#this post was supposed to be better but i accidentally deleted it and had to do it again

[screwpinecaprice]

Reposting a connverse I made in 2021. Well, specifically posting this again after editing a few stuff.

I had been so bothered with how I kept editing Steven until I made his silhouette floppy-looking. So I fixed it a bit.

And that this was suppose to be flipped in the first place (which was why Connie's nose piercing was on the right side on the original.)

[winterarmyy]

winterarmyy's masterlist

Disclaimer: This masterlist may contain works with adult contents that is not appropriate for those who are under the age of 18. Please proceed at your own risk. Thank you.

Taglist: I do not use taglist system for my work anymore. You may follow me and turn on the notification for new updates. Don't worry about spamming, my blog posts are only consist of fic updates and asks replies.

Navigation: For now I only write for Bucky Barnes and all of my works are complete unless stated otherwise. Each of the work under a specific universe are listed chronologically based on the story's timeline.

Genre tags:  🥀 - angst    ⛓ - smut    🐇 - fluff    🖤 - dark

FRIENDLY REMINDER

• I will block you if you...

MY WORK

Plot Twist Universe ft. mafia!bucky

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

♥︎ Plot Twist (🐇)(⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III

♥︎ Around My Scars (🐇)(⛓) (🥀)

Behind The Facades Universe ft. avenger!bucky

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

♥︎ Behind The Facades (🥀) - Part I | Part II | Part III

And You're Mine Universe ft. alpha!bucky

How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega.

♥︎ Must Be Fate (🐇)

♥︎ And You're Mine (🐇) (🥀)

♥︎ Baby, Fever & Cuddles (🐇)

♥︎ Steal Me Away (🐇)

Welcome Home... Soldat? Universe ft. winter soldier!bucky

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

♥︎ Welcome Home... Soldat? (🐇) (⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III

♥︎ Welcome Home, Daddy (🖤) (🥀) (🐇)

Promise Me Universe ft. 40s!bucky / tfatws!bucky

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

♥︎ Promise Me (🥀) (🐇) - Part I | Part II | Part III

Thin Walls, Thin Lines Universe ft. fuckboy!bucky

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

♥︎ Thin Walls, Thin Lines (🥀)(🐇)(⛓) + Deleted Scene

Against All Odd Universe ft. medieval!bucky

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky

♥︎ Against All Odds (⛓)(🐇)(🥀) - Part I | Part II | Part III

A Series of Bucky Drabbles

♥︎ Until Then (🥀) (🐇) ft. 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky

A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with. (Inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift)

♥︎ I'm Not Like Her (🥀) (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body looks and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

♥︎ Never Lie To Me (⛓) ft. winter soldier!bucky

In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated. (Inspired by I Can See You by Taylor Swift )

♥︎ My Person (🐇)(⛓) ft. tfatws!bucky

In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

♥︎ Kiss It Better (⛓)(🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

♥︎ He Hates Me, Doesn't He? (🥀) ft. tfatws!bucky

You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

♥︎ Sleepy Heads (🐇) ft. tfatws!bucky

That time when the reader accidentally fell asleep on a stranger’s shoulder in the subway ride home. The stranger in question, however, is none other than the former Winter Soldier, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

♥︎ A Fucking Treasure (⛓)(🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

A date gone wrong? Same old, same old. But, having Bucky pinning her against the wall, now that’s new.

♥︎ I Knew It Then (🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

If it was supposed to be a casual thing, then why does it hurts so much?

♥︎ Most Precious (🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

In which Bucky and the reader had to take shelter from the snow storm after abandoning a mission due to the reader's 'mistake'.

More drabbles coming soon...

A Series of Random Bucky Blurbs

Midnight Rain (🥀) ft. 40's!bucky

Breast-pumping Routine (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky

Forced Marriage (🐇) (⛓) ft. duke's illegitimate son!bucky

Dark!Bucky stalking the reader (🐇) (⛓) ft. dark!tfatws!bucky

Reader shuts down emotionally (🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

MY RECOMMENDATIONS

Support other writers here: #fic rec

All my recommendations are consist of Sebastian Stan's characters.

[thatsprettylane]

Making my own post about this because I accidentally derailed a post about aces who have sex (misunderstood sex positive as just not being sex repulsed. Whoops!) OP kindly asked me to delete and I obliged because even though there’s an overlap, aces who have sex deserve their own space. So!

Some of us experience sexual attraction without the desire to act on it. I’m aegosexual, which means sex without the self. I love sex as a concept, but engaging with it directly? I’m not really into it. To take from @eisly, I’m a fan of football, but I don’t want to be down on the field playing it.

And because of the misconceptions out there about ace people, it took me a really long time to figure out. I had the same fantasies and attractions as anyone else growing up, but when my friends started having sex, I still didn’t want to. At first I thought I was just “better” than them (we were in high school! We shouldn’t be doing this! Sex is bad!) and then as time went on and I found myself in a serious relationship in college, I started to think maybe I was broken. I wanted to please my partner, and while I enjoyed the closeness between us that sex led to, I still didn’t like it the way I was “supposed” to. I started to wonder if maybe it was my partner, or us together, but deep down, I knew it was me.

Finding out that asexuality is just as much of a spectrum as any other sexuality was a lifeline. Not just for me, but for my partner, too. I realized we just weren’t compatible and we broke up. Now he’s married with a child and happier than ever. And I know who I am and what I want.

[mao22716]

bonus comic ( wooo clap clap clap)

no overlay ver:

can u even see the difference....

commenting on my drawing u can ignore (pls do)

omg all my comments r gone bc i accidentally posted and i deleted it out of panic 😭😭😭😭😭

overall im very happy with this its around 80% of what i originally had in mind

in my imaginagtion i wanted the picture to look more blue bc its morning and its bright but if i put a lot of overlay the colours wont look interesting anymore i am conflicted

so ill post both with some blue overlay and without it

im gonna wait until the day after i make this draft to post so that i can see if theres anything i can improve on it has been a few hrs since i first made the draft and i made some changes to the drawing

i actually changed a few things already like the hair ribbon (it was blue previously) and the umbrella handle (it was a dark brown like the bag)

i also put some pink in the umbrella bc i thought it was too plain i hope it looks good to everyone else who might be seeing it

i want kurikos face to be the focus but i find it hard to do that bc the umbrella is also a light colour so i tried to put more shadow & hopefully theres more contrast

the bag is easier to focus on.... this is sad

the ribbons on the bag r also sad but they look like ribbons so thats good

im not good at perspective so the bottom of the skirt might look out of place but i did my best to fix it by rendering

it looks messy but its supposed to be like that pls believe me

the hair was so fun to paint theres so many colours that go well tgt and looks pleasing

mao cafe hahhha im so funny lolol

i think i could have painted the nose better but idk how to make it look better

aaaa i wanna go back and change it & put bigger dust and sparkles around the character i looked at it too long and its boring

i should redo the mouth too maybe

also i have an idea that saiki was made to wear lolita dress as kuriko bc yumehara and aiura bribed him with expensive coffee jelly

i want to make small comic i dont have confidence but ill do my best

^^^ i did it..... i hope u will like it its very messy but i think it shows what is happening clearly

[harumasa-wifey]

MAY I REQUEST HUGGING REN FOR UR GOAL SPECIAL PLS PLS PLS

An accidental Hug?

Ren Shiranami X Fem! Reader

Warnings: none just fluff and a bit of crack/mentions of haru and Towa

Note: i was writing an angst fic before this which was supposed to be my first post but Google doc being a bitch and with my stupidity when i tried to copy it i deleted half of my progress and couldn't bring it back I want to cry I was so done with that but here is your request anon i hope you like it.i have not proofread this pls tell me if you notice any mistakes!

He couldn't believe the position he was in right. How did he even get so close to her?Their faces inches apart almost about to kiss her hands wrapped around his shoulder and his on her waist. He wanted to say something but his words were stuck in throat .He couldn't bring himself to pull away starch that he didn't want to pull away at all. But then…

*BZZZZZZZT* “ARRRGH”he woke up with scream sweating and heavily breathing he frantically looked around to see if he was still in his room which he was he glanced at his phone alarm still ringing which was weird because he usually wakes up before his alarm well against his will because haru breaks into his room to wake him up every morning.

