

This doesn't just to apply to Splatoon btw, this annoyance goes for every other time a "mind control" plot has occurred in fiction.

I don't wanna sound rude here, I really don't! But guys, do you realise that we have this cool thing all across the world called a language? And languages have words in them!!!! And words have meanings in them that are brains understand and interpret!?

If I say the word "fluffy" what do you think of? "Fluff, fur, cute, huggable, adorable." You think of cute fluffy things, yeah?

If I say the word "hypnosis" what do you think of? A trance like state, a weird altered state of consciousness, maybe even a weird sleep/flow state?

If I say the word "brainwashed" what do you think of? Cults, militarily, experiments, evil, etc.

You guys see why I take issue? You guys see why I am extremely picky and laser focused on people's word choices when it comes to Callie and what happened? You guys see why I get really angry when people who do fuck tons of research into the events of Splatoon forget that languages exist and fail to see things past a fucking Wikipedia article?!? Is it seriously THAT hard for some people to say hypnotised?

I don't even necessarily blame most people for the words that they use, they don't know any better! And you know what? That's okay! I don't wanna get mad at SOME people since that word has been used incorrectly in media for a long ass time. And you wanna know another reason why i don't blame the casual fan or someone not in the know that much too? Because even the SPLATOON DEVELOPERS use brainwashing to describe Callie which is just... from my research and posts, incorrect.

I have yet to find a single person who can confidently explain to me that Callie was actually brainwashed and provide evidence to me to prove their points. Cause all I see is people just saying that "oh, a wiki and an artbook said so, so it must be true." Instead of looking at the actual game and looking at Hypno Callie's personality, behaviour, actions, etc. and comparing them to regular Callie.

Why do you think 99% of people call her Hypno Callie? Like there's a reason as to why her name is that in most circles... Have you ever talked to someone who calls her brainwashed Callie? Probably not...

God... I'm really sorry if i come off as some gatekeeping fan or elitist snob or some shit. I'm not trying to be and i don't wanna be like that. I wanna educate people, make people think of a different perspective and make people think a little more you know?

I'm just getting tired of it all... It affects how I see Hypno Callie and the events of Splatoon 2. I can't enjoy it when some people throw out these certain words, and it makes me feel so sad and terrible. And not in an engaging way, just a sadness that fucking stings my chest and I'm SO SICK OF IT!!!!!

I just despise this notion in the Splatoon community, Inkipedia, YouTube videos, social media and official sources that Callie was kidnapped out of the blue when she was alone and Octavio forced the shades onto her, brainwashing her and removing her memories. I hate it so much. It's something that truly fills me with great sadness and pain and pure anger. Callie is a comfort character of mine and to hear that scenario for her in official canon is just... no. I can't accept it. I refuse to accept such a vile and awful thing. It makes the Octarians more evil and way less sympathetic that way too, it makes DJ Octavio's eventual redemption make less sense because in one game he's this fucking monster and the next he's like "Hey guys imma help you out!" It makes his character incredibly inconsistent at that point.

it makes his appearance with Cuttlefish at the Grand Fest feel less satisfying because there this huge black spot on his character from Splatoon 2 where he apparently did something truly evil and unredeemable. Why would Cuttlefish be okay with standing next to a man who """kidnapped and brainwashed"""" his grand daughter?! I don't care about their history together, if i was Cuttlefish and I heard about that kind of event for my grand daughter, I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE OCTAVIO!!!

Hypnosis by nature is less evil and has more nuance and agency for Callie and the Octarians. Sure it's still fucking bad but not as extreme and dark as brainwashing is. The two terms are so vastly different and using either word willy-nilly is extremely annoying and frustrating to me.

Hypnosis ≠ brainwashing and you cannot prove to me otherwise. You literally cannot mind control someone with hypnosis, that's not how it works. They are so opposite of each other it's actually insane. I DON'T GET WHY PEOPLE USE THEM INTERCHANGEABLY ALL THE FUCKING TIME?!?! WHY?!?!!? Is it a lack of knowledge?!? Lack of caring?! Is it because of how hypnosis is portrayed?!?!

And the whole "Callie was kidnapped/abducted." My god... Do people understand what words are coming out of their fucking mouths?

Callie was more than willing to join the Octarians and she said to them "okay fine I'll hear you out." That is not KIDNAPPING!!!!!!!!!! THAT STATEMENT MADE BY CALLIE GOES AGAINST THE DEFINITION OF THE WORD!!!!

I don't know why they say this in some official sources either, i don't know why Inkipedia lists it on their pages. i don't know why fans keep wanting to push this idea that Callie was kidnapped, is it because an artbook said so and nothing in the game? I don't know why timeline explainers and people who do a fuck ton of research into Splatoon push it too. If Callie was kidnapped you figure she would mention it. But she doesn't!!!! Marie does and says she was brainwashed in the North American (NoA) localization, but of course she would think that and from her perspective she would figure that is the case from her limited knowledge of what happened to Callie.

God I just.... I hate it when people say Callie was brainwashed. I fucking despise it. It makes me so violently angry and upset and EVERYONE WHO HAS A LOUD VOICE IN THE COMMUNITY SAYS IT!!!

This doesn't even impact just Callie. It impacts the entirety of the Octarians as a species and DJ Octavio too. I LIKE DJ OCTAVIO!! I THINK HE WAS FUNNY IN SPLATOON 1! I like his role in Splatoon 3 and how he redeems himself and how he appeared in the Grand Festival with Cuttlefish. It ties back to before the Great Turf War when the Inklings and Octarians were on good terms and now finally that peace is back....

But this enjoyment... this appreciation of his character growth gets ruined because of the shit Nintendo did and what the fanbase did when Splatoon 2 rolled around... I can't enjoy Octavio as a character anymore because of the notion that Callie was brainwashed by him.

I can't look at his inkipedia page because IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH THEY SAY HE BRAINWASHED HER!!!!

And don't you EVEN MENTION the line "I remixed Callie's brain!" My brother in Christ, that is not only a call back to a line he said in the final boss of Splatoon 1, but it's also because DJ Octavio is a.. idk... DJ!!!! A DISC JOCKEY!!!! In the NoA version of Splatoon, Octavio's personality is very loud and in your face, compared to his more sinister and intense personality in the European and original Japanese versions. This serious personality was only given to Octavio finally in the NOA version of Splatoon 3 ROTM where his personality actually matches his Japanese and European versions from Splatoon 1 and 2.

Octavio says puns and musical terms to describe shit in the NoA versions of Splatoon 1 and 2. Remixing by definition is taking a song and altering it to make something new. What is Hypno Callie? A REMIX OF CALLIE!!!! It's Callie but she's more aggressive, emotional and impulsive. And you know where we've seen this remix of Callie before? IN SPLATOON 1!!!! IN THE SPLATFEST DIALOGUE!!!!

Octavio didn't literally mean that he "remixed her brain." via actual brain, washing. He just means that he gave Callie a new twist, and Callie in her hypnotic state was like "okay fine I'll hear you out."

Octavio hypnotising Callie who wanted to help the Octarians anyways out of her own free will, planting suggestions into her head that SHE HERSELF ACCEPTED AS DURING HYPNOSIS, SUGGESTIONS GIVEN CANNOT GO AGAINST THE PERSON'S MORALS AND IDEOLOGIES!!! So that Callie would be more likely to stay in Octo Canyon and not decide to suddenly run off as Callie was under a lot of mental distress and emotion from her busy and lonely life, and allowing Callie to put her influence onto Octo Canyon to help his people and boost motivation, fits more in line with Splatoon as a series and Octavio as a character than the whole "he brainwashed Callie" bullshit that has plagued the internet for 7 years and continuing. Why do you think Callie is so chill to see DJ Octavio come back in Splatoon 3 huh? Why do you think she misses shaven Octarians in ROTM? Why do you think she calls Octarians cute? Hmm... I WONDER WHY?!?!?!

Is Octavio still bad? Yes! Did he use Callie to benefit his people? YES!!!! Was Octavio being manipulative and selfish? FUCK YES!!! HE'S THE ANTAGONIST!!!! I AM NOT RESOLVING THAT MAN OF BLAME!!!! DONT GET MY WORDS TWISTED!!! HE'S STILL BAD! just not unredeemable... because once you say he brainwashed someone and forcefully removed Callie's memories like a pure evil monster, then you have a character who is pretty much unredeemable at that point. You have made him cross a line that he can't turn back from. You implanted these disgusting and disturbingly sexual suggestions about Octavio and Callie and her outfit. Why the FUCK do you want that? Why?! Why do you wanna even suggest the idea that Callie was forced to wear skimpy clothing against her consent and knowledge? Do you know how fucking DISGUSTING AND EVIL THAT IS?!?!?! FOR A SERIES SUCH AS SPLATOON?!?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ON WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO FUCKING IMPLY HERE?!?!?!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?!?! GOD!!!! WHY DO YOU WANT THESE AWFUL THINGS DONE TO CALLIE AGAINST HER KNOWLEDGE AND CONSENT IN THE MAIN TIMELINE!!??!?!?!?!! For AUs I get it, it's your right as a fan to make fanfiction and explore darker topics. I personally won't read it but I won't EVER stop someone from making a darker AU. It has its place in the community and I 100% respect it with all of my heart. I truly respect those who make dark AUs and darker takes on Splatoon because I'm sure it's fun and interesting for some people. To each their own! I actually like hearing my friends talk about Fuzzy AUs and stuff like that, given the time and place, darker toned AUs are something that i find really interesting but I'm not super duper in love with them.

But don't you DARE put these disgusting and sexual undertones about Callie and the Octarians in the main canon. Fuck off. Don't you even try and suggest that the Octarians are this purely evil race that forced Callie into a revealing outfit while she was completely unaware and it was against her consent. And that they just grabbed her... god... Jesus Christ man. Fuck. I hate thinking about that so much dude.

This type of scenario that people push did NOT happen.

THIS DID!

I'm so angry. I'm so sorry for this giant humongous rant. I care a lot about Callie. I only want the best for her. I only want a more engaging and more in-depth take on Splatoon 2. I want to enjoy Tidal Rush, I want to enjoy Spicy Calamari Inkantation, I want to enjoy Fresh Start, I want to enjoy the Bomb Rush Blush remix like how i enjoy Unconscience by Marina Agitando. I want to enjoy Hypno Callie in general, BUT SOMETIMES I JUST CANT AND I GET SO SAD AND MY CHEST HURTS!!!! This has been going on FOR SOOO LONGGG!!

I keep making all these posts about Callie because I still see that kind of bullshit being thrown around. Imagine having a perspective on a character you really love and you try and hold on to it. But everyone else around is pushing that perspective down and you feel so sad and stupid and ridiculous... And so your only option left is to scream and bark and yell....

I am literally gonna keep ranting until I can see the word "brainwashed" in media without having a fucking heart attack. I wanna just be able to enjoy Callie's arc and see it for what it truly is...

A story about two cousins drifting apart... Callie becoming so popular and famous... and lonely... that she became so mentally distraught and overthought everything. She did something incredibly irrational. She went to Octavio and the Octarians. Octavio knows that Callie can be a huge help to him after his loss and so he enlisted her help. And she just said, "okay, fine."

She was given hypnotic shades by Octavio in order to keep her more under control as she was ridden with mental illness and could leave Octo Canyon at any point with her overthinking. But he did NOT put her under total control and brainwash her, he needed Callie's influence for the Octarians, to decorate bases and add her touch into their music. The Octarians became happy and more motivated then ever. He didn't need a drone to help him. He needed, CALLIE.

However... Callie, in the canyon, lost herself, she gave into bitterness, hatred, sadness, anger... She knows who she is, but her memory is so cloudy and muffled by emotion and the shades... She needs help... Proper. Help. You can hear it in the songs found within the Octo Canyon, her reversed vocals sound so sad and deeply emotional...

When Marie arrives, Callie is mad at her, she wants nothing to do with her. But when Marie shoots the shades off of her, Callie is still dazed, upset, emotional, sick, she dances and continues to sing back against Marie's desperate words and pleas... Marie only wants to repair their broken relationship and lend out a hand to her cousin who needs to see the light....

But, when that heavenly melody echoed in that stadium, it was like a rushing tide of memories and feelings flooded into Callie. All of her and Marie's time performing, hosting news, celebrating Splatfests, and arriving to Inkopolis for the first time, came back to her and dispelled the darkness in her heart.