“Heck of a way to wake up a guy…” he muttered, calming down and deciding to forget what happened and get fresh and have his breakfast before class. As he went his way down the stairs he heard a familiar voice calling up to him.

There she was doing what he was supposed to this morning to get all tons of those blankets in. He looked at her as she wished him. “Good morning ren!” and Oh boy his next steps weren't so clever as his mind flashed him all the images he had dreamt of. He tripped over his next step down.”WOHA REN”she yelled in surprise as he fell on her and they both ended up in the pile of clean blankets she was bringing in. Maybe this was the exact position he dreamt of or even better as it's coming true. Their faces inches apart with him on the top of her with several blankets covering them in and her hands wrapped around his shoulders wincing in pain as they both tumbled down the stairs. They both went stiff as their eyes met but it wasn't uncomfortable at all, (Un)Fortunately the silence was broken by a worried haru with a worried peekaboo who rushed over after hearing her scream “[name]!! Are you alright!?” “booo” They both quickly got off each and the blanket mess covering them by which haru wasn't able to see the position they were in at all. “ I am fine!! It's just Ren tripped and fell down the stairs” she replied hurriedly Turning over to him to check off any injuries from the fall. While she was getting up Towa came from the back ripping the blankets off ren who was still processing what happened and making him fall on his face again and handed those blankets over to her with a smile “~~~⁠♪”. “ARGH, can you not do that!? Dude i just woke up” he yelled already feeling pretty much annoyed he can't even look her in the eye without having flashbacks which were just more embarrassing. “Hmm mm!” Towa said in disapproval and pulled him up from the ground while Haru was asking her if she had any injuries. He glanced over to her but she was already looking at him with a small smile. Oh he is never going to live this down.

[eyrina-avatar]

Kinktober

Gas, Cash, or Ass

prompts: #27 anal

pairing: adult neteyam x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, nsfw, smut, possessive/dom neteyam, anal. proofread once

this was accidentally posted like a month before because tumblr decided to change the scheduling date and posted it without me knowing and I had to run to delete it. So if you saw it the first round, no you didn't🫠

"Hi Nete!" you waved as the tall Na'vi came to a halt on his direhorse.

"Hey! What's up? " Neteyam watched as you struggled with the jug and basket in your hands.

"Not much... Just on the way to fill this water jug for Mo'at and then I have to catch some fish for the festival later."

He chuckled, "I don't think you'll be able to carry both at the same time."

"Well, it would have been better if I found a pa'li like you did... but I was in a rush and haven't really perfected my mounting skills yet."

"I suppose you need a small favor then?" He smirked as you nodded.

Neteyam saddled the items in place and helped you up the pa'li.

"Thanks," you looked down as your cheeks blushed a light purple.

"No problem," He gave his pa'li a tap before making way to the river.

~~~~~

"Alright, I hope you enjoyed your ride." Neteyam stopped his pa'li by the riverside and handed you the basket and jug after you got yourself down.

"Thanks... I really appreciate it!" You smiled as you got ready to collect some water. Placing the basket on the floor you turned around only to find Neteyam in front of the river, blocking you.

"Pay up," was all he stated as he looked down on you from his seat.

"What?" You cocked your head in confusion, not sure if you heard him right.

"You heard me. Pay up. Gas, cash, or ass." Neteyam crossed his arms, causing you to stare at him dumbfounded.

"The fuck do you mean gas, cash, or ass?" You furrowed your eyebrows together. "Neteyam your pa'li doesn't even use gas! And you don't even know what cash is. How could you possibly know what that phrase means?"

"It's just like that little sticker thing on the sky people's helicopters. Almost all the guys have it."

"And what, you're a sky person now?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"No, but it seems like a good system so I adopted it."

"Yea whatever, you're not getting any." You tried walking away but Neteyam parked his pa'li in front of you again.

"Nu-uh, you heard me. Gas, cash or ass."

"Are you for real? Am I supposed to get food out of no where and feed your pa'li when it can get food itself?" You put the jug down to cross your arms.

"Well then, cash or ass." He responded nonchalantly.

"But I don't have any cash on me!" You exclaimed in frustration. "Plus, what could you possibly need cash for, huh? There's not much use for it here on pandora. The most you could get is some pricey soft toilet paper at the avatar facility, a lolipop for Tuk, or a cigarette that the military guys are always smoking?" You crossed your arms.

"Well I don't need cash for a cigarette when I could just get one from Grace's drawers. From what I saw, she was always puffing like there's no tomorrow." Neteyam shrugged.

"Na'vi's don't smoke. Plus, Kiri wouldn't let you anywhere near Grace's things in the first place."

"You're right, I don't smoke and there's no use for cash here. So... ass." Neteyam gave you a small smirk. "That or I won't be giving you any more free rides."

"Says the one who's asking to be ridden" you murmur in a low voice.

"What was that?" he cocked his head in question.

"Nothing, nothing." You clarify.

"Well, you heard me. Plus, who's going to help you back to home tree after you finish your fishing. Are you just gonna go on that hour long walk carrying that heavy basket and jug?"

"No..." you let out in a small whisper.

"Then you're gonna have to pay up. That or a long burdensome walk."

"But that's not fair! Na'vi's are supposed to help each other out. Do you expect this form of payment every time I ask you to take me somewhere?!" you let out.

"Umm, yes." Neteyam grinned, knowing you had no choice.

"Screw you! You know what?! Next time I'll just ask Tsrüyem to help me out with my hunt! He's kind and strong, and he certainly won't be asking for any of those favors of yours in return." You huffed away, smirking as you got a glimpse of neteyam's slick smile wiped off his face at the mention of Tsrüyem.

"Wait, wait." He hopped off his pa'li and grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"How about just this one time, and I'll take you anywhere you want, whenever you want. Want to go to home tree, I'll take you. To the avatar facility, I'll take you. To the hallelujah mountains, I'll take you. It doesn't matter if it's guiding you there, giving you a free ride on my ikran or on a pa'li. Just once and I'll take you anywhere you want." He pleaded with you, eyes looking directly into yours.

You worked hard to hide the smirk that threatened to grow on your face. Perfect, just what you wanted. Neteyam begging and you making him your personal travel man, taking you anywhere you wanted, whenever you wanted.

"Hmm, I don't know... even in the middle of the night?" You questioned, scrunching your face as you pretended to debate within yourself.

"Yes, even at night! Whenever you want." Neteyam let out as his tail swished left and right excitedly.

"Even if I want to trade with the Tayrangi clan, all the way to the seaside, by the cliffs? You'll have to take me there whenever I want..." You cocked your head to one side.

"Yes, yes! I said whenever and wherever, didn't I?"

"Fine. You have yourself a deal." You made your way towards him and trailed your slim fingers over his torso, running them up and down before stopping at the hem of his loincloth and trailing them back up to his neck.

"On one condition, sweetheart..." he let out in a purr.

"Hmm, and what's that?" your warm lips hovered his ear.

"That I'm the one in charge now." And with that, he turned you over and grabbed your wrists behind you with his one hand while he used the other to push you on a nearby rock, causing you to let out a yelp.

Your face and breasts were squished against the low rock as your legs supported you. He gave you a light smack as your ass stuck up.

"Neteyam, what do you think-"

"Don't worry, I won't go all in at once. I'll let you adjust."

"And who said you could be in charge???" you barely managed out as Neteyam gave your ass a nice squeeze, making you whine.

"A deal's a deal, princess." And with that he pulled your beige shorts down, reveling your pretty plump bottom.

"Aha, so that's why you haven't switched to using a loincloth yet. Hiding that cute little butt of yours huh?" Neteyam bent down to give your ass a wet kiss, letting his tongue run sloppily all over your bottom. You couldn't help but moan as his mouth ran wild and his hand played with the hem of your underwear.

"Oh fuck..." you let out in a breathy voice.

"Enjoying that, ma'syulang? Huh? Let's see what's under these cute little panties of yours." His hands let go of your wrists, allowing you to support yourself on the rock as he ran his fingers along your panties, pulling it down while he inched his crotch near your rear. A light hiss escaped his lips as you reached behind you and began rubbing his length through his loincloth.

"Fuck..." he closed his eyes in bliss as you palmed him. You inched your ass closer to him and moved it up and down, rubbing your bottom on his hard member.

"Looks like someone's excited." You couldn't help but chuckle as you pulled his loincloth down, causing it to drop on the floor. Neteyam reached for the red plant next to him and broke it in half, causing a slippery substance to flow out of it. He applied the liquid on himself and wiped his fingers on it before applying some to your hole as well.

"Be easy okay, it's my first time doing... anal." You looked behind, watching as Neteyam almost fingered you.

"I thought you never had sex with anyone before?" He tilted his head in question.

"That too..." You looked down and he couldn't help but chuckle. You were just too cute, Neteyam couldn't decide if he wanted to break you in half or eat you up.

"Alright, I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts." You nodded at him and he slowly entered his length inside of you.

"Nghh" you couldn't help but whimper at the odd and painful feeling of your ass being stretched out.

"Fuck" Neteyam groaned as he continued pushing himself in until he bottomed out, getting his full length inside.

He paused for a bit, "You good?"

"Mhm," was all you managed as you got used to the feeling. You squirmed a bit in place and moved your ass a little forward then backwards to signal that you were ready. Neteyam pulled out a bit before slowly pumping himself back in.

Your mouth fell open as his hips kept on moving, slightly hitting your ass as he thrust inside of you.

"I think you can go faster." You let out in a breathy voice.

"You sure?" He stopped, making sure he heard you correctly before continuing.

"Yes." That was all he needed for hips to start moving faster. Neteyam repeatedly pulled out before slamming right back inside of you. His hands held onto the rock as his thrusts grew faster and groans escaped from his lips.

"Shit. Baby, you're so tight." His face fell into the crook of your neck. The both of you were now in doggy position and the sound of the few moans that betrayed him only made your core grow in wetness.

"Ah... ah" you couldn't help but whine as Neteyam's thrusts hit you at an ungodly pace. You turned your face around and were met with his, grabbing his cheek with your hand you pulled him in for a kiss while his cock used your poor asshole.

"Fuck..." Neteyam moaned into your mouth as his hips hit your bottom, filling the air with the sound of skin smacking against each other.

"Oh my god!" you dropped your head down as Neteyam's cock hit your insides, making you weak in the knees.

"Fuck, y/n... I think I'm about to burst." He placed wet kisses all over your neck as his hips started moving frantically and sloppily, a sign that he was about to reach his high.

"Fuck... You *thrust* take *thrust* me *thrust* so *thrust* well!" His head dropped onto you the crook of your neck as you felt his cock twitch inside. Neteyam's teeth sank slightly into your shoulders, earning a light hiss from you as felt his his warm liquid ooze inside of you.

As his high washed over him, Neteyam's movements slowed down until he came to a complete halt. Out of breath, the both of you made eye contact, causing you to let out a small chuckle in unison.

"How's that for payment?" You smirked as he grinned.

"More than enough." Neteyam chuckled as he pulled out, making you groan at the lack of warmth.

"Yeah well, you actually have to pay me back." You grinned as you turned yourself over, laying yourself on your back.

"Yea?" He scoffed. "That was pretty much it, no?"

"You're done when I say so." You pushed Neteyam back, causing him to land on the mossy ground.

"Wait hold on, I still need to recover from the orga-"

Untying your top, you seated yourself on his thighs. "Then get to work limp dick."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

has anyone seen those bumper or window stickers on cars that say gas, cash, or ass? yea, I made this based off of that

as always, comments/reblogs are always much appreciated as they help support and motivate your favorite writers, thank you❤!

tags: @daeneeryss , @eyweveng , @vee1728 , @pandoraslxna