Callie heard the melody and went "wait... This isn't me! What am i doing!? YEAH! I REMEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And well... The rest is history, the pair healed their relationship over the course of a few years and are stronger than ever.

They fulfilled their fresh start, they helped redeem an angry vengeful man from the past, they inspired the present with Off the Hook, and they planted the seeds for the future in Deep Cut.

and they won the Grand Festival... TOGETHER!

Well... At least that's MY interpretation on things ;). And i want my interpretation to be held strong in my head... I'm tired of getting chest pains man... I'm tired of feeling this sadness and pain... I'm tired of going on Inkipedia and seeing that FUCKING word. I'm tired of being scared to watch YouTube videos focusing on lore and the story of Splatoon because deep down i KNOW they will say that word that has such fucking horrible connotations and meaning behind it...

Anyways. I think I'm done. I think I'm just in a huge ranting mode and I had to get it out, my autism was really acting up and i wanted to vomit this stuff out of me. I hope you guys feel what I'm feeling and if you have a character who you feel similar towards, let me know! Let the anger out. Okay?

Have a Callie for sticking around and actually reading. You're amazing.

[tsbs-shipfessions]

Deciding to try this out cuz I can't comfortably rant about it anywhere else other than private DMs, and it's really eating away at me (I'm trying to move past it but my brain hates me and keeps running it through my head). Solar and Nebula. I just straight up don't like it and doesn't feel in character for Solar to me. It's also just extremely weird to have a character who's been shown to be single and very family oriented. I get that it's good for Solar to have someone he can confide in OUTSIDE the family, and that it's supposed to be a super chill and subtle thing. But I just hate it every time it's brought up. It just feels like almost every character has been shipped with someone else, either in canon or fanon.

Fanon I'm more okay with cuz I can just ignore it and continue to enjoy the shows. But if it's canon, I can't fucking do that. I've tried to look at the good parts, but it still pisses me off and makes me uncomfortable.

Next one is Eclipse and Roxy. The guy has SPECIFICALLY & VERY CLEARLY stated that he HATES romance. Oh, Eclipse asked Earth twice what she thinks of her. Why does it always have to be god damn romance! Am I being hypocritical? Probably idfk, I'm very on and off with romance and ships and whatever. I see it as Eclipse asking his first ever friend, who he can really be himself around and not hold back, if she approves of his newest friend. Whom of which has a very similar personality as him and can put him in his place when needed etc. I loved how she was able to comfort Eclipse in the recent episode. She is the first and only person ever to see him full on cry.

Just like how I feel that Solar doesn't need fucking romance to have meaningful bonds, Eclipse doesn't either. They both have had so much shit happen to them, and I personally think it's inappropriate to start dating someone in such a situation. Solar just realized how much he actually cares about Jack and is accepting becoming a father. Same with Eclipse. They don't need a partner to get the help and comfort they need when a familial/platonic relationship works perfectly fine.

Sorry if I sound too harsh or pissy, I know it's all fictional and shouldn't really matter, but I can't help how it makes me feel at times. Fuck *exasperated sigh* Thanks for listening to my rant. I just wanted to feel comfortable someplace to truly express my thoughts and feelings without getting fucking called out and humiliated.

Despite the purpose and over all existence of this blog, my mod is actually aroace, so they actually understand your feelings rather well, Anon.

((yeah lol i do to a T. i don't really watch the shows anymore- just run this blog and exist in the fandom-space. do i personally care about solxneb or roxyxclipse? nope, but i answer the confessions regardless because it be mein Job. i still don't like letting in ship-negativity asks through, but eh. i'll make an exception. ooga booga))

[seaadc]

hello!!! if you’re up for this, can i request any genshin men with a reader who feels like a horrible person because of things they’ve done in the past? i have a guilt complex lmaoooooo (i say lmao but it’s agony) (PEOPLE IN THE CROWD WITH A GUILT COMPLEX PUT YOUR HANDS UPPPP)

also this is a complete side note but i think this concept would be especially interesting with wrio since he’s always in the fortress or meropide, seeing people who have done wrong everyday in the fairly normal system (by jail standards) they have down there

guilt | wriothesley x reader

OH GOD THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A WHILE NOW IM SO SORRY MY NOTIFS ARE ALWAYS FILLED UP AND I DONT SEE ASKS ANYMOREEE T-T

angst w fluff at the end, soft!wrio, he’s comforting youu, gets a bit suggestive at the end, no pronouns used but reader is referred to as ‘my love’ and ‘princess’

it’s nothing to be concerned about really, if you were a criminal and probably rotting in the fortress of meropide for— archons knows how long, you would’ve just let your conscience be the death of you.

but you aren’t! your not sitting around and laying in the fortress of doom meropide, thank the archons.

though you can’t help but think if the seven are laughing at you, quite literally. your state isn’t so stable as it seems..

wriothesley, your partner, had called sigewinne ages ago to check on your health status. although it was all negative, the tests, the results, the examinations, all negative.

there wasn’t anything wrong with you, so why is there an aching pain in your stomach whenever your brain just relapses back to the past, the time where you had done such unforgiving sins, you couldn’t even do a whole statement word for word on what you had done to those poor victims.

one of them, someone special to you. someone special that you had lost because of your own carelessness, someone you had lost because you were being selfish, someone who you wished to cherish for a lifetime— though fate is mocking you unfortunately.

and the pain, the inkling pain deep inside that you cant ignore, it’s annoying. it’s frustrating. it’s … sad.

it’s a pity to see someone like you, a nice person who only wished to improve themselves and hope for a better future. yet it seems celestia didn’t approve.

your longtime partner, wriothesley, had been worried for you. ever since you met, you were always dozing off, not focusing, you looked uncomfortable yet he couldn’t pinpoint what was actually wrong.

it was starting to piss him off, really. the way you doze off when he talks to you, when you two spend time together and your too busy in your own little world to pay attention to him.

wriothesley had decided to sit you down, like what any partner would do when they encounter a misunderstanding or a mishap. communication is key after all.

he couldn’t ever forget the look on your face, the day where you looked at him with such pitiful eyes and regretful ones while he just stared back at you with a stern look.

he feels pity, wriothesley feels pity. someone like him shouldn’t, so what is this he feels?

“tell me what’s been bugging you for months, [name].” wriothesley takes a deep breath, then exhales as you sat there, fidgeting with your fingers. “i didnt get the chance to ask you back then, since it was your privacy after all, hm?” he spoke firmly, his voice laced with curiosity and the tone where he just wants to know the truth.

just tell him, it wouldn’t be so hard. he’s your partner after all, you have every right to tell him so. “[name], i’m doing this to help you. you’re someone extremely precious to me and i can’t help myself just seeing you look so lost.” wriothesley explains, sighing deeply as he waits for your response.

how would he react? he’s the all mighty scary wriothesley after all. he’s known to have less mercy and sympathy on others. why tell? you’ll just embarrass yourself, you thought to yourself.

but you couldn’t. you couldn’t keep a secret, especially towards him. if he was any other people, a stranger, you would’ve kept it till the end of your life. but he’s not just a stranger.

he’s your partner, your loved one, your everything. wriothesley is someone you can trust, someone you care for. is it really worth keeping a secret from him?

you took a deep breath, letting the air get past your nostrils. “i have.. committed alot of unforgettable things in the past, someone like you wouldn’t like. someone like you wouldn’t appreciate.” you confessed, looking down and avoiding your beloved’s longing stare.

wriothesley looks at you, tilting his head in confusion. you? doing things that he couldn’t possibly imagine? “ever since i’ve started to open up a new path to walk on, the guilt in my chest still pains me. it’s almost eating me whole.” you continue.

he smiles at you, not a happy smile, a faint sad smile. he’s quite joyful about how you were guilty, and not like any other person who wouldnt even feel the slightest bit of empathy to what they’ve done wrong in the past.

this is the [name] he fell inlove with. the honest, confident, firm, one. there was no denying that wriothesley was hopelessly inlove with you. and he finds it lovingly amusing.

“if you regret it, then it’s okay. you don’t have to be in debt of a thing you regret on doing. if you truly feel guilt, then it just means your improving and want to be a better person my love.” he smiles, standing up and walking over to your seat, crouching before you as you were forced to look at him.

wriothesley holds your chin, going up to caress your cheeks coated with a red flush. “it may be your fault or not, but there will always be a way to fight back the sins of the past. you can get through it, i know you can.”

“your the strong and confident lady i love after all, hm?” he says with a grin, which makes your already flustered enough face go even more red.

you smile tenderly as he continues to caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch as you hear him chuckle lowly. wriothesley stands up straight, his hand now on your head as he ruffles your soft and silky hair.

wriothesley smirks, a teasing one. which means he’s probably going to say something just to tease you and to lighten up the mood a bit. “besides, i’m the only one who’s allowed to eat you whole, princess.”

made by @seaadc and @seaadc only !!

laughinf bc i made this at exactly 1am LMFAOO (i’m mentally unstable)

[neon-kazoo]

A Misunderstanding

[Context: A vigilante and a villain have an arranged, cooperative deal between them. That is, until something goes wrong, much to the vigilante’s confusion. This story takes place from the POV of the vigilante, beginning in the middle of an unrelated mission/project that the villain is unaffiliated with.]

(Warnings: threats, kidnapping, gun mention, knife violence, blood, fairly descriptive cut/stab wounds, interrogation/torture, helplessness, self-harm kinda, more language than usual, sexual harassment mentioned with implied past experiences)

Note: Technically these are ocs of mine, so if you catch any unexplained details that’s where they’re from. This whole snippet was intended to develop their dynamic, but at this point it’s really just whump lol. I just realized I had over 4000 words written that would otherwise never see the light of day so I made some tweaks to post it. If I missed any name replacements you saw nothing; there was a lot of words ok?

This is extremely long and heavier than most of my snippets, so be careful!

———

“Vigilante, grab some tubes from that room down the hall. I think it’s the third door on the right.”

I left the room to grab the materials for the project. Walking down the hall I lazily counted: one…two..

I reached the third room, and I could see the PVC from the doorway. Eyes locked on the stack at the back of the room, trying to figure out how I was going to carry so many large pieces, I missed the uninvited guest lurking beside the open door, allowing him an opportunity to catch me off guard and shove me into a wall. I opened my mouth to yell for the team but my eyes processed faster than my mouth and stopped me in my tracks.

What was Villain doing here?

I must’ve looked shocked- because I was. A personal appearance from this man could mean nothing good.

I racked my brain for any reason he might have to come find me. I came up empty. I certainly didn’t remember doing anything to him worth wall-slamming me over.

The slight ease I had at identifying the familiar face disappeared when I looked closer at his expression. There was a subtle anger painted on his usually-carefully-blank features.

“I’d suggest coming quietly,” he stated in his signature effortlessly-menacing tone. He spoke easily, like he executed an impromptu abduction every Tuesday morning.

“Come where?” I questioned, immediately suspicious. What was this?

“Somewhere to answer some questions,” he replied. His words were vague. Empty. His tone suggested I wasn’t going to get anything more out of him, but I felt the urge to press.

(Why not here, why now, what was so important?)

I knew better than to argue, but I hadn’t quite grasped the gravity of my situation yet. I shifted, ready to plead that I was in the middle of something rather important, when a knife appeared at my throat, pulling me right back down to Earth.

“Or we can skip the questions.”

Questions it was.

I walked obediently when prompted and he held solidly to my arm. We exited the building via fire escape (how did he know I was here?) We reached the doors of a black SUV parked conveniently in an alley a block over from my operation. As slowly as I could manage, I worked my fingers up into my sleeve. PSAs about the odds of surviving being taken to a second location flashed in my head but were interrupted by the introduction of a gun at my side.

“Press it, and you’re dead.”

Well, fuck.

On second thought, I actually adored second locations. I dutifully climbed into the back and used my remaining energy trying to stay calm as my hands were secured to the seat and a bag placed over my head. My bracelet was, of course, removed.

I love car rides. I tried to imagine this was just another trip, it was just….dark out. At 9 in the morning. Yeah, and I had no idea where we were going. I would be trying to think of how I was gonna play this—whatever this was—but I genuinely didn’t think I had ever risked pissing Villain off. As a result, I was painfully unprepared for whatever was about to happen. I wanted to say how unnecessary this all was, that I would come willingly if asked, but something stopped me.