@justonesadlonelymoth @skywonder

do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad

© eyrina-avatar

colors used: {29, 157, 238} and {31, 87, 255}

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

yes, that French Olympic Opening Ceremony was so fantastic that  the International Olympic Committee has now deleted the YouTube video of its own opening ceremony and is issuing DMCA copyright claims against anyone who posts footage (even legally allowable small snippets), and getting people banned from X. Way to go Olympics!

For an international forum that is supposed to be about unity of nations around shared love of sports....., offending hundreds of millions of Christians worldwide, grown men exposing their genitals in front of children and general degeneracy seems to still matter. If inclusivity means that families with children worldwide have to tolerate a celebration of debauchery without comment...... then inclusivity needs a redefinition..............

Now the French are making the argument that it wasn't a depiction of "The Last Supper", but of "The Feast of the Gods" by Jan van Bijlirt..... but then I have to ask the question: why is the figure in the middle wearing a glittering "halo" headdress like Jesus in the DaVinci's "Last Supper" painting???? Also, as to your argument that the Mona Lisa is also a DaVinci painting and is in the Louvre..... I have to say, then the French maybe should have mocked the Mona Lisa instead of a painting they don't own!

Apparently, we have gotten to the point where it is not possible to celebrate our togetherness and unity without some group of people being insulted and offended by their inclusion or exclusion. So corporations, sponsors, TV channels, the IOC, social media etc. are going to have to decide who exactly they want to leave offend......

I wonder if you've done any reflecting or re-calibration on your take the French Olympic Opening Extravaganza?

Nope, I haven’t. Because

1. I have other things and issues that are more local, more consequential, and more personal for me to worry about than a 15-second blink-and-miss-it tableau performed halfway around the world 2 days ago. Issues like losing my rights to exist as a free independent single woman and sick elderly nonagenarian grandparents.

2. I don’t spend my free time doomscrolling the news, social media, and the internet and getting sucked into algorithms that exploit my dislikes.

3. I have better things to do on a weekend than sit at home and fixate on criticism of an event that had nothing to do with me and that I *chose* to watch. I watched it. I liked it. Then I went to Waffle House and moved on.

4. I believe in personal responsibility. If I’m offended by my *choice,* then I understand I can only be angry and upset with *myself* so accordingly, I blame myself. I don’t go around blaming everyone else and forcing everyone else to be accountable to my personal mistake and bad choice.

It’s France. The French have different attitudes, different beliefs, and different cultural expectations than anywhere else around the world. They are much more lax in their attitudes towards romance and relationships. They are much more liberal in their attitudes towards religion and personal rights. If you knew that - and if you were watching the ceremony then you knew that - and you *still* chose to keep watching the program to see the drag queens and this mockery of Christianity that you’re so upset over, than that’s *your* choice. If you kept watching after Lady Gaga’s performance where the dude in short-shorts accidentally exposed himself, that was *your* choice. If you kept watching after the love/threesome scene, that was *your* choice. If you kept watching after the US livestream showed a statue of the woman who got abortion rights encoded in French law, that was *your* choice.

You didn’t have to watch the program. You didn’t have to keep watching the program. Woke hedonistic leftists did not break into your house, hold you at gunpoint, and force you to watch it or consume media/content about it. That was *your* choice. You could’ve turned it off at any time. But you didn’t. And so you saw things you didn’t like and now you want an entire country and culture to grovel and beg in an apology for *your* own personal decision to watch in the first place?

The IOC is caving to your demands because they need the money and support from the US to exist. That’s the only reason why they’re pulling videos down and censoring the ceremony. Not because the French did something wrong, but because a special group of Americans with enough political and media power to cancel their support and donations perceived it as a direct, personal attack and are angry over it.

5. I think that people who use the Bible, religion, and faith as tools to control and judge people for actions and beliefs that have nothing to do with them or that personally affects their day-to-day lives have forgotten, or don’t understand, what it actually means to be a christian. Matthew 7: “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Or Leviticus 19: “Love thy neighbor as thyself”…which you might know more colloquially as the golden rule, “treat others as you wish to be treated.”

In other words: You be you. I’ll do me. I’ll let you be you however you want to be you and you let me be me however I want me to be me. But if you can’t let that be and you force me to be more like you, then we have a problem. This is what I meant last week when I said “don’t start with me and I won’t start with you.”

I don’t care what the topic is, if we’re talking about Meghan and Harry or the BRF or religion or politics or the Olympics or French culture. The second anyone demands I need to reflect or recalibrate or change my opinion is the second our conversation is over.

Look, you have every right to be offended and angry by what you saw. But you have no right to force everyone else to see it the way you do. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I’m not changing the fact that I enjoyed the opening ceremony and thought it was a good time. It’s an opinion. Everyone’s got them, and everyone’s opinion is different. If you don’t like mine, then I wish you farewell and bid you good luck as you look for more likeminded company.

This is everyone’s final warning. If you keep coming at me about my opinion that I liked the opening ceremony, I’m going to clap back at you and it won’t be polite or respectful.

[watermelonsugacry]

So yk how h has been posting accidentally to his public ig story instead of his close friends? One day he post some really cute picture of wifey and he adds all the cute stickers he uses and he erases it like rq. it’s like omg he posted her accidentally BUTTT the kicker is that he also captioned it something like cute and dumb like “happy wife, happy life” and exposed tf out of them lolllll bcs he is sooooo the type to say that anyway loves u

Oh my gosh I like this better than my original idea

So this is the post he makes on his Instagram story that’s supposed to go on his close friends story but then quickly deletes it.

And every social media platform is going crazy over what was only up for 18 seconds.

GUYS DID THAT JUST SAY WHAT I THINK IT SAID???

THE RING!!!!

WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??

GUYS I DONT THINK THIS WAS A JOKE

THEY'RE FINALLY MARRIED?!!

HOW LONG AGO DID THEY DO THIS?

Aside from the obvious downside of Harry's fuck up, they actually had a plan on officially announcing their new marital status after their one-month anniversary... which was the next day.

(Here's their wedding chapter: Forevermore)

liked by harrystyles, prettypenny, and 7,879,203 others

yourinstagram 12/26 happy one month anniversary 💍❤

View all 98,786 comments

gemmastyles my sister!! ❤

annetwist my beautiful daughter-in-law

lizzobeeating A-YO!! so beautiful MRS STYLES

pillowpersonpp you looked so beautiful that day! ❤❤now mitch and I can call you hubby and wifey for real now

ynfan3 NOO WAY

ynfan2 I CANNOT HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW

ynrryfan7 we finally got their anniversary date!

harryfan1 the way that twitter is blowing up right now

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist, and 7,675,236 others

harrystyles 12/26 finally married my best friend 💍❤

View all 764 comments

yourinstagram took you long enough

↳harrystyles I was waiting on YOU...but it was well worth the wait

↳jefezoff hey h, what happened to 'happy wife, happy life?' 😂

ynfan3 their bickering is so cute!

ynfan2 GUYS THIS IS REAL!!!

harryfan1 i've been manifesting this day for so long!

liked by annetwist, prettypenny, and 879,203 others

gemmastyles you guys were made for each other ❤

View all 798 comments

ynfan3 they're so IN LOVE 🥹

ynfan2 I NEED SOMEONE TO LOOK AT ME THE WAY HARRY IS LOOKING AT YN

harryfan6 it's rumored that they did a backyard wedding!

ynrryfan8 small wedding choice is so them

liked by yourinstagram, harryfan1, and 969,764 others

louis91 welcome to the family @harrystyles

(for all the times I've caught your asses kissing in the hallways)

View all 764 comments

yourinstagram mind yeh business lou

ynfan3 WAIT TELL US ABOUT THESE TIMES

ynfan2 literally half of 1d are now family

harryfan1 her and harry standing next to each other i can’t

liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles, and 979,783 others

niallhoran congrats to you both. love you guys 🥂

View all 231 comments

↳yourinstagram we love you more Nialler ❤

↳harrystyles thank you for being with us on our special day 🤍

harryfan1 NIALL WAS AT THEIR WEDDING AWWW

ynfan3 DID WE GET A 1D REUNION?? AND WE MISSED IT?

ynrryfan6 supposedly it was only Niall and Louis

liked by ynfan2, harryfan6, and 979,783 others

zayn it was only a matter of time

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yourinstagram ❤❤

harryfan1 look at them!! so baby 😍

ynfan3 after 12 years they're finally married!!

ynrryfan6 they don't even know what lies ahead of them

liked by ynfan1, prettypenny, and 502,203 others

lottietomlinson @louis91 & @yourinstagram the second they saw each other

View all 472 comments

ynfan4 I LOVE THEM

ynfan3 they're such siblings oh my gosh

harryfan1 they're five years old and i love it

liked by ynfan9, ynrryfan3, and 532,203 others

harryflorals more of Niall and Louis at YN and Harry's wedding!

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harrfan6 i still can't wrap my head around what's going on

ynfan3 NOUIS!!

ynfan2 their brothers were there for their special day!!!!

harryfan2 i bet they both cried

liked by ynfan9, harryfan2, and 86,912 others

ynupdates Liam just posted this on his Instagram story!

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harryfan1 THEY WERE SO LITTLE

ynfan3 fetus ynrry!!

ynfan2 wait was he not at their wedding?

↳harryfan4 why do i get the feeling that that was on him 🤔

liked by ynfan1, prettypenny, and 58,361 others

ynrry_updates YN's stepmum posted the first pic and then she reposted Mitch & Sarah's post on her Instagram story!!

View all 165 comments

ynfan6 stop this is so cute

harryfan4 harry's a lucky guy

ynfan3 the MR & MRS STYLES?!!

harryfan5 she looks so beautiful!!

.

.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

I write for free so if any of you lovies would like to help a college girl out and buy her a ko-fi i would greatly appreciate it :) 💚

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305

[itoshiexx]

HI BB CAN I REQUEST 41 FOR THE KISS PROMPT W ISAGI AND FEM READER??🥺🫶

even when it rains

synopsis: yoichi is always by your side to shield you from the rain and help bring the sun once again.

pairing: isagi yoichi x gn!reader | words: 893 | warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort, bad days, fluff

notes: god i had to repost this bc i accidentally deleted the other one (kill me),,, anyways, ANYTHING FOR U AIMEE!! tysm for requesting and i really hope u like it, i wanted to do something a bit different! <3 and if anyone would like to request something from the kiss prompts just see this post!

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella.

masterlist

“it’s raining.”

your voice catches him off guard — it's hoarse and meek like he has seen just a few times before. isagi supposes it’s better than the suffocating silence that was coating your living room for quite a while now, but he hates the sad undertones of his favorite melody.

confused, he turns to look at the window, only to see the sky in a pretty baby blue color. there are a few clouds scattered around, but none of them is gray, instead being a fluffy white that reminds him a lot of cotton candy. lastly, the sun shines and spreads its scorching heat through the town. there’s no indication that it’s raining whatsoever. 

“baby,” he starts, a bit hesitant. “it’s sunny.”

you’re not looking at him. your eyes are out of focus, staring at something that only you can see, and his heart breaks a little at the sight. that’s probably why he scoots closer to you, his arm circling your shoulder until your head gently lays on his clavicle. your skin feels cold to the touch, and he starts to rub your arm.

“are you cold?” he asks, kind as always. 

you nod. “i’m cold. it’s raining, yoichi.”

he furrows his eyebrows. maybe he looked at the wrong side of the window? or maybe it was those small summer drizzles? but he was absolutely positive there was no water falling from the sky. was he going crazy?

your shoulders hunch like the weight you carry is getting more unbearable by the second. you sigh, exhaling a long puff of air that screams how tired you are. isagi swears you tremble a little. 

“are you okay?” he can’t help but inquire, thinking your behavior is odd. “i’m sorry, sweetie, but i’m sure it’s not raining. the sky is crystal clear.”

and then you turn to face him for the first time, and yoichi’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he has never seen your expression so hollow, so defeated. like you’ve been trying to fight countless battles only to end up losing the war. 

“it’s raining, yoichi… it’s raining inside of me.” your voice fails, but he hears you nonetheless. his chest squeezes at the tears accumulating on your lash line, and his arm hugs you a little tighter. “please, make it stop.”

he wishes he could. isagi hated to see you sad or in pain, and if he could scoop these unpleasant feelings out of you, he would do it in a heartbeat. he would do anything to see you smiling again at him, or singing softly while cooking, or feeling content watching your favorite show on netflix. truthfully, he would do anything for you.

“did something happen?” he needs to know. did someone hurt you? 

“no, i just… i’m so tired,” you answer, and he can feel your exhaustion on his own bones. he can only wonder what it feels like to be in your body right now. “so, so tired. i can’t take it anymore. it keeps raining inside of me and it’s like i can’t bring the sun again.”

oh. it was one of your bad days, yoichi realizes. he just took a bit longer to understand because you never actually used a rain metaphor to describe your feelings, but maybe that was the way you found to cope with them. and who was he to not indulge you?

he calmly pulls his arm off you and stands up, patting his clothes before going inside the house. you watch with curious eyes, slightly confused by his lack of words and sudden movement, and they widen when you spot your boyfriend coming back with a yellow umbrella in hand, smiling sweetly.

he takes his place next to you, swiftly opening the umbrella and putting it above your heads. and he stares at you like you are nothing but the sun, and not a confusing rainstorm that could wreak havoc and destroy everything on your way. 

“there you go! now we’re protected from the rain.”

your mouth is slightly agape — although you expected to be comforted somehow (because yoichi never failed to do so), that was not what you had in mind. 

but he’s just like this, you think. always kind and loving, doing his best so that you are comfortable and never, ever scared of showing yourself and how you truly felt. every time he did these little things, it was like he was saying trust me, i won’t  judge you. 

the tears fall, but they don’t feel like rain. not anymore. 

“yeah,” you say, smiling faintly for the first time. “yeah, we are.”

his gaze is fond, and his fingers tenderly wipe your cheeks to stop your crying. it’s soothing and grounding, but again, yoichi always is. with a smile, he cups your jaw, and, when his face grows closer to yours, you don’t think twice before connecting your lips.

the love you feel for him pours from your heart until is all you can sense, and suddenly, the sky is clear again. there is just you and him, and he’s kissing you, and maybe, just maybe, the world isn’t so bad if you can have isagi yoichi to yourself like this. 

when you part, his whisper feels like a lifeline, “i’m here with you, baby.”

his hand finds yours, and your fingers interlace. 

“even when it rains.”

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[samarqqand]

hi! i recently discovered and have eagerly been reading (and re-reading) all of your fics - your writing is astounding and weaves a story so beautifully, you’ve quickly become one of my favourite silm writers ☺️ in a few comments/notes you’ve talked about other fic - bits you had posted on tumblr that i suppose have been deleted? and you also mentioned another maglor/melkor fic - would you ever post these tidbits? i’d really love to read them even if they’re unfinished!

but if not, thanks for sharing what you already have and know that it’s very much appreciated ☺️

hey hi hi -- i 100% cannot tell you what this message means to me!! seriously, i'm so humbled and so so pleased that these little fics have landed for you!! so thank you, thank you so much for taking the time to read. and! for taking the time to compose this thoughtful message. you've made my week. :']

i think a number of wip snippets or excerpts ended up deleted when i uhhh accidentally deleted my tumblr a while back (all that curation-!!). fie on me.

here's a chunk from early on in that melkor/maglor one -- it's extremely long, and even more extremely unwieldy (i've written myself into some tangles here), but the conceit is Melkor befriending & seducing Maglor in Valinor during the Noontide, & this secret companionship of course cedes to disaster (and monsterfucking, with Melkor's less porcelain, less pleasing form) once the Darkening hits.

again, thank you so much for your interest and superb-kind words. :] (& sorry for any wip-type mistakes in this except, and for the lack of the beloved ë in Makalaurë!!)

*

Tools to nurture or desecrate; tools to reap and sow. Tools to convert. Sharp tools, dull tools.

Melkor gathers each one according to his design, wrenching each free of its moorings and testing its mettle.

He follows Makalaure and two of his brothers home as a dark breeze: harmless as hearth smoke if not for its whispers of the East beyond the Sea. 

The three Noldor princes fall over themselves laughing, made pliant with drink. Casting aside pretense in Tirion’s streets, they join hands and circle into a dance. Makalaure demonstrates a complicated footwork that he insists is in vogue in Valimar; the preeminent bard would know, after all.

Maitimo is a fast learner, but over-tall: Carnistir yelps and shoves when Maitimo steps on his foot. Maitimo kicks at him, grinning. The two abandon the dance to gallop kicking at each other instead: carefree just beyond their majority and expectant of nothing more or less than this lukewarm paradise promised to them.

Only Makalaure, laughing, carries on dancing alone. He countervails his brothers��� happy warfare with defiant grace. A twist of his wrist, fingers upturned in invitation, and swift soundless steps, he entices the breeze.

He entices the breeze. 

And the breeze, enticed, curls in on him; it twists into his hair and swifts around his waist with a lover’s persuasion. Just there under its current, the suggestion of a gale: howling, hard-hearted.

And the breeze pulls.

Makalaure feels the pull. He halts and whirls around, the smile on his lips dying as he looks toward the vacant alleyways and doorsteps.

Maitimo and Carnistir take his hands again; they dance him away before he can wonder.

III.

It begins with a chime. 

The faint peal, spectral and displaced in Makalaure’s bedchamber, stills his composing.

Quill in hand and oud reclining across his crossed legs, he frowns down at the parchment as he listens. He holds his breath to better hear the tone and intuit its meaning.

He glances about his chamber. 

When he turns to his bed, he finds a jagged shadow sitting upon it. 