Fear. Something was wrong.

It was probably just a misunderstanding.

Probably.

I lost track of time and turns, instead just counting my breaths. In for four, hold for four, out for four, repeat. I successfully held my panic at bay and was able to stand on my own two feet when I was finally pulled out of the car and led to who-knows-where. I blindly shuffled all the way through somewhere to a chair in front of a table to which my ankles were secured. My hands were left free and the blinding sack was removed.

The ceiling was covered in fluorescent lights that my eyes struggled to adjust to. I dropped my gaze to the floor, which was clean white tile with a silver disk in the center. Villain stood by the door, and apparently the ride had given him enough time to re-craft his careful features back into a perfectly smooth slate. The air in the room was uncomfortably cold, enough to raise goosebumps on my arms if it weren’t for my jacket.

A proper interrogation, but for what.

“Empty your pockets onto the table.”

He was all nonchalance now, and it was extremely off-putting. He studied me closely, and I barely refrained from squirming under his gaze. In the spirit of cooperation(survival), I obeyed the order, laying out a substantial array of multi tools, first aid, gadgets, and more onto the table top. When I finished, Villain strolled over to the table, studying the items before swiping them into a bag which he settled by the door. All but a switchblade, which he left sitting closest to his side, out of my reach.

He rounded the table to my seat, gesturing for me to slide off my jacket—which he threw by the door, much to my chagrin—and kneeling to pat the rest of me down. He found nothing.

He was silent as he returned to sit in the chair opposite me across the table.

Logic told me to copy his stare and his silence, but my anger and confusion made me reckless. The urge to speak overrode my rational mind.

“Dude, what the fuck.”

Hopefully, that statement would confirm my innocence, as it was definitely designed to do. I was not at all pissed about the deliberate jacket move, or being dragged out of an important mission against my will. Humanizing myself. That’s good, right?

“What? Are you surprised your actions have consequences? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” His voice dripped with condescension.

He placed his hand over the switchblade and I came to the sickening realization that there was a drain in the floor.

“I thought you were smarter than this, I really did.”

“What the fuck,” I repeated slowly, “are you talking about?”

He stood, and the knife was open. I ignored the blade and kept my eyes locked on his.

“I cannot defend myself if I don’t even know what you think I did.”

“You do not play dumb with me. I do not give second chances.” His voice entered a register that I had never had the misfortune of hearing before.

This was not the man I knew. This man was somehow more dangerous, and he wasn’t making sense. He wasn’t listening.

“I wonder if you keep your knives sharp,” he spoke aloud with mock curiosity, twisting and turning the tip of the blade against his fingertip. He advanced around the table and I could do nothing to stop him. This stubborn, arrogant man was about to hurt me over nothing.

I had my hands, but they could not reason with him. They could only hold tightly over his wrist as he held the knife close to my skin. Rapid acceptance flushed through my brain as reality finally registered like a heavy weight descending upon my shoulders.

If he could be stubborn, so could I.

“Fuck you, Villain.”

The tip of the blade pierced the skin of my arm and I held my mouth firmly taut. He was cutting right above where the foundation and concealer covered the tattoo on my upper arm. The leaking blood was going to ruin my careful color correcting.

Blessedly, he skipped over the rest of the upper arm and focused his efforts on my lower arm instead, which he now held in an iron grip. I hated the feeling of being grabbed but I wouldn’t show it. He did not need any more power over me.

“You’ll take a lot for that man,” he noted incorrectly as he traced down my skin with the metal.

I was at a loss.

“For who?” The pain made my words fierce. I was angry and there wasn’t anything I could do about it except let it leech into my mouth.

“I am not an idiot, [real name].” He leaned in, and fuck him.

I seethed, “Apparently, you are, since you’re spending your time cutting up someone who doesn’t know shit about what you’re on about.”

The knife plunged deep into my forearm, and I gritted my teeth hard.

“Is he worth it?” Villain taunted.

“WHO?” I demanded, still trying to guess, to figure it out before I got diced like a vegetable but the pain made my brain foggy and I just couldn’t concentrate. The knife twisted slightly, and with it brought heat and a sickening pulling sensation.

This was not what I signed up for.

The blade came up to my face, mixing blood with sweat and the salt of involuntary tears as it slid across my cheekbone.

“To think, all this time, you were just [Politician]’s bitch,” he whispered.

Affronted was an understatement, but my offense was overridden by confusion.

“Who the fuck is-“ I stopped as the gears in my brain finally started to turn, greased by the crimson dripping across my skin.

“Are you talking about that asshole counselman?”

The gears were rusty but- what was his name? CM [Olitic]? [Politi]? [Politici- Politician]! CM [Politician]. The man I blackmailed into tipping me off about low-profile cases because he couldn’t keep his hands off interns? I was getting scored like sourdough dough with my own knife for HIM?!

Villain didn’t react, just continued to drag the knife down my neck and lined it up at my collarbones. He had to cut and pull my tank top down slightly for better access.

“You’re his spy. What have you told him?” He hummed, and I took a second to gather myself despite the biting pain.

“His WHAT. Where the fuck did you get that from because let me tell you I would not kill an ant for that man let alone spy for him-”

The knife slashed over my other collarbone, and I raged.

“ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF A CIVIL CONVERSATION? LISTEN, YOU ARE WRONG. Wrong. Use your fucking words.” I wanted to spell it out. One more cut and I would be sent over the edge. “You absolute. Mother. Fucker.”

“Just a loyal. Little. Dog.”

He punctuated his dig at my supposed obedience with a hand wrapped around my throat. Possessive.

Oh, so he was trying to make me angry. I really should have seen the angle earlier because damn him it was working.

I couldn’t keep giving him the satisfaction. I took one deep breath and then another, ignoring the sting it brought up across my chest, and the restriction around my neck.

“Ask me a question, and I’ll answer it.” I looked him dead in the eyes when I continued, “or kill me and go fuck yourself.”

“What is your deal with him?”

A silent sigh of relief. Finally, something productive.

“He tips me off for counsel cases,” I explained-rather graciously might I add, given the circumstances. “He didn’t ask me to do shit for him, nor would I. I am not his personal spy. I keep the association off his back, and that is it.”

I reserved a few more choice words about his questioning techniques and waited while he absorbed my response. I sounded far more civil than I felt.

“And why would he do that for you?”

I thanked every god I knew that he seemed to finally be playing ball. Words I could work with, knives I could not.

“Blackmail,” I answered simply.

“Explain.” He raised an eyebrow, and also my knife.

“The association opened a case on him for sexual harassment. I have evidence that would prove rather unsavory for him, I hold on to it in exchange for his information. Basically, he tells me shit and I don’t bury him.” I looked to Villain expectantly. I had nothing else to say on the matter.

He tilted his head. He wanted more, or worse, he knew I had more.

My lips stayed shut.

He had a dangerous glint in his eyes when he spoke, “You don’t withhold from me.”

“Since when. That was not part of our deal.” Anger, deeper and older, burned cold inside me.

“It is now.” It was not that simple.

“I gave you enough,” I told him. I intended my words to be final. He had no right to ask anything of me anymore.

“You don’t get to decide.” Like Hell I didn’t.

“It is none of your business,” I spit back.

“I’m making it my business.” He just kept going. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that self-assuredness right out of every cell in his body.

“Cut me again and I swear you’ll never hear another word out of my mouth,” I blustered. With every fresh drop of blood, he was taking a middle finger to our entire arrangement, everything I had built.

“I highly doubt that.” He flipped the knife around in his hands. He ran his eyes along each of my new, bloody, decorative lines. Fine, maybe I was all talk. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.

“Put the knife away.” I smiled sweetly, but I was getting angry again, and I was losing the will to stop it. My self control spilled out of me in the streams of crimson blood that ran down my face and chest and arms to where it would ultimately flush down the drain and leave me defenseless. Still, that was exactly what he wanted. I couldn’t let him win.

“Or are you too scared of an equal conversation?” I challenged. Two could play at the angering game.

Unfortunately for me, Villain was focused elsewhere and didn’t take the bait. He had found a thread and he intended to pull it.

“Tell me the proof.” Impressively, he just didn’t know when to stop.

“No.” Welcome, Villain, to the hill I was willing to die on. “You cut me up for being a spy, which I’m not. I didn’t break our deal, but you just did. I owe you nothing. I will give you nothing.”

I wanted to tell him that he would never see another cooperative action out of me for as long as I lived, that he should watch his back, that he should expect to see me again soon, but I still needed to live through this and threats were definitely not in my best interests. I wouldn’t betray myself like that.

My skin burned and my arm throbbed. My heart beat aggressively against my rib cage but my adrenaline was crashing. I hurt and I was tired and I just wanted this to be over.

All that trust, and all for nothing.

Villain did not get the hint that I was done. For real this time.

When he brought the knife back, I grabbed it. I pulled it towards me to catch him off guard, sinking it inches into the flesh of my hip before ripping it from his hand and flipping the blade back towards him. He must not have thought I would do it, because he stayed close enough for me to be able to sink the blade into his stomach before he wrestled my arms under control.

A second later, I couldn’t move and I knew it was over.

“I hope it fucking hurts,” I spit coldly, blinking away my burning tears.

A flash of something–maybe surprise?– passed briefly over his face. I hoped it was fear. I needed the win. Before this all got worse.

My wrists got strapped to the chair and Villain was out the door quickly, knife still sheathed in his abdomen. I rolled my head towards the ceiling, eyes unfocused and blinking out tears. I felt satisfaction, then something darker tried to push its way to the surface.

I paid it no mind, just breathed and let it pass. That wound would not be fatal.

Exhaustion soon sent me into a state that was a pitiful excuse for rest. My head rolled forward and the burning faded into the background. I floated for an indeterminate amount of time.

The door opened, closed. A prick. I didn’t care.

I dreamt in flashes of hands and grabbing and helplessness. Fingers, digging into my arm, pressure, where there shouldn’t be-

When I awoke, I was on a cot covered in a thin layer of sweat. I was confused by the freedom of movement and the light smell of laundry detergent. I must’ve slept like a rock, because my cuts were cleaned and my forearm bandaged. I was also bundled in my freshly-clean jacket.

What on Earth-

Was this a motel?

No sooner than thirty seconds after I sat up did the door open and none other than the devil himself appear.

“I figured we’d try again,” the ghost of a grimace passed over his face as his eyes landed on me. “…differently.”

I blinked.

Unconsciousness had returned a bit of my clarity, and if I looked closely, Villain appeared…sheepish. A slight hunch, face pained like he was trying hard not to avert his eyes. Was he…remorseful?

I almost laughed at the thought, but managed to maintain a plain face.

“Uh huh,” I sounded cautiously, shaking off the last of my sleep-induced disorientation. What exactly did that mean: differently?

I gathered something had changed, but I did not voice this, knowing the man in the doorway would never bother to explain himself to me.

Instead, I added humorously, “be a shame if I didn’t believe you.”

I rubbed my eyes and smiled ruefully and he actually looked away. Villain, the original Big Scary Man, was unable to make eye contact with me. Instead, he pointed out a bathroom and said he’d be back in five minutes. The win was too good to be true.

It wasn’t until I made to slide down my waistband that I remembered the self-inflicted wound on my hip. It had also been tended to, a medium size gauze pad taped over the opening.

Now that I was once again aware of its existence, I noticed certain movements did send a shooting pain along the skin and into the fat that had been cut. I wondered how I didn’t notice it earlier. I suspected I would find stitches if I removed the patch.

Carefully pulling the elastic back over the medical tape, I stood in front of the sink, cupping my hands under the faucet and drinking until it no longer burned to swallow. Water drenched the front of my tank, but I didn’t care.

I checked my bandages and studied the open cuts in the mirror. A few had the skin held together with butterfly closures, the rest slathered in Vaseline or Neosporin. I ran my fingers gingerly along the cut on my cheek and wondered if it would scar. Keeping still had worked in my favor though, it didn’t seem too deep.

My left arm took the brunt of the damage. The rose on my upper arm was uncovered and wiped clean, and I thanked several deities it was untouched. I opened and closed my fist to make sure the hole in my forearm didn’t take out anything too important. I was no doctor, but I determined it was probably fine. Villain knew what he was doing, after all.

I studied my reflection one last time, shrugging my jacket back over my arm carefully. I took in my face, discarding the uncertainty and anger and leaving my features assured and closed. The Villain special. I walked out the door.

Villain was waiting.

He didn’t touch me, instead we walked side by side back into the room I had woken up in, which now had an apple sitting on a table to the right when we walked in. Ignoring all of it, I went straight to sit on the bed. I didn’t know what to make of his complete 180, so I drew one knee up to my chest and waited. I let a little hope trickle into my thoughts.

Maybe it just took a good stabbing to force some common sense into Villain.

He paid my refusal to sit at the table no mind and just casually tossed the apple to me after taking his own seat. The hunger I felt must have been built over many, many hours because I did not hesitate to take a bite. And another. And another. The juice dripped down my chin and I didn’t bother to catch it.

Villain respectfully waited until my more ravenous bites had passed before he spoke.

“I propose a trade.”

I just about spit out my apple. Pushing past my knee-jerk response of dignifiedly telling him to “eat shit,” I studied the man to try and determine if he was being serious. His gaze was unwavering. He seemed to be waiting for me to respond, but I wasn’t exactly in a talking mood. I felt clearer but also…off.

“Information for information,” he continued.

Wow this was a really good apple. I turned it over and studied it in my hand. A gala, maybe?

He clarified, “I want your evidence on the counselman.”

Yeah, no shit. So he does know how to use his words after all.

My apple was reduced to just a core. I supposed I had to speak sometime, lest the knife make a reappearance.

“Do you slice, dice, and drug every person you want to make a deal with, or am I just special?” I cocked my head but cast my gaze past the table towards the door.

In my peripheral, I caught his face still impassive.

“I acted on bad intel.”

Villain? Explaining himself? And I thought anger-inducing Villain was scary. Remorseful Villain was straight up terrifying. I was probably reading too far into it, just telling myself what I needed to hear, but—if I squinted—I could imagine it was an apology.

But on further evaluation, I accepted that it was all an act. Every moment I’ve spent with him carefully crafted. This was just another angle.

But what could I do about it?

Knowing didn’t make it better. The cuts were real, my fear was real, my pain was real.

In the end, I still put myself into this world, and I wasn’t going to stop.

“And what do I get out of this?” I questioned. My life? To leave? Some negotiation that would be.

“What do you want?”

Putting the ball in my court is new. Concerning. Is this a trick? How badly does he want to bury this guy?

A terrible, horrible idea hit me. I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

I couldn’t resist.

“Apologize.”

I stood up, walking over to the table and taking a seat, looking him dead in the eyes, and waited.

It was his turn to blink.

For what I presumed to be the first time in his life, the man in front of me had been stunned to silence.

Because of me.

Joy flooded me with the thought.

“I-“ he coughed, and I smiled with a sweetness that would send anyone without a functioning pancreas scrambling for insulin.

“My apologies,” he started, and to his credit, it didn’t sound too forced.

“For?” I pushed, and the look in his eyes suggested I was seriously pushing my luck.

I didn’t care.

“For,” he forced out, “the ‘slicing’ and ‘dicing’. The drugging, I believe, was justified.”

“You stabbed me first,” I shrugged nonchalantly, adding, “You got a pen?”

He held my gaze for a moment, before slowly getting up to retrieve a branded notepad and pen from the nightstand across the room.

He slid them towards me, and I clicked open the pen with a motion that jolted my forearm. I hid my grimace and somehow refrained from dropping the writing utensil onto the carpeting. I wrote down the number with a degree of difficulty. I pushed it towards him, but kept my fingers on it for a second.

“Wait 24, then call it.”

I could tell he wanted to ask for more details, but he wisely considered this ordeal to be over and my civility worn out.

I walked right out the door, and he didn’t stop me.

I thought about trying to get word to the team, but decided against it. I wasn’t integral to the plan. They could go on without me, and most definitely had considering the importance of the mission and the estimated time I had been gone. If they even knew I had been taken—I seemed to remember the building we were using having cameras—the chances that they would interfere in my business were limited.

So I probably had about 12 hours, give or take. Long enough for a natural nap and a rushed processing session with fuzzy pajamas and ice cream. I would have also indulged in a nice warm bath, but unfortunately I was correct about the stitches, making the whole watery adventure ill-advised.

After I had totally-effectively self-cared the whole experience away, I went out on the town.

I was making a round up City avenue when I spotted a shadow trailing behind me.

Round two, baby. Let’s go.

I stopped, and the shadow closed in.

“What kind of game are you trying to pull?” The shadow confronted angrily.

“You didn’t call the number,” I stated plainly.

“I traced it. It comes back to one [full legal name]. Do you think this is funny? We had an arrangement.” I couldn’t say why, but his words just didn’t seem as scary.

“You’re one to talk about the sanctity of arrangements. We did have one. One that you spit on. Or have you already forgotten?” I could tell he wanted to advance on me, but he was hanging back. “Speaking of which, I don’t really know when to take these stitches out.”

“So you think you can just walk away from this?”

It didn’t seem like he really believed that. It didn’t really seem like he knew what to believe.

“‘I am not an idiot’, Villain.” I threw his words back at him. It was the least he deserved. “I don’t work with people who break my trust. I made an exception. Do I need to take it back?”

He’s smarter than this, isn’t he?

He took a single step forward.

“Wow, you are thick lately. I gave you exactly what you asked for but you just can’t open your eyes and see it.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he held the scrap of paper up in a tight fist. “I asked for evidence, and if you’re not gonna give me what I clearly asked for-”

“Put your threats away and use your brain for once. Dust off the cobwebs and whatever the fuck has you so messed up and just think.”

I wasn’t angry, just exasperated. I knew my words were entering dangerous territory, but I felt they had to be said. This was not what I was used to dealing with. A brick wall would be more reasonable.

“If I was trying to trick you, I’d give you the number of the local pizza place. If you can’t get this I can’t help you.”

A pregnant pause.

“You,” he breathed.

Finally. A connect-the-dots champion.

“Me,” I confirmed.

“Witness?”

So close.

“Victim.”

I could almost hear the click. His whole demeanor shifted, his walls building back up, self-assuredness back in place.

“I see.”

He looked me up and down one more time with newly-appraising eyes before abruptly turning around and walking away. He melted back into the darkness, disappearing without so much as another word.

Asshole.

[remus-poopin]

im not sure what you’ve seen but the snape community has been fighting with marauder stans after that one super loud snape stan apparently said something racist about mary?

im not exactly sure what happened but I think that might have started the rest of the drama that i’ve seen

Oh lmao thanks for telling me I was extremely confused

Ok salty rant below be warned lol:

Ok so listen I have been willing and ready to call out the snapedom for racism, specifically for its anti blackness, which they have demonstrated quite a few times, but this is....

I gave a little look at the original poster’s blog (automatically knew who you were talking about lmao) so I could see what you were referring to and oh wow!

So apparently op was listing her marauder era headcanons (she is very vocally against the marauders and their fans so unsurprisingly the hcs were negative), in this list she said that Mary Macdonald was like a servant to Lily in their relationship dynamic, like she was her house elf. Certain marauder fans took issue with this and said that comparing a “black woman” to a slave is problematic (also I find it funny that they used aave while criticizing this apparent racism, I’m so tired). Then it seems like everyone lost their natural minds and just forgot how to act.

So here’s my thing: Op is apart of the snapedom and has very little ties to the marauder fandom (outside of attacking them) and has said that they, along with a lot of people who don’t run in marauders fanon circles, don’t even headcanon Mary as black, in fact she was relevantly unaware of this headcanon. This is not hard for me to believe at all. If marauders stans look outside their bubble for one sec they would realize that literally no one else in the wider hp fandom cares about Mary Macdonald. She is profoundly irrelevant to the plot, is only mentioned twice and has no actual lines. Many do not see her as a black woman. So op making a comment on how she views her relationship with Lily as servile does not carry any racial undertones because this character is not black to her or to her fandom. (I also want to point out that Mary being black is a relatively new thing, and op has stated that her Spanish hp fandom has only portrayed her as white, which also isn’t difficult to believe.)

So to take this statement and attribute racial malice to it is not only illogical but a stunning admission of self-importance.

People do not have to share your headcanons, if a headcanon is popular within your fandom space that doesn’t mean others outside of that space will be aware of it. People also do not have to change the way they construct character dynamics in their head to make it less problematic due to your own personal headcanon.

I think my biggest issue with this is that it’s once again an example of people using fandom as performative activism. Op was already deeply disliked by these people and they used this situation to malign her even further, while patting themselves on the back for “standing up against racism”. I really, really do not appreciate my people’s struggle, especially as it relates to fucking slavery to be used in a little game of moral superiority fandom wars. This is not about racism, using your brain for two seconds would tell you that this comment should not have blown up this way, this was about dunking on a fandom villain and using racism as the justification. And it genuinely pisses me off.

I’m really asking people to just stop for a second and reevaluate why you react the way you do when it comes to fandom issues. Would you really have thought this comment was offensive after using a bit of logic? Or were you not able to use logic in that moment as you just read a whole list of inflammatory headcanons against your faves? Next time could you stop for a moment and take a step back from the screen before you bring up real world issues to criticize the blogger you don’t like? Would you be able to interrogate your intentions if you do end up making these claims? If you interrogate your intentions, and they come up petty, would you be able and willing to recognize if your comment is then tone deaf? Would you do any one of these things instead of what happened here?

Also stop calling people pedos with no proof yall are fucking weird

[mikareo]

⌗ ROMANTICISM ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ there are so many words he wishes he could take back, and he realizes now that he loves you. he loves your colorful laugh, beauty, and passion - all he needs now, is to tell you...and say those three little words. (part two of rationalism - must must read first!!!)

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin’s mom is reader’s art mentor, rin hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, swearing, immense fluff, , kissing, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness, happy ending!!! author's note; this was originally supposed to end with reader getting into a car accident and d-wording the day of her art gallery...but i changed my mind :D

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does. 

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Rin wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers. 

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Sae’s call is distant from the turning gears within Rin’s brain. He’s sure that his brother has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Rin feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk. 

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The dim-eyed boy beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Rin had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Sae continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Rin hates him.

“You’re an asshole.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Rin care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful asshole who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being said ‘unhelpful asshole’.”

Sae scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just fucking talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Rin stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Sae holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his older brother chuckles, causing Rin to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Sae continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Rin takes his brother’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him. 

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Rin’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other. 

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears. 

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth. 

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Rin doesn’t even know. 

It could’ve been when you showed up to his game unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon number ten! I know you can do better than that! Beat their asses, Rin!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Isagi - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of his qualms with his rival from that day. Rin was solely focused on playing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good. 

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things. 

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Rin’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Rin, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard. 

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Rin! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Rin’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Rin feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Sae to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his big brother was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Rin on the back. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!” 

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Sae eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Rin knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along. 

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Rin’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing. 

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Rin knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you. 

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, ______, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Rin can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago. 

Rin has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you. 

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back. 

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Rin hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him. 

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before. 

“Rin?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Rin, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?” 

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Rin Itoshi.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Rin fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you. 

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Rin relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Rin’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right. 

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that, ______.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Rin can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls. 

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Rin almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful. 

Rin brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it. 

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay. 

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it. 

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they're a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own  - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him. 

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel. 

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Rin cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss. 

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

read the final part here. THANK UUUU

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[weebsinstash]

Help, I’ve got massive brain rot about both YanSpiderverse and the YT fics. Like if we go from your post when platonic Yan Miguel makes reader call him Tio/Papa and the one about Miguel angst, Imagine in the moment when he thinks reader is YouTwo and gets rid of them/kicks them out of spider society, he gets angry at them for calling him Tio/Papa again. Only once reader comes back, literally almost dead from glitching through the multiverse, they’re in too much shock/too scared of what Miguel will do to them to call him that again. Cue regretful/pissed off Miguel earning back his Tio privileges by being a bit tooo nice to reader.