He quails back; the oud upsets from his lap and thuds against the carpet.

Such a dark. It rests in the way of a thing that has been biding its time.

“Do you know me, child of Fëanáro?” asks the shadow in a many-throated voice felt before heard. 

When heard, rich as velvet, beautified for Eldarin ears.

Makalaurë ducks his head against the sound, his eyes rapidly scanning his parchment and the polished oud as though to glean a means of escape.

Melkor’s voice is beautified for Eldarin ears, but it is not beautiful.

— Makalaurë’s voice is beautiful.

Melkor’s voice is —

The shadow moves to stand before Makalaurë, a penumbra stretching before his eyes.

Ruinous, Makalaurë distantly recognizes.

“Do you know me?” Makalaurë returns then, his voice level to counter the apprehension evident in the set of his shoulders. “Do you know my name? Or indeed is Fëanáro and his ire what you would seek, imposing so upon his house?”

A bright grin slices through the shadow.

“You have the wrong chambers,” Makalaure finishes, clipped.

“Impetuous are raised Feanaro’s sons,” arrives the low voice, accented with a moribund tongue. Makalaure shivers again to hear it; he slips his hands inside his robe’s sleeves to smooth at his arms. “Comforted by the futility of their lot, emboldened by the clutch of their captivity.”

Makalaure glances toward his door, meaning to depart, to hurry from his wing of the compound and call for his brothers. And yet he stays seated, cogitating on the divinity’s words so akin to his father’s. The similarity compels his cautious eyes to return to the Vala.

Fair-minded as is Eldarin wont, he responds to the familiarity with a pale hue of due respect for a Vala: “So what is it, then, that Melkor would request of Feanaro’s son?” 

“Fair is the second son of Feanaro,” Melkor speaks, “with his rare gift.”

Is it worship to share a gift?

“A song from his commanding lips.”

Makalaure grasps for his oud’s unfretted throat and straightens his back, immediately assuming a performer’s bearing even as incredulity creases his brow.

“A song.” He hesitates. “Want of a song compelled you all this way to my chambers?”

A rippling silence impresses upon the space they make between themselves.

“I do not understand.”

Such a dark. A dark new to him; for all Makalaure’s words, eluding description. He blinks into it.

“Which song would please you, Lord Melkor?”

“A song none but mine ears shall hear.”

Makalaure pauses again before he blinks down to his writing. He pages back the parchment once, twice, to where a composition’s scrawl trails into blank eggshell white, unfinished. With his eagle quill pick, he coaxes the oud’s coupled strings into a tentative rhythm. “I can offer you naught but a draft, then.”

When he drifts into singing, the wash of sweet words clear his uncertainty; they build a shelter from apprehension. Comfortable for now, commanding for now, he sings of silver inside the rock and silver from the Tree. Silver of the chattering runnels and silver of the fish that glimmer therein.

Of serenity he sings, the serenity of Valinor: all he knows.

And yet, while the words tide through well-trod sentiments, Makalaure still smiles through the sequence of satisfactions.

Telperion’s light winding through unbound hair; the silken shadows caressing fair faces.

The silken shadows caress fair faces.

Melkor smiles.

An oud string snaps.

The bleak twang rattles Makalaure out of his performance. He starts and clutches at his oud like a child he would comfort. “I am sorry,” he murmurs, distracted, “I have never known these strings to give — “

“Thy voice is the fairest in Aman, son of Feanaro,” Melkor intones again, a deep twist of sound. And suddenly he is crouched before Makalaure upon the floor, having closed in with such immediacy that Makalaure takes a moment to react to Melkor’s visage — a little intake of air — now freed of darkness and distance. Melkor is handsome, and  and unnavigable as a cliff’s sheer stone face.

Slowly, Makalaure draws up his knees around his oud, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. “You humble me,” he responds. He glances away from Melkor to guide the Vala’s attention to where Melkor’s flower, wilted now, rests on his writing desk. It had blackened away quickly upon its arrival at Feanaro’s house, insult for an insult.

“More sweetly I would reward thee, second son.”

Makalaure’s fingers press against his broken string. They look at each other.

A knock at his door. Makalaure turns to it furtively. “Yes?” he calls.

“Me,” Maitimo announces through the oak.

Makalaure looks back to Melkor. 

He finds himself alone in his bedchamber. 

His shoulders slump — an exhale — a tension untying. An emptiness that would leave him questioning if he had ever been anything but alone in this place.

He feels at the snapped string in his hand, considering.

Then he swiftly moves the oud out of sight, as though a shame he would hide.

[orpiknight]

OrpiKnight's FAQ FAQ

For the Neil Gaiman Tumblr FAQ

GO S3 was announced! Will you be updating the FAQ still? Yep! :)

--- Who? Vel (blog OrpiKnight)

Why? I'm excited about Good Omens 2, I was looking through the Asks on Neil Gaiman's blog anyway, and I like having a constructive outlet when I'm going through so much information. And there were a lot of repeat questions. I mainly made it for me and my friends for reference, but then decided to go ahead and throw it out into the Tumblr void, too.

*Are a lot of these questions really frequently asked? Well, this started out being called a "QnA" doc because I was compiling the Asks. Then everyone kept calling it a "FAQ". So I rolled with it. It keeps up with the current Asks as much as possible, though. (I have no way of knowing how many times he gets asked some questions. That's for his inbox to know.)

Will you be actively updating it with new questions/answers? Yes. I update in batches now, every month or so. For my sanity. *When I update things, I usually put the new questions at the bottom of their section, even if they might fit next to something else in it better. This is just to make new ones easier to find. Later on I might reorganize them.

Can you put it in a Tumblr post? No. It's too much information, it can hang out on docs (which is 30+ pages). I'm pretty sure I would hit a word limit if I put it on here. Or break my dash. Or accidentally delete it. *You don't need a Google account to access it. I have tested this signed out on non-Chrome browsers. (I use Firefox btw)

You missed some Asks. Yeah... there is no way I could get all of them. I had to draw the line somewhere.

Some of the questions are strange. Don't I know it. Edit: But I do like to put in all sorts of questions. Sometimes there are things that don't even occur to me to ask that Neil says he gets constant questions about (like the ice cream/ice lolly). Sometimes there are things that I don't realize need clarifying (like "two consenting bicycle repairmen"). One person can ask a creatively specific question that other people are quietly wondering about. I also like the funny ones.

I found an error (typo/link not going to where it's supposed to/accidentally wrong info/etc.)?

But seriously, it's okay to message me to let me know. It's very helpful.

Can I have shared editing access to your document? No.

About the fanfiction thing... Please end my suffering. (And Neil Gaiman's) Edit: I should probably clarify that I do like fanfiction.

I have personal opinions. Please be nice to me.

Can you add or change this, that, or whatever? I work irl, am usually tired, and don't have much time to constantly edit every little thing. Unless you're Neil Gaiman himself asking, it's likely I'm just going to leave it how I organized it. And I mean that in the politest way possible. Speaking of, if you would like to help me out at all with things like bills, medical costs, and food— here's my: Venmo: @ajgvel Ko-fi page (It says you're giving me ducks on there! :D)

It's not expected of course. Regardless, much love to everyone, and thanks for making a space where we can all have fun together about something we enjoy. ♡

Find me on Bluesky: OrpiKnight

[madame-fear]

Okay, so. Yesterday I received a rather extent anon message blaming me for, apparently, “not being neutral in the drama” because I’m mutuals with someone that had little involvement in the situation I think, and as I found out today, my mutual already clarified things and apologised.

I left my answer to the ask in the drafts, but today I opted to ignore the message and remove the drafted answer. I did this not only because I wanted to drop things already and not stir up any more shit, but also because I have a condition where I constantly tremble, and any extreme emotion — whether it’s good or bad — makes my shaking worsen to the point I can barely function even for basic things and I feel sick in the stomach.

It wasn’t worth going through that. I thought it would be better to answer ask messages of people ranting, or asking things about it that were within the reach of my knowledge.

Until today, that a burner account named @/quillantrophy (which, they accidentally exposed their real account @/wewereforever in one of their screenshots and now they both deactivated), thought they could do a “call out” post... Posting my answers to anon asks & basically treating me as a hypocrite over nothing?

And they said I should explain things because since I wasn’t commenting on anything they said on the post, I was “adding fuel to the fire” (that exact quote). I didn’t have time to explain things at the moment, but I do now and I will answer bit by bit. I will do this just to avoid possible misunderstandings.

I want to clarify that I don’t feel comfortable getting involved in things that I’ve never been involved in— and if I receive more messages about the drama itself, those messages will be deleted. I feel kind of bad about this since people have only been coming to my ask box asking thing about it confuses, or seeking comfort from the moment, but like we’ve been saying, it’s better to drop things already, and focus on the good things inside the fandom.

The answer to the post is below the cut. It’s going to be long, sorry, but I prefer to clear any misunderstandings. And I will highlight something extremely important down below, besides apologising deeply for any misunderstanding. And this is the last time I will be talking about it

“there’s no issue with this, but she claims to be neutral and is currently explaining/advocating on the situation whilst adopting this stance.” I am neutral on the situation. I will eternally remain neutral because as we’ve seen, neither side is good.

As I’ve said before, Cal had little to do with all of this huge mess. From what I learned today, she already clarified and apologised about the situation. Cal was dragged through the mud by both of the groups out of nowhere, and she also fell for their shit so she was fooled by them just like lots of other people— she told me herself.

“This is bullshit, there’s no transparency” huh? what does that even mean,, I just… Literally don’t have any involvement at all? What can I say or do about it? Both groups of people were already on my blocklist since last year lmao.

“She has connection to the drama purely through this even as she apparently didn’t participate — allegedly.” I’m sorry but the allegedly part is killing me too. I wasn’t even on their Discord groups, nor talked to any of the people involved, explain why the word ‘allegedly’ was even added?

also, how the hell am I supposed to be connected to the drama if, as you said, I didn’t even participate in it, only because I’m mutuals with someone who was named in it? What kind of sense does that make?

As I stated above, I am, and always have been a neutral onlooker about the situation, who explained the situation to the confused people, even posting the links with the full info and proof to not spread incorrect information accidentally.

“Does @bucknastysbabe even know or care you’re slamming her on main and then love bombing her the next?” Cal knows about all your post, and all my answers to each ask regarding the situation.

She knows I hadn’t seen her apology/clarifying video until today. She even cheered me up when I had an anxiety attack after this person made this post, only to then delete it and deactivate the account. So, yes, she knows pretty much everything and she knows it was a mere mistake of mine.

Then, the person posted this. I will show the screenshots of what they said, and what answered ask they were referring to using their own SS.

(sorry if the screenshot pics are switched of their right places) I had no idea that was a direct quote from Cal’s apology video, because I OBVIOUSLY HADN’T SEEN IT. I don’t know how else to stress this, but I’m not chronically online, and neither I see everything my mutuals post.

Either way, I literally re-read my own response to check what I had answered, and this was terribly misunderstood. The only response I had about Cal’s statement was “why am I not surprised?”, and in the rest of my response, I tried to be as neutral as possible— in the rest of my response, I was referring to the general situation of the drama, and in fact I was mostly referring to the things Bel, Fae, Em and Ange said + did.

But nothing else, thats it, because I wanted to speak about the situation in general and I was referring to the group of people— I didn’t name names and neither I referenced Cal’s statement any further. I deeply apologise for the misunderstanding, but sometimes I explain myself awfully mostly because English isn’t my native language.

if this was considered with any possible ill intention at all, I offer once again my most sincere apologies. I never had any bad intention, and the only thing I’ve been doing was answer the asks of the people who came to my ask box inquiring about what had happened, try to offer comfort to those who felt disappointed and heartbroken, and in general just try to provide as much positivity as I could amidst the terrible situation.

Some believe I was trying to gain attention from the situation, and that I was stroking the flames of the drama. I at no cost even thought of ‘getting attention’ from it, or that I was actually getting attention, I simply answered the messages I was receiving to interact with my own followers— I mean, it didn’t feel good to leave them hanging.

I do have to take responsibility that perhaps my actions continued to keep the drama up, but again, I never had this intention, and I’m terribly sorry if that’s what my answers and interactions caused.

Please I do hope you guys understand my point of view, and that I never intended for any of this to be understood in the wrong manner. I have to admit that despite all the lovely people and fun moments I had/have in the fandom, it’s also responsible for worsening my condition the 90% of the times due to the unnecessary drama, and this situation today made me feel extremely bad physically as it automatically involved me in a situation I didn’t want to be involved in, nor have anything to do with it.

And that’s why, from now on, I won’t be answering any message related to the drama anymore to not keep mentioning the things that happened. As I said all the way above, we should currently be focusing only on the good, positive things of the fandom— and hopefully, we will all learn to not be rude or gossip about other people over mere fandoms, or fanfanfiction.

Then again, thank you for reading and understanding. If I expressed myself wrongly anywhere in here, please feel free to ask me about it and I will glady re-explain it. I hope this can clear everything, and please, I don’t want to be involved any further in anything.

[kanerallels]

For @chenford-prompts 2 Weeks of Chenford, prompt: Injured.

This is set sometime mid season four, and is obviously not canon compliant. It's also technically a deleted scene from a fic I'm posting later this week, but doesn't have any real spoilers. Oh, and it was inspired by a piece of art by @accidental-spice, that I will link here when it's posted!

(TW for hospitals and injury)

Tim felt like he spent a lot of time in hospitals for someone who wasn’t a doctor. Sure, it was bound to be a part of his job— hazard of being a cop was you got hurt. A lot. And he was fine with that.

It was when it was someone else who got hurt on his watch that things were different.

He glanced at the bed he was sitting next to, and his heart twisted in his chest at the sight of Lucy Chen, pale and motionless, hooked up to a heart monitor. He hated seeing her like this. It was unnatural for her to be anything less than bright and energetic and full of life.

She’d been shot on patrol. A shooter had gone after him, and she’d tackled him just in time. Just in time for him to be safe, and for her to be hit herself.

Tim could still feel the panic swelling in his chest at the sight of the blood welling through her shirt as he clung to her, begging her to stay with him. She’d been unconscious by the time the ambulance reached them.

But somehow, miraculously, she was alive. The surgery had been fine, and she was supposed to wake up by the next day. The others had been in to visit her— Jackson for a brief stint, Lopez and Wesley right behind him with Thorsen. Genny had been one of the more recent visitors, carrying a bag with his things, and had walked out again with Nolan. He’d stayed longer than almost any of the others— besides Tamara, who had been right there with him for hours, until the Greys insisted on driving her to their house, where she would stay the night.

Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in hours, and he didn’t intend to. Clasping his hands, he bowed his head, emotions swirling in his chest.

She’d taken a bullet for him. And that had landed her in the hospital. I failed. Again. I couldn’t keep her safe.

“Neck deep in the guilt spiral already?”

Tim’s head snapped up at the sound of Harper’s voice. Handing him a disposable cup, she said, “I thought I’d bring better coffee than what they sell here.”

“Thanks,” Tim muttered, taking a sip. 

He could feel her studying him, and elected to ignore it. Finally, she said, “It wasn’t your fault. Lucy knew what she was doing.”

“She was jumping in front of a bullet meant for me. If I hadn’t—”

“No,” Nyla said flatly. “Don’t try and take the credit for it. Lucy made the choice to protect you, and she wouldn’t want you to be worrying about it like this. Don’t make it about you.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Tim said. “I just— she shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have made the same choice any other cop would have made? Shouldn’t have protected someone she cares about?” Nyla snorted. “Sure. When she wakes up, I’d love to see you sell her on that.”

She turned towards the door, then paused, looking at him. “Accept the fact that she got hurt helping you, and then move on. Wallowing in it isn’t going to help anyone. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tim said, looking back at Lucy. Like it or not, he knew she would have said the same thing.

That didn’t mean he was going anywhere, though. Sliding his chair a little closer, he took her hand, lacing his fingers around hers. He felt Harper watching them for a minute, then she turned and left, leaving them alone together.

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

Hunger

I posted this a bit ago, but I think I accidentally deleted it while cleaning up my blog. So I edited it a bit and thought I should post it again. I think it's a neat look at Majexatli and the fact they're a Malarite.

CW: Hunting, Violence, Everything you'd imagine would come with worship of Malar (a Chaotic Evil deity of hunting, bloodlust, bestial violence)

//

Majexatli wondered, sometimes, what drew them to the hunt. 

It wasn’t something they took the time to consider before the Nautiloid, when they prowled the Sword Coast in wildshape. Back then they rationalized it; it was much easier to hunt and eat in wildshape than to gather ingredients and make camp and cook something. Having most of their meals be bloody and raw made the ones they had outside of wildshape that much more special.

Now, though? They spent their days as a person, every night there was a camp with plenty of rations, there was wine and cooked meats and soups and bread enough for everyone. There were traders who could sell them any array of foods, there were greens and mushrooms a plenty along the road, abandoned campsites and kitchens with all sorts of meats and produce. 

Majexatli didn’t need to hunt, every night they could curl up by a fire with a full belly.