NOOOOOOO because he spent all this time forcing his affections on you and eventually legitimately actually winning some sort of trust and affection from you and you're able to trust him as this weird parental/platonic guardian figure who's never supposed to hurt you and you're finally calling him tio/papá and asking for his help and it just makes him SHOUT IN ANGER AT YOU, maybe even slap or punch you because from his perspective you're a dirty fake soiling something that's precious to him

YOU'RE COMING TO HIM FOR HELP IN A MOMENT OF VULNERABILITY AND HE JUST HURTS YOU like really for people like me that's a revisit to the childhood trauma that made him wanna give you a proper father figure in the first place. He tries to heal you after you get abused by your dad and then he hurts you in a moment of need, like, the angst man, just him seeing how he's completely lost your trust, he reaches for you to hold you and you FLINCH becuase you still remember him punching you so hard it almost knocked some of your teeth out

Like imagine Miguel's DISGUST if he's gotten rid of you and he's with YouTwo and he thinks he's won and he's helped you and you're just so happy and YouTwo just. Eventually comes on to him. Like the immediate 180 degree turn in his emotional state from victorious to devastated. Maybe he's trying to hug 'you' in an emotional embrace because he's feeling so stressed and you ground him and here's YouTwo, suddenly smiling up at him so coyly, putting a hand on his chest that starts trailing lower, lower, leaning to try and kiss him, and he's just like NO ABSOLUTELY NOT, WHERE IS MY BABY 😭 the DISGUST, the REPULSION, who is this PERVERT pretending to be his little one?

There are just all these little things he used to enjoy with you that he cant anymore that he misses SO much. He used to love to comb and do things with your hair and when you return from essentially living in the wilderness you just have it cut SO short and he kinda grieves not being able to do anything with your hair anymore (at least until it grows back, and maybe his new routine is washing your hair for you and massaging your scalp with hair regrowth treatments which he maybe concocted himself being a genius geneticist and all). You're extremely quiet now and when you speak to him it's always like you hesitate first, as if you're catering every word to please him to not get harmed. He used to take you on Spiderman missions and nowadays you're so ran down from your experience that you could use a few MONTHS of resting up before you feel like going back out into the fray again (IF your Papá let's you, which, he won't, not without him). He had new clothes for you that you don't fill out the same anymore because you've lost weight and muscle

But on the flip side. Maybe your experience was so traumatizing and unstable that you need someone showering you with love and support and affection now more than ever. You're afraid to sleep alone, you're scared going out in public where there's strangers or lots of people, you're scared of open areas, you're scared of reflective surfaces that show your reflection, like... Miguel NEEDS to make this up to you and if keeping you with him 24/7 and then some is the answer, he's all too happy to hover, and GOD FORBID if someone does something to you during this time where you're unstable and he's trying to fix things. It could be the smallest thing. You're walking through a hallway and someone runs by in a hurry and they accidentally knock you over and suddenly they're having a massive man lunge at them, knocking them over, barking at them how they need to watch what they're fucking doing, demanding they apologize to you and all but make them beg for your forgiveness

Nowadays, if someone enters Miguel's little office or monitor room or whatever the fuck, there's a chance he's still in the dark as always, but, now there's a chance he's in there sitting in a chair, watching his monitors and working as usual while you're wrapped up in a blanket tucked against his chest, his large body protecting you nice and cozy while you sleep because you finally crashed from the anxiety keeping you awake and being held like this helps fight off the nightmares

[liquid-bonhomme]

Lotta people seem to experience some kind of schism brain bleed because I speak both wokescold and memelord.

I've been pretty open about this, I don't know why everyone so surprised all the time.

I'm white trash, raised in a conservative household, in a conservative community, was a lib from the moment I discovered that side of the internet at like, 13, was a chan-child, was on something awful when I was way too young to be, was a micro internet celebrity in a micro internet community, got involved with the anti-sjw community AS I was also going to art school (no one of significance), quietly crashed out of the anti-sjw community, transitioned, got comradpilled.

I'm literally one of the oldest zoomers alive.

I speak fluent soy and fluent shitlord. I know how to boomer whisper, I know how to alpha speak.

I was there when the deep magic was written. I keep up with the latest in brainrot.

I am samefag. I am slay queen.

The chans-to-trans pipeline is real.

I am gender ideology run amuck. I am why you don't send your daughter to college. I literally have blue hair. And we are in your safe spaces, chuds. We see you posting cringe. We meme along side you.

The redscare is just getting started.

No I don't have a kiwi farms account. Yes I do check the site for information. Yes I do use my critical thinking skills to assess the validity of things stated, but it's pretty obvious who's properly documenting shit and who's there to piss and shit.

No I don't think Kiwifarms is inherently evil. Yes I do disagree with how the site is moderated and the validity of the "muh freeze peach" argument as to why it is the way it is.

If you crybullies haven't noticed though, it's not really that far off from the rest of the internet. Just because you'd get flagged for saying "kys" or "trans not realz" SOMETIMES on other sites before doesn't not a unproblematic website make.

Like, I know it will make no difference, me pointing this out, but

@thetepes

@crimsonender

@saiscribbles

@agramuglia

@britts-galaxy-brain

And on occasion even I get bombarded with a flurry of respective bigotries while being called bigots pretty fucking frequently.

This isn't me making the argument that saying slurs is categorically fine in all circumstances (because God forbid morality isn't black and white) but being a bigot in flowery, progressive-coded language is still being a bigot.

Though of course any of you coming here to whiteknight for Lily, of course, already don't give a fuck about that. That's quite literally her whole shtick.

You can't really talk people committed to being bigots out of their bigotry. They have to de-brainworm on their own terms. I can tell you that from experience.

On the flip side to that, grinding people who just don't fucking know better into the ground doesn't really fucking help. Yes-- it's no one's job to do the unreasonable amount of emotional labour necessary to constantly "reach out" to the un or poorly informed. Yes, sometimes offering them up as a sacrificial lamb for public ridicule is worth more of your time.

I have something of a skill for bridge building because of my personal experience, so I often put in the work to do so. I don't expect anyone else to have the spoons for it. I don't judge anyone who doesn't.

Yes, it's extremely frustrating to me, too, when I get called the "reasonable" trans person, the "reasonable" socialist, the "reasonable" queer, the "reasonable" leftie. Don't worry, when I've decided to go for bloodsports instead I've been called a wokescold tankie gender nazi too. They WILL just flip out on you depending on the tone you take, no matter what you're saying. Despite what anyone says, every one is just responding emotionally to tone.

If any of you are this shocked I'm this numb to open transphobia at this point-- I don't know what padded room your from, must be nice-- but it was experience total ego death or die in a k-hole for me, so.

Never bby grill. My love for you is eternal, Tuna. Here, I'll post this here so you have plausible deniability you aren't in a certain discord server. Take this shitty edit as a token of our everlasting love.

I have a few favs from the Lily Farms thread, actually. Ones I'd be willing to talk to directly if they were interested.

I even have one problematic fav.

I won't name you, less you get embarrassed, but I saw that pronoun and name switch. I see you're worried to lose your chud street cred by "she/her"ing or calling her Lily-- but I see you settled on a compromise, unprompted. It brought me a tiny bit of faith in humanity back into my cold dead heart bud-- so thanks for that.

[zonanemona]

OFF SCREEN POST: 毁

No content warnings apply. The last in this little mini-series!

——————————————————————————-

“...I see. That is quite the tale.”

“It’s true, Director Clavell!” Nemona exclaimed, huddled in the man’s office alongside Lochland. “There’s some sort of monster in the cavern! It attacked Lochland and his Pokémon!”

“Bzzt! It erased our memories of the incident! It’ll go after more people if something isn’t done.” Roto added pictures of whatever it could find on the phone’s screen.

The director sighed, rubbing his neck. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about this subject, children…A Pokemon that attacks with illusions of ice brings to mind the idea of a Froslass…” Clavell hums in contemplation. “If that’s the case, we’ll simply send two of our most powerful Gym Leaders out for an inspection.”

Nemona bit her lip. That was somehow both reassuring and a little underwhelming. The entire experience seemed like something a couple of Gym Leaders could handle, if she struggled at a Champion Ranked Trainer. But it’s not like she brought her all-rounder team from that time. And she somehow doubted Kilowattrel or Dundunsparce could handle that..thing.

“...Thank you, Director.” Lochland’s voice rattled them, quiet and soft-spoken, unlike the usual extreme pitch it could reach. He rose silently and slowly from his seat in the man's office and turned to exit.

‘Wha- Lochland!” Nemona called out, only for the door to slam shut behind him. She groaned, fighting the curses she wanted to below more than anything. Lochland seemed to just be trying to avoid the topic all together, despite that no longer being an option for several reasons. In Cascarrafa, on the Flying Taxi home- even on his blog. He seemed like he was trying to sweep the whole damned thing under the bridge. It was infuriating.

“I…presume he’s been like this the whole time.”

Nemona nodded.

“I see. You may need to give him a moment, Miss Nemona. This seems like a lot for him to process.”

“I get that! Believe me- I do! But if that thing goes after anymore Trainers or Pokémon-”

“I understand.” Clavell spoke softly. “Regardless, it will do us no good to intrude. You may want to rest yourself.”

“...Right. Thank you, Director.” She sighed, getting up from her own chair and heading to the exit. A solemn Roto joins her, both of them entering the academy hall.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.” She states, a sad smile on her face that doesn’t even mean meet the eyes. “I’m not upset at you, and you cannot keep apologizing for him.” She heads down the hall, walking down the stairs. “Do you want me to head to your dorm?”

“Nonsense. I should walk you to yours, bzzt. I can more than take care of myself against the Pokemon of the academy.”

“Yeah but-”

“Nemona!”

The girl blinked, turning to her left. She smiled, arms open wide as her rival slammed into them. Suddenly, life felt so much easier.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You’ve said so.” She responds, looking at the shorter girl. “I’m so sorry for scaring you.”

Emmy’s eyes darted for a bit, but went back to the same bashful look as before. “It’s okay.”

Roto silently hovered around them, looking around. “Uh, Miss Emmy. I hate to intrude, but, uhm. Have you seen my trainer? I know you don’t want to talk to him right now, zzt, but-”

“I saw him a bit ago.” Her voice was more monotone than usual, obviously still pissed at him. Nemona found herself unable to blame her, quite exhausted herself. “Lochland got dragged off by Ms. Raifort a bit ago. Something about trying to pick his brain from what happened while you guys were…”

Nemona hummed, deep in contemplation. Ms. Raifort? That was an odd pick, especially considering Lochland didn’t even like her- despite his intense love for history. Did she…know something?

“...Hey. Do you mind if we go visit Ms. Raifort? She..probably knows about what happened more than we ever will.” Nemona asked, tentatively. Already, she could see the discomfort on Emmy’s face at the idea of getting involved in the whole mess. Despite it, she held firm, nodding at the idea.

“I-I’ll come with. Honest.”

Nemona’s heart swelled. She really could rely on Emmy.

The walk was short, as the duo (and Roto) heard whispers from the Staff Room getting increasingly loud, Lochland’s anger becoming more prominent throughout the walls. Nemona carefully rapped on the door. It fell silent for a moment, before Raifort opened the door, grinning at their appearance.

“I’ve been expecting you…three?” She peered at Emmy.

“She..she’s with me.” Nemona answered.

“...I see. Well then- come in, Miss Emmy.”

The three stepped into the staff room, a little eerie with it being so late after hours. Lochland stood in the corner, looking disgruntled and tired. Clearly, he didn’t want to be remotely involved in this conversation. The minute she spotted Emmy, his eyes shrunk in shock, turning to Nemona like had sprung two heads like a Doduo.

Raifort locked the Staff door behind her, pulling up a chair. She sat, grabbing a satchel off the table and pulling out a large, ancient looking book. Brown once shone prominently on it, only for time to wear and age it, like wet mud transformed into firm dirt. Raifort opened it, flipping through with a veteran’s ease until she reached somewhere in the middle.

“Children. May you please tell me what you saw?”

Lochland opened his mouth, seemingly to protest.

Nemona beat him to the punch. “Lochland went missing, under the guise of looking for Dunsparce. When I went to check on him, I found a cave. But it was…different. It was completely dark inside, to the point where not even a Fire-type move could light it up. And soon, ice started to emerge from outside.”

“Nemona!”

“¡This could help Lochland, basta!” She cleared her throat. “Upon exploring further, I found this weird staff. Roto got a picture of it somehow, before they went back?”

“Bzzt! I believe whatever we saw erased our memories of touching it the first time, but upon Nemona’s recuse, erased them completely of us even nearing the place.” Roto’s screen showed a yellow, glowing, stake. Looped around the top was a yellow ball of sorts, an ancient intricate pattern merged into it. Raifort gasped, taking a closer look as she adjusted her glasses.

“I don’t believe my eyes…”

“When I got close, I heard Lochland’s voice. The more I stuck around, I felt more..”

“Angry? A deep sense of hatred filling your cores?” Raifort asked, cutting the girl off. Nemona sputtered for a bit, before nodding. The teacher closed her eyes.

“...Ice and hatred…yes, I know exactly what you encountered.”

This caught all of them off guard, children and Pokémon paying attention. Raifort twisted her book around to show them. It was drawing, the type made by experienced artists and painters of a time long forgotten. A white long beast, icicles engraved into its sides and tail- even being used as its whiskers. Black swords that jutted out of the top of its maw, tips covered in ice. Cold eyes leered at them, and Nemona could feel the chill in her veins, even if just a drawing.

“T-That’s it.’ She mumbled. “That’s what attacked us.”

“Then you, my children, have encountered one of the Treasures of Ruin.”

Silence.

“Wh…what is-?” Lochland spoke, cautiously, almost as if he was afraid to ask.

“They’re old Paldean legends.” Emmy spoke for the first time since entering. “A king had four treasures; a vessel, a sword, tablets and beads. They were infused with some of humanity’s worst traits- something like that.”

“Very good, Ms. Emmy!” Raifort’s eyes lit up, a telltale sign of her hunger for knowledge. “Once invigorated with those traits, they became Pokémon- destroying ancient Paldea in a rampage. In desperation, the king turned to four renown Pokémon battlers, and after a fierce fight, all were sealed away.” Her monologue stunned the room, the kid’s eyes raised in disbelief. “For a long time, they merely existed as only rumors. But two eyewitness testimonies- do you know what this means? They’re real!”

The history teacher laughed. “You’ve both encountered Chien-Pao, Sword of Ruin!”

Nemona couldn’t feel the joy at Ms. Raifort’s glee, only fear sinking into her heart. She looked back, Emmy clearly uncomfortable, Lochland’s expression shifting into something sinister, fist balled. “Uh…hooray?”

“This is incredible! The truth, the truth! Could you imagine if we had the ability to find it again? Capture it? And if we found Chein-Pao, maybe we could find-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Nemona gasped, not expecting the profanity that Lochland had directed towards a teacher of all things. Raifort looked quite struck as well. “I-Lochland, that type of language-”

“You don’t know a damn thing about what you're talking about. Trying to seek out those bloody things- are you out of your mind?!” Lochland’s anger seemed to grow more prevalent as he spoke. “Those things will kill you without mercy. That thing- it’d rip you to bits and bloody pieces. They’re called the Treasures of Ruin for crying out loud- be sensible!”

“Wh- Lochland-”

“Shut up.” He turned to her and-

Nemona felt her entire body sag, the desire to put up a fight against his behavior disappearing in a flash, the desire to do anything disappearing in a flash as she stared into his bright blue eyes, immobile.

Lochland turned back to Raifort, equally as stunned as Nemona. “I…I…”

“You have no idea what you’re messing with. If you’re any degree as smart as you pretend, you’ll bury this.” Lochland finished, storming out of the staff room without so much of a word. Only when the door shut, did Nemona get her fighting spirit and ability to move back.

“I..I..I’m so, so sorry, Ms. Raifort. Thank you for your advice, I’ll make sure to ask you more, I-I have to go.” She ran to the door, opening it and running out.

“Bzzt! Ms. Nemona!”

“Nemo!”

Both Emmy and Roto chased after her, leaving Raifort alone in the staff room to reflect on what just happened. At the sudden appearance of bright blue eyes on her student’s face, when she knew for fact they were lavender.

“It can’t be…Azelf…?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“LOCHLAND!” Nemona shrieked, stomping down the stairs into the main lobby, seeing the man walking through the emptiness. “¡¿CÚAL ES TU PROBLEMA?!”

“What’s my problem?! What the hell is yours!” He turned to face her, marching in her direction to meet her. “Babbling all of that to Ms. Raifort- do you know what kind of danger you could’ve put us in?”

“She’s not dangerous, Lochland, she’s trying to help!”

“They’re always trying to help! People like her are always trying to help, and then they strike you in the back.” He retorted. “Lysandre was nice, til’ he tried to exterminate the entirety of Kalos. Lusamine was nice until she caused the summoning of a million Ultra Beasts. No normal person is obsessed with Legendary Pokémon!”

“Some people are just passionate, Lochland! Just like you and your researchers, or Bidoofs! But you- you caused that big scene, swore at a teacher for Arc’s sake-”

“You had no right to do any of that. It was a terrible idea, Nemona.”

She balked at his audacity. “I-I had no right to-are you forgetting I’m the reason you’re standing here right now, Lochland?!”

“You shouldn’t have come looking for me!” He flung his hands in the air. ‘Do have any idea how dangerous-”

“I fought the thing! Of course I knew how dangerous it was!” She scoffed. “I mean- what did you expect, Lochland? That being chained and trapped and unconscious, you’d be able to come up with some way to escape by yourself with no help?!”

Lochland looked away, face hot as silence reigned over the hall.

Nemona’s eyes widened. “...No se puede ser serio.”

“...You have no idea the mess you’ve dragged yourself into, Nemona. Legendaries are serious business.”

“Oh, and you’re suddenly an expert on Legendary Pokémon!”

“I am, actually!”

“How?” She pressed, jabbing a finger in his chest. “How in the world would you possibly know something like that?”

Lochland sputtered, unable to defend himself. “You…you wouldn’t possibly believe me.”

“You don’t know that though!” She retorted, face strained as she spoke. “You don’t know what I’d believe, or what I wouldn’t because you never tell people anything!”

“Well I'm telling you now- don’t go looking into Chein Pao or whatever. Leave it to me! If you keep dragging people into this, they’re going to get hurt- what the heck are you gonna do if someone like Emmy gets involved next time. And it will happen- because it always happens!”

Something inside Nemona snapped.

“No te atrevas a hablar de ella así. ¿Qué te pasa?” Her voice was a hiss, anger and silent disappointment mixing together.

Lochland said nothing. He sharply turned and started walking away.

“Tell Roto I’m heading up to my dorm room, he knows how to get there on his own.”

Nemona let him walk away, holding onto her shoulders in discomfort.

“...Take my advice, Nemona. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.” And he started to climb up the steps, slowly disappearing from view. Nemona took a sharp breath, running her hands through her hair. She looked up, only to notice Roto and Emmy on the steps. She turned away, unable to meet their gazes.

Emmy carefully walked down, resting a shoulder on her hand, Nemona returning with a squeeze.

“...Wanna have a sleepover at my place? My moms wouldn't mind having you.”

“...Gracias. I’d love that, Em.”

Translations:

¡Basta! = Enough!

No te atrevas a hablar de ella así. = Don’t you dare talk about her like that.

¿Qué te pasa? = What’s wrong with you?

[disneymbti]

Hello! Can I have a matchup for Bridgerton and Harrypotter? Thank youu

FANDOM: Bridgerton and HP

 Name: Anna 

Pronouns: She/her

Preference: any gender (girl or boy is fine with me)

Color: Light purple

Personality: I am an INTJ Slytherclaw. ESI type. Plato Psyche type. Aquarius Sun, Sagittarius Moon and Aries Rising. Neutral Good. I am a huge overthinker and stress a lot with anxiety. People tell me that I can be blunt which results in people thinking that I can be cold but in reality I try to be a kind person when it is needed. I am a realist and many consider me to be intelligent, often asking me to help with their work. I’m incredibly passionate about things I like to do and have a thirst to know everyone’s opinions as I feel that if someone is left out. I’m a creative person but sometimes my brain just goes blank, I hate when it does. I have a really dry sense of humour that usually is a mix of sarcasm, fandom jokes or self degrading jokes. I'm an extremely stubborn person and have to be right about everything. From a young age, my parents were extremely strict and had expected the best out of me which resulted in me being an overachiever. I have to get things perfect or be the best at what I’m doing. I'm really sensitive, even some small harsh words are enough to make me teary. I’ve been called a crybaby because of that and to be honest, that is true. I give too much to other people since I’m afraid of saying no since what if they hate me? And I'm too scared to ask for help or to have something cause I think they will think I'm selfish and worthless. Not the best self esteem 😔 If there is a mistake or even the slightest criticism gets to my head, I lose all motivation. I love to listen to other people since I think not a lot of people have others that they can tell what they wish to say without getting judged or outcasted. But the problem is that I judge too easily too. As much as I want to show a good image to others and help them, I tend to focus on my own needs and how everything can affect me for the better or worse. I hate repeating things, especially in front of a big crowd. I daydream too much. When I get excited, I speak really quickly and stumble over my words which I get embarrassed by and stop talking. I am very sensitive, especially when it comes to my appearance and personality. I’m always afraid that people are constantly judging me or hate me, which is why I tend to avoid public spaces or being around people in general. When I get familiar with someone or a crowd, I’m not that afraid to state my opinion. I get jealous and possessive easily, like I mentioned my parents are strict meaning I got very few things of my own and those things only came to me because I tried so hard to get it. So when I see someone else with it, it just irks me off. I always make plans but I know I’m not going to complete them, I just like to imagine the future if I actually had motivation and energy to accomplish things. I can never start new things while completing old ones. I am also the oldest child and have 4 younger ones, another reason why I stress too much. I don’t think I mentioned this, but I get angry really easily. The slightest mistakes just pisses me off. I suck at short talks and starting conversations, it’s much easier to have lengthier conversations. I can never do presentations, I always get too nervous. Plus, my friends say my voice is really soft so no one ever hears me much, especially since I’m uncomfortable. When I get angry, my judgement is clouded. I am terrible at holding grudges. I would be upset at someone but the second I see them again, I feel normal and happy in a way. Probably said this before, but I’m a huge day dreamer and stubborn. I can’t concentrate on my work because I always get distracted and daydream about things I will never have. I normally appear composed but have a fiery temper. I really want to be a lawyer. My parents never let me use the internet much as a kid so I pretty much live under a rock but I am incredibly book smart. I am literally the personification of Elder Daughter Syndrome and have been parentified since I was a child and because of this, I’m naturally good with kids and responsibilities. 

Looks:I’m slightly chubby and curvy with a pear-shaped body . Upon seeing me, many people point out my eyes which are hazel with slight flecks of many colours such as green and amber being the prominent ones. Almond eyes that are doe-like and slightly turn up at the end but barely noticeable. I have a button nose and thin heart shaped lips. My face is round and my eye shape is almond. I am approximately 5’3. Two small moles are fixated on my right cheek and underneath my lip. Long dark brown hair that almost appears black but that solely depends on the lighting. My hair reaches my hips and is kinda wispy at the end. It’s usually on a ponytail with a few strands framing my face. My clothing style tends to be anything comfortable and classy. I prefer to wear black and colours that are darker, you will never find me wearing orange or neon colours. 

Likes: Chocolate, Anime, Music, Food, Being right about something, Reading, Drawing, Strawberries, Smell of Rain, Binge-watching (period drama mainly!) Sleeping, Being the Best, Baking and cooking (even tho I’m not that good at it)  Daydreaming, Murder Mysteries, Romance, Long walks, Making Ocs,  Fiction, Name hunting, Me, Pinterest, Spicy food, Sweets, Lavender, Aesthetics, and Flower Language and History (especially the Tudor dynasty!)

Dislike: Loud noises, Jerks, Prejudice People, hypocrisy, Slow Walkers, People who chew loudly, Getting look down on, Insects, Studying, Fake People, Self-pity, Getting below 90% in a test, Snow, Overlysweet things, Going outside, and the feeling where your brain is blank and can’t tell what you feel like, Doing nothing all day and Tomatoes

Love Language: Physical Touch and Quality Time

Ideal Type: Pretty big Eyes. I’m actually weak for big baby eyes. I love charismatic people who are funny but know when to be serious. Will always be there for me and not afraid to speak their mind. Yet they would still help me see the light at the end of the tunnel and tell me it’s okay, that everything is gonna be okay. Attentive to my needs. Not necessarily loud but not quite, somewhere in between. I want someone who I can feel okay around, as if everything was fine. Someone who would help carry a burden with me, we are together in everything. I’m really into the cocky characters? Like they are so hot and arrogant at the same time? type of person who would wait for me when I’m tying my shoelaces. WHEN THEY ARE A GENTLEMAN 🛐Any hair colour is ok! Though I’m soft for blond and black hair. I love playing with other people's hair! A little bit clingy. I love the type of characters that I think I can ‘fix’ or like beautifully broken ones that make my heart ache. 

Ideal Date: I don’t have a certain type that I prefer but I will forever love soft domestic picnics with their head in your lap and eating goods of all kinds. Or just doing something fun like going out late at night and going on drive or watching stars and any spectacles. 

Hope this is enough information and Thank you in advance! 

Hi there, Anna! I really hope you like this a lot!

For @sugutoad!

Your Bridgerton match is COLIN BRIDGERTON!!

He is a true gentleman; he is sweet & soft to the core & you two enjoy the long walks together across the park & enjoy each other's company while talking about anything in the evening stars.

You both love eating food so the two of you will be cooking together even though the two of you are not good at cooking; the two of you will have fun eating together & he will always pack some strawberries for you.

He will reassure you when you get anxious & if anyone says a terrible words to you; he will get very overprotective & he will go out in the rain for you so that you can always smell whenever you want.

Your Harry Potter match is Neville Longbottom!!

He would grow strawberries for you in his greenhouse & makes into a jam for you in case the strawberries are empty in your house because he knows that you love strawberries so much & he wants to make you happy.

He will give you the biggest hugs ever because even though he is not a huge hugger, he knows that one of your love languages is physical touch, so he gives you hugs when you have to go somewhere.

The two of you will have a picnic together on the grass, eating chocolate, strawberries & just enjoy each other's company while also smelling lavenders together like a soft & healthy couple the two of you.

[system-of-a-feather]

Okay since I'm putting better faith into the #sysconversation tag than the #syscourse tag, I did want to bring up a thing I thought a lot about over the past like two years of my recovery as we got close to functional multiplicity and moved into this mostly final fusion / flux fusion kind of state we are in now

But one of the large reasons I really ended up becoming more and more pro-endo is largley because I found it EXTREMELY hard to hold to the values of being anti-endo while being so integrated to where parts were not so strictly separated, where switches became nearly entirely managed and controlled / intentional, when trauma became a SIGNIFICANTLY less important thing in my life, and especially when I became so integrated that most of the time I rest in a fused state and occasionally *choose* to operate as multiple parts...

Like, in my experience of healing, being anti-endo and reaching the stage of recovery that I found myself in seemed and felt so dissonant and incongruent that it became something I just really scratched my head at.

And in the end of the day, if I can choose to be one or be many and its something I can do without causing an increase of dissociation (no time loss, full communication and easy transfer of memories and thoughts, still identifying and understanding the whole while primarily identifying as individually operating parts, etc) then why wouldn't someone who doesn't have a dissociative disorder or notable dissociation be able to operate similarly?

And of course whenever I think of it I can hear the people going either

"well ACTUALLY you ARE dissociating" which as a remark honestly kind of pisses me off because that's really not something some random person online can judge and it's crossing a boundary of telling me what I am feeling which is something I very much do not tolerate in my life

"well you had the parts from DID and they don't so thats why" which I mean, okay maybe I guess? but it doesn't really seem to have the most logic to it other than perhaps I can just like... idk revert???

But those internal counterarguments my brain generates when I previously thought about bringing this up aside, I was wondering if anyone else had any thoughts or input to this train of thought that I've been juggling in my head.

(Disclaimer: I am not saying that you can't heal and be anti-endo, I am just saying I struggle to understand how anti-endo values and beliefs can be sustained during late stage recovery without a lot of cognitive dissonance. It's me saying I don't know or don't understand and not a generalizing statement.)

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello! Hello! Can I have a Bungo Stray Dogs, MHA ans Haikyuu matchup?

Here is my information!

Name: Anna Lee

Pronouns: She/her

Preference: Male

Age range: Any

Personality: I am an INTJ Slytherclaw, Aquarius and a Type 6 when it comes to anagrams. Lawfully Neutral. I am a huge overthinker and stress a lot with anxiety. People tell me that I can be blunt which results in people thinking that I can be cold but in reality I try to be a kind person when it is needed. I am a realist and many consider me to be intelligent, often asking me to help with their work. I’m incredibly passionate about things I like to do and have a thirst to know everyone’s opinions as I feel that if someone is left out. I’m a creative person but sometimes my brain just goes blank, I hate when it does. I have a really dry sense of humour that usually is a mix of sarcasm, fandom jokes or self degrading jokes. I'm an extremely stubborn person and have to be right about everything. From a young age, my parents were extremely strict and had expected the best out of me which resulted in me being an overachiever. I have to get things perfect or be the best at what I’m doing. I'm really sensitive, even some small harsh words are enough to make me teary. I’ve been called a crybaby because of that and to be honest, that is true. I give too much to other people since I’m afraid of saying no since what if they hate me? And I'm too scared to ask for help or to have something cause I think they will think I'm selfish and worthless. Not the best self esteem 😔 I love to listen to other people since I think not a lot of people have others that they can tell what they wish to say without getting judged or outcasted. But the problem is that I judge too easily too. As much as I want to show a good image to others and help them, I tend to focus on my own needs and how everything can affect me for the better or worse. I hate repeating things, especially in front of a big crowd. I daydream too much. When I get excited, I speak really quickly and stumble over my words which I get embarrassed by and stop talking. I am very sensitive, especially when it comes to my appearance and personality. I’m always afraid that people are constantly judging me or hate me, which is why I tend to avoid public spaces or being around people in general. When I get familiar with someone or a crowd, I’m not that afraid to state my opinion. I get jealous and possessive easily, like I mentioned my parents are strict meaning I got very few things of my own and those things only came to me because I tried so hard to get it. So when I see someone else with it, it just irks me off. I always make plans but I know I’m not going to complete them, I just like to imagine the future if I actually had motivation and energy to accomplish things. I can never start new things while completing old ones. I am also the oldest child and have 4 younger ones, another reason why I stress too much. I don’t think I mentioned this, but I get angry really easily. The slightest mistakes just pisses me off. I suck at short talks and starting conversations, it’s much easier to have lengthier conversations. I can never do presentations, I always get too nervous. Plus, my friends say my voice is really soft so no one ever hears me much, especially since I’m uncomfortable. When I get angry, my judgement is clouded. I am terrible at holding grudges. I would be upset at someone but the second I see them again, I feel normal and happy in a way. Probably said this before, but I’m a huge day dreamer and stubborn. I can’t concentrate on my work because I always get distracted and daydream about things I will never have. I normally appear composed but have a fiery temper. I really want to be a lawyer. My parents never let me use the internet much as a kid so I pretty much live under a rock but I am incredibly book smart. 

Looks: Half-Korean and Half- White. I’m slightly chubby and curvy with a pear-shaped body (Double D cups). Upon seeing me, many people point out my eyes which are hazel with slight flecks of many colours such as green and amber being the prominent ones. Almond eyes that are doe-like and slightly turn up at the end but barely noticeable. I have a button nose and thin heart shaped lips. My face is round and my eye shape is almond. I am approximately 5’3. Two small moles are fixated on my right cheek and underneath my lip. Long dark brown hair that almost appears black but that solely depends on the lighting. My hair reaches my hips and is kinda wispy at the end. It’s usually on a ponytail with a few strands framing my face. My clothing style tends to be anything comfortable and classy. I prefer to wear black and colours that are darker, you will never find me wearing orange or neon colours. 

Likes: Chocolate, Anime, Music, Food, Being right about something, Reading, Drawing, Strawberries, Smell of Rain, Sleeping, Being the Best, Baking and cooking (even tho I’m not that good at it)  Daydreaming, Murder Mysteries, Romance, Long walks, Making Ocs,  Fiction, Name hunting, Suits, Me, Pinterest, Spicy food, Sweets, Lavender and Indicolite, Aesthetics, and Flower Languages.

Dislike: Loud noises, Jerks, Prejudice People, Slow Walkers, People who chew loudly, Getting look down on, Insects, Studying, Fake People, Self-pity, Getting below 90% in a test, Snow, Overlysweet things, Going outside, and the feeling where your brain is blank and can’t tell what you feel like, Doing nothing all day and Tomatoes

Love Language: Physical Touch and Quality Time

Ideal Type: Pretty Eyes. Will always be there for me and not afraid to speak their mind. Honest and loyal. Someone I can call her best friend, I can be weird around them and they won’t mind at all,Yet they would still help me see the light at the end of the tunnel and tell me it’s okay, that everything is gonna be okay. I wouldn’t like ‘innocent’ people nor ‘kind’ people cause I feel like I won’t be able to connect with them based on my morality level. Will be attentive to my needs. Not necessarily loud but not quite, somewhere in between. I want someone who I can feel okay around, as if everything was fine. Someone who would help carry a burden with me, we are together in everything. A type of person who would wait for me when I’m tying my shoelaces. 

Hi Anna! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchups!

In Bungo Stray Dogs, I match you with...

Someone attentive, helpful, and who speaks their mind no matter what? Yep, that’s Kunikida in a nutshell.

He admires your intelligence, your tendency to overthink and your bluntness. It’s a nice change of pace since he's surrounded by…well, the Armed Detective Agency. No more needs to be said.

Loves reading murder mysteries with you. Sure, Kunikida works solving real life mysteries but it's nice being able to work through a problem without the stakes being real world life or death.

There's no need to worry about having nothing to do with him around. He's always busy either with work or personal things and is more than happy for you to tag along and help out.

Kunikida likes going on long walks with you when he has the time. They might get cut short sometimes due to his busy schedule but he'll always do his best to make time for you.

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Someone honest, not all that kind, but willing to be there for you when you need him? Yeah, that’s Bakugo all right.

Yes! You hold those grudges! Bakugo's right there with you. I definitely see him as the type of person to listen to you talk about someone and immediately start holding a grudge against them as well.

You're both very competitive and this can sometimes lead to conflict. But if you and Bakugo are able to see it as someone pushing you to be the best version of yourself, you'll be okay.

He's probably one of the realest people you will ever meet so there's no need to worry about him ever seeming fake. On the other hand, he also hates fake people so you can join forces to take them down together.

There's no way Bakugo doesn't like spicy food so a lot of dinner dates will definitely revolve around going to places that serve spicy stuff. He does make it into a competition though so be warned.

In Haikyuu, I match you with...

Someone with pretty eyes, super loyal, and who’s not afraid to be a bit weird around you? Kuroo is all about that.

Appreciates your ability to do things by yourself but does worry about you sometimes when you don’t ask for help. Just know that he’s there if you ever need him.

Food buddies! I see Kuroo as someone who enjoys good tasting food. He doesn’t really have a preference between savoury or sweet and he can handle spice, so wherever you want to go, he's happy.

There are a lot of unavoidable loud noises in volleyball so if you're not comfortable going to practise or competition matches, he completely understands. He's not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. That being said, if you do go to his matches, he'll be delighted.

Loves when you talk quickly because you're passionate about something. Since you're often more on the anxious self-doubting side, it's nice to see you let go of your inhibitions for once.

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 7

Jessie woke up the next morning to board her flight to the Bahamas to see Rafe. No matter how much sleep she got it was not enough to shake her racing thoughts.

"You know the plan." JJ said as he hugged Jessie goodbye at the gate.

"Yes, I know the plan." Jessie said coldly. She almost felt bad for being so pissed off at JJ. After all, this was the first time they'd seen each other in so long. But Jessie never wanted to be involved with Rafe ever again, and her brother knew that. She had to put her disgust aside and at least give JJ a decent goodbye. She tried to put it out of her mind that this could be the last time she'd see her baby brother. She knew first hand how volatile Rafe could be, and she knew no amount of time apart could have changed that, in fact, she was betting that the time apart only made it worse.

As she finally got her seat on the plane she couldn't help but let her mind wonder again. Her leg was shaking, her hands were sweating, it felt as if her brain was on fire. She needed something. She needed a smoke. A smoke? She wondered where that thought even came from. She stopped smoking the second she found out she was pregnant and never looked back. She feared that maybe her old habits were returning. As she thought about old habits she couldn't help but think of Rafe again.

***

Jessie followed Sheriff Peterkin back to Rafe's house and watched the whole extremely awkward exchange. She couldn't hear the exact words but she could tell by the look on Ward's face that he was confused and in disbelief. Not his perfect little son? He could never, right?

Well he did. At least so they thought. Jessie couldn't help but wonder why Rafe would take the blame for a girl he barely knew. She couldn't make sense of it, but she knew she had to try and make it right. Her father may have raised her to be less than moral, but she knew deep down some things just weren't right. Letting Rafe take the blame for this without receiving some form of an apology from her was not right. Jessie may have been cold, but she had some sense of a moral compass.

Jessie could see the exchange happening through the windows once Ms. Pete left. Ward at first was sad, but then it looked to just turn to pure rage. And Rafe... just stood there... and took it. Not what Jessie would have done. Jessie was outraged just at the thought of someone being that much of a doormat. She felt like she needed to defend him right then and there. But why did she feel this way? That wasn't like Jessie to defend someone she barely even knew. Maybe Rafe had grown on her? Surely not, it was probably just the guilt talking. That's what she went with in her mind anyway.

The argument— no, the one sided berating from Ward— finally stopped and without a word, Rafe went upstairs to what she assumed would be his room.

Jessie threw rocks at what she was hoping to be Rafe Cameron's window. She knew this was the Cameron house, I mean, who didn't know this was the Cameron house, but as for what room she was looking for, well, that was a total guess. There were far too many windows on all sides of the house to make an informed decision, but oh well. She really didn't care if she got caught.

After just a few more rocks she finally saw the dark gray curtains swing wide open, with some force behind them might she add. There stood Rafe, still fuming from what had just happened a few short minutes ago. The second he saw Jessie standing below his window his face softened. Softened? Jessie expected him to be furious.

All Jessie knew to do was wave sheepishly up at the window. Her small guilty smile was enough to tug at Rafe's heart strings once more and open the sliding glass door.

"What are you doing here?" Rafe whispered hastily as he leaned over the railing, trying to get as close to Jessie as possible so his hushed tone would carry. "You shouldn't be here. My dad's going to kill me! And then he's going to kill you!" Rafe stated as he looked around frantically making sure nobody was watching or at least eavesdropping.

Jessie wanted to say so much but she knew it was best to carry this conversation not between a balcony and back yard.

"Can I come up there?" She whisper-yelled back to him. She still had that same goofy grin on her face that Rafe couldn't say no to despite his hesitation. He knew he was in a heap of trouble already but... this was Jessie he was talking about.

Rafe didn't say anything, he just looked around to check that the coast was clear and summoned her with his hand quickly, giving her permission to climb up their presidential grade trellis housing the most beautiful tropical flowers. Jessie secretly was thankful they weren't roses.

Once she finally made it to the top Rafe grabbed her under her arms and hoisted her over the fence surrounding the balcony. The fact that it was so easy for him to do that really turned Jessie on. But she had to stay focused.

"I could've gotten over the railing myself you know." She sassed, like she wasn't secretly blushing at the sudden contact and blatant display of strength.

"You're welcome." Was all Rafe could say, with just as much sass as he threw up his hands feeling like he could never win with her.

Jessie just laughed. "I came to say I'm sorry." Jessie sighed looking at Rafe with clear regret in her eyes.

"Why should you be sorry?" He mumbled as he rested his arms on the railing of his balcony and looked out onto the water. "It was my choice."

Jessie mimicked his actions. "Yeah... but why'd you do it?" She asked with a serious tone in her voice.

The silence was loud. Rafe could think of so many reasons why he did it, and yet none of them made sense in his head just yet. So he settled with...

"I wanted to keep you free."

Jessie was confused, all she could do was laugh under her breath awkwardly.

"Free?" She questioned. "You know I would've gotten out of it? My dad would've picked me up from jail, slapped me around a few times and that would've been the end-"

"You don't deserve that." He said a little louder this time, but still not loud enough for anyone but Jessie to hear. "I know exactly what would've happened. And you never deserve that." Rafe spoke with so much conviction it really confused Jessie. Why did he suddenly care so much?

"Look, I don't know who you think you are to me, but I don't need your protection." Jessie spat as she leaned in closer to Rafe. Despite the move, Rafe never wavered. He only continued to look out into the night.

"Tonight, I saw a side of you that I liked. A side of someone that I never see on this side of the island. You were having fun... real fun. You live life one decision at a time with no fear of the future or its consequences. I want that." Rafe said calmly, finally looking into Jessie's eyes.

"Don't you get it, Rafe? The whole world is at your fingertips. You are free! You can have anything you want!"

"But not what you have." Rafe said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Jessie understood what he was saying now, to an extent. Money doesn't buy happiness. Hell, even success doesn't buy happiness. Rafe just proved that.

Jessie sighed, "Well look, I don't know what you're looking for, but I don't think I can help you find it."

"No... I think you're the only one that can help me find it, Jess." Rafe replied with a slight smile and nod of his head.

Jessie had no words. For once in her life. No snide remarks, no funny commentary to lighten the mood, just one solution popped in her head.

"Well you can start," she said as she pulled the joint from her pocket just like she did hours ago. "by letting go." She proclaimed as she rolled the joint between her fingers with a smile.

Rafe should've known where this was going. In his mind he hesitated once again, yet he still took it. She lit it for him and he took another drag, still filled with coughs but much better than his first attempt. He handed the blunt back to Jessie.

"So uh," Jessie began as she began to smoke herself, "is there any way I can make this up to you?"

Rafe thought long and hard, he knew he wanted to see her again.

"Yeah," he said, "spend the night with me on this balcony."

Jessie looked at him like he had two heads.

"I'm not a booty call country cl-"

"That's not what I meant." Rafe quickly retorted almost with disgust in his voice that she thought that's where this was going. "You don't have to go inside, just stay with me right here... and talk." Rafe softened up.

Jessie sighed with hesitancy written all over her face as she looked down at the ground below her.

"You owe me." Rafe said as he carefully took the joint out of Jessie's hand and brought it to his lips, not breaking eye contact. That action alone made Jessie's stomach flutter and she knew she couldn't say no.

Hours passed by and Rafe and Jessie only became higher, in their own little world. Rafe completely forgot about the possibility that Ward or Sarah or even Wheezie could come in at any moment.

"Wait, what? No way." Rafe said through laugher.

"Yes, I promise," Jessie laughed back, "Jessica is my real name. I hate it though, so call me that and I'll kill you."

"No worries, you're not a Jessica."

"Thank you!" Jessie threw her hands up in agreement. She never understood why her parents gave her that name, she figured they just hated her from the beginning to give her a name that doesn't suit her. "JJ and I both hate our government names. That's why we've always gone by nicknames!"

"... What's JJ's real name?" Rafe asked hesitantly with knitted eyebrows. Rafe didn't even realize that JJ had a different government name, yet now he felt like he just had to know. Jessie came out of her laughing fit to lean back on the railing she was propped up against. She kicked her leg up to prop her joint-clad hand on her knee as she took another drag with a smirk on her face.

"He'd kill me if I told you." Jessie replied. Maybe it was the weed talking, but she suddenly felt much looser around Rafe, as if she could tell him anything. Rafe didn't falter, only leaning in further and smirking as if to show that he insisted she tell him. Jessie read the signal loud and clear and smiled.

"James." She simply stated with a shit eating grin.

"James?!" Rafe scoffed with jaw dropped and eyes wide. "No way."

Jessie only nodded her head frantically to reiterate her point. Rafe only shook his head in response and took the blunt from the girl sitting opposite of him.

"You know, we're going to have to do this more often." Rafe said through a smile as he took another drag of the joint in his hand.

"Well, just come to me anytime you wanna get drunk or high and I'm your girl." Jessie bantered back.

Rafe paused for a moment and became a little more serious.

"That's not what I meant, Jess. I wanna see you again, but I wanna keep getting to know you, and not just because we're drunk or high."

Jessie sighed, "Rafe, you know I'm not the type of girl to be looking for a relat-"

"I didn't say anything about a relationship." Rafe shrugged lightheartedly, "You're just easy to talk to... I need that."

"I do too." Jessie said. That was a lie, Jessie didn't need anyone, and she knew it, but she was enjoying Rafe's company.

"Well you just say the word, and I'll come running." Rafe said with a goofy grin.

"Why do you care so much what your dad thinks?" Jessie asked with a somber look on her face.

"Why do you care so��little about what your dad thinks?" Rafe successfully dodged the question.

"I think that's pretty obvious." Jessie stated as she looked through the railing and puffed out a cloud of smoke. "He's a piece of shit. Always has been, always will be. He doesn't care about what I do, why should I care about what he thinks of me. Truth is, he doesn't think about me, or JJ... he only thinks about himself." Jessie finished with a shrug and a blank look on her face. That seemed to be the one topic to make Jessie go truly numb and send her back into her reclusive emotional state that she was so good at keeping up. Rafe could tell that Jessie was oddly detached from her father emotionally. It didn't seem like a front at all.

"So what you wanna be just like him?" Rafe asked with a hint of sarcasm. Jessie only dug deeper Into her numb state, that question only provoked something deep within her.

"No" she said simply, "I'll never be like him. Partying and doing some drugs does not mean I'm heartless."

"Oh, I know you're not heartless. You wouldn't be sitting on my balcony at three in the morning if you were." Rafe said plainly. Jessie knew he was right. She couldn't quite put her finger on why she was up here, other than she knew she wanted to be for whatever reason.

***

Jessie spent most of the agonizing plane ride replaying that night in her head. She knew that was the moment her and Rafe Cameron really connected. That night, Rafe learned about her past, her present, and her hopeful future, and Jessie learned the same about Rafe, but was all that still true-

"Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, we will be landing in the Bahamas in approximately 20 minutes."

[sigynpenniman]

I have this weird problem with like, completeism and permanence where I basically need to feel like I have the most complete version of something and also that it’s safe and mine forever in order to even feel interested in it at all. which is absolutely driven by my OCD and also absolutely the driving force behind my archivism. Anything I care about I want to preserve for eternity in its most complete form. But this makes video gaming extremely interesting to me because I have a kind of subconscious switch that is completely out of my control that literally just turns off any interest I have if something is not possible to obtain in a permanent and complete format even down to totally unimportant things like cosmetic DLCs. And before anyone tells me that this is extremely stupid and unhealthy, yes, I know 💗 it’s what having a mental illness does to ya. Anyway my point is that being this sort of person has me in a semi-permanent state of rage that basically the entire landscape of gaming is currently dominated by gatchas and battle passes. Any game which has like, items and characters locked in gatchas and lootboxes, real-world time limited battle pass type things like Fortnite seasons or Dreamlight Valley star paths, etc etc I just become immediately involuntarily uninterested in. It’s not even a deliberate statement or boycott or like I have to choose not to play things because I don’t agree with it it’s literally like the ADHD brain rat flips off the interest switch and I have basically no desire to play it at all. Which is unfortunate in some ways because yes there are a lot of games I would probably really enjoy that I haven’t played/gotten to play because of this but also I am just. So fucking pissed off about the way games work. Remember when you used to buy a video game cartridge for your DS and it was the whole game and there were no other things to buy and everything that was in the game could be accessed by playing the game skillfully and spending no more money. And it’s not even the money thing. I’m not even that mad about DLCs *existing* or paid cosmetics or whatever the fuck it’s when everything is locked behind literal gambling or events with real-world time limits. Dreamlight Valley star paths are the best example like. Oh you want this particular furniture set? Okay so you have to play the game multiple hours a day every day for the next two real world weeks. You want something that was in the star path last month? Fuck you it’s just gone now soz. I HATE this it’s so stupid! Why are all games like this now? How did “you bought the game and it’s the whole game and you can access everything in the game by playing the game at any pace or time” become a dying concept? And then half the time they’re live service connected which means even if you do spend a ton of money on the gambling guess what when the servers go offline in 5 years all of that stuff is just going to be gone!!! I may have spent an embarrassing amount of money on Stellaris DLCs but at least those are gonna keep working for as long as Windows 10 continues to be functional in a VM. Please can we stop making video games into horrible nickel and dime blind box gambling real world time pressure hells and start making games that it’s possible to 100% again