So what drew them to the hunt? Why did they still feel a hunger clawing at them? A restlessness in their own skin? 

Sometimes at night, Majexatli watched Astarion hunt while prowling in the shadows and lurking in trees. He was effective enough but clumsy. As much as he has grown better at stealth, at ambushing enemies with his bow or dagger, he was different when he had just his teeth, when his mind was preoccupied with hunger. It was quick and inelegant, never drawn out, he picked whatever animal he could find, it didn’t matter what it was so long as they had blood. 

It seemed wasteful.

Sometimes Majexatli entertained the thought of teaching him how to hunt properly, the art of drawing it out. Maybe they could have him hunt them, make him prove himself before spilling their blood. Never were his eyes more present and alive than when their blood was on his tongue.

They could teach him the rules of the hunt.

They shouldn’t, they knew, shouldn’t drag him down with them. They were supposed to be the kind and wise druid coaxing him back from the edge, rather than echoing the dark whispers in their mind and showing him the shards of divinity that could be in everything if you tore into the flesh enough, how if you swallowed holiness bloodied and raw enough it could fix you from the inside.

But Astarion was a vampire, undead, he needed blood to live. He had a reason for his bloodshed, he would starve without it. What reason did Majexatli have? 

If their hunt was just a supplication, a prayer, an offering, then why did they hunger? 

Was devotion making them a monster, or was their piety a justification for the monster they already were?

If they weren’t a monster, if they were truly good, then Majexatli would have been at camp, basking in the victory of the Shadow Curse being lifted, finding what pleasure could be found in the brief moments before they chased the Elder Brain to Baldur’s Gate. 

Kethric Thorm was dead, the Nightsong freed, Thaniel made whole again, Gale alive, Wyll would be free of his contract soon, Jaheira and Minthara had joined their camp. There was a veritable feast around the campfire, endless companionship, if they wanted they could be pulling someone away to somewhere private and chasing whatever pleasure they could.

Instead, they were in the forest, hidden in the shadows, following a trail of blood through the trees, the buzzing euphoria of the hunt dulling the hunger that had dug its claws into them. 

Slaying the young is forbidden.

The brown bear in their sights was full-grown, only slightly larger than Majexatli’s current form, the Dire Wolf they hadn’t let out since the gnolls on the Risen Road. In any other form, it would have been stupid, reckless to take on a bear. It might still be, but they wanted a challenge, wanted to impress. 

A bear claw was one of Malar’s holy symbols.

Make your kills long and bloody.

They jumped from the shadows, snapping at the bear’s hind leg, making sure to bite and tear its flesh enough for the bear's blood to spill on the grass below. They let the bear get a swipe on them, feigned a pained yelp as it spilled their blood in turn, ran off into the trees as though afraid and wounded.

Oh, Majexatli was disappointed when the bear didn’t follow, when it didn’t try to hunt them down in turn, but they could adapt. 

Keeping to the shadows, every so often they purposefully stepped on a twig, just to watch the bear stop in tense silence, sniff the air. In that tense silence, they would dash out, pounce and bite and then run off again before the bear could truly react.

Taste the blood of those you slay and never kill from a distance.

Majexatli shouldn’t have enjoyed it, they knew, but the only thought in their mind was blood. With every snap of their teeth, they relished in the sharp, warm rush of blood in their mouth, as they stalked they lapped at their muzzle and the blood soaking their fur. The promise of more blood, of tearing open flesh, of devouring raw and bloody viscera was intoxicating.

They followed the trail of blood through the trees, stalking, tracking, thrilling at the adrenaline in their veins that kept them warm and warded off the cold breeze. Majexatli let the blood lead them to the edge of a clearing, down to the river’s edge.

The bear was wounded, patches of its fur stained red and glistening in the moonlight. The wounds weren’t grave, bites and claw marks purposefully shallow, just enough to bleed, to distract it, to wear it down. There in the open, there were no twigs or dried foliage to alert the bear to their presence as it licked its wounds on the river bank. 

Crouching in the grass, Majexatli almost felt at home, they could almost forget about the Elder Brain and the Nautiloid. 

They let out a growl as they lunged, managing to knock the bear over as their jaw clamped down on the juncture of its neck, heart jumping and blood singing as they held it there, felt the bear thrash beneath them claws swiping at them blindly, weakly.

And then Majexatli’s blood turned to ice as they felt the fur beneath their teeth fade, muscles reshape and suddenly their teeth were sinking into a person’s flesh, so much more fragile, so easy for the flesh to give. 

The rush of blood in their mouth filled them with terror. They should have released immediately, should have let go of the shoulder as soon as they felt the change, as soon as they heard a cry of pain in a voice so familiar. They should have relaxed their jaw—but why? Did they want to let go and drop wildshape? Or did they want to let go so they could adjust their bite, shift their teeth from shoulder to neck, find the jugular and sink their teeth in—

A strong hand found the scruff of their neck somehow, even as now this form dwarfed the man beneath them. Blunt fingers dug into their fur, into the flesh and muscle there, more gentle than he had any right to be.

“Majexatli,” 

They could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath their teeth, Halsin’s voice slightly strained, yet firm and with none of the hatred Majexatli deserved.

Majexatli’s jaw relaxed, teeth pulling out of flesh and they knew blood was spilling from the wounds. They hadn’t felt any bones snap beneath their teeth, yet their mind raced with images of what they would see when they pulled away, visions of Halsin with his throat torn open, bleeding out before they could do anything. 

A memory surfaced, unbidden, so visceral even 20 years later, how quickly they had bled out, how they had spent those few seconds begging for Silvanus to save them, calling up every prayer they had memorized, every supplication and offering they had given. They had spent every breath striving for the balance Silvanus wanted and he had simply watched their lungs be torn from their chest, as if their slaughter was simply an accepted collateral in his divine plan. 

“Majexatli,”

There was a hand on their face, and it took everything in Majexatli not to snarl and snap at the gentleness.

They couldn’t bring themselves to meet his eyes, instead staring at his shoulder, the tears in his tunic, the bloodstains, the bite marks still lazily oozing blood. He must have cast something, a healing spell to stem the worst of the bleeding and coax the shallowest wounds closed.

“It’s nothing serious,” His voice was so genuine, “I’ve had much worse, it’s alright. We’ve all had moments where we lose ourselves to the beast,”

Halsin let out a slight laugh, but Majexatli could hear a slight pain, the way it was slightly forced, as though he was trying and failing to ignore the Dire Wolf that stood over him. He knew, he had to know that Majexatli could snap his neck with their teeth, that his blood lingered in their mouth. Majexatli wanted to be horrified, disgusted, and they were, but they also wanted to lick their lips and savor the taste.

“Are you alright?”

They finally met his eyes and recoiled, from the concern in his face, from the cautious but naïve trust. He should be running or shifting back to a bear that could snap them in half, they would deserve it.

Majexatli had the upper hand, though, they still had their teeth and claws and as much as the thought of Halsin’s blood on their tongue sickened them, as much as they wanted it to taste foul, the taste was divine. It always was.

They could taste more of it. All they had to do was bite again, all they had to do was let go. Their quarry was beneath them, unarmed, unarmored, the end of the hunt, of their hunger was within reach.

Suffer no druid to live, for they believe not in survival of the strong, but in a weak-minded balance.

Majexatli ran. 

Darting off into the trees, they ignored Halsin’s voice calling after them, blindly zigzagging through the forest as if they were trying to shake someone off their tail. But the beast they were trying to outrun was the one wearing their skin.

They crashed out of wildshape, into the dirt hard enough to skin their knees, their palms, though they could hardly tell their own blood apart from Halsin’s. Curled up on the ground there, they watched as the moonlight filtering through the trees slowly faded and was replaced by sunrise.

If your prey escapes, they have earned their freedom and whatever boon seems fit.

Majexatli didn’t know if there was anything they could give that would make up for what they did. But they weren’t sure if Halsin was the prey or if they were.

[starsarefire824]

We're Friends, We're Friends...

*I accidentally deleted this post while editing so please reblog if you feel like it. 😭

Chapter 10 of A Certain Slant of Light

Mike pushes the basement door open to find the upstairs of his house eerily quiet. As he pads down the hall and passes the living room he spots his Dad snoring in his chair already with the TV flashing blue light in his face. Holly is curled up in his lap and Mike's Mom is laying on her side on the opposite couch, wine glass resting full next to her on the end table. Her eyelids are heavy as she tries not to dose, and she’s holding out the clicker in the air surfing through the channels. 

“Hey honey,” she says, clearing the sleep from her throat, suddenly more awake when she observes him. 

“Hey,” he says lightly, pausing in the archway. “Have you seen Will?” 

She sits up on her elbow and squints at him. “I think he’s in the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” he replies, turning around before she can ask him any more questions.

Mike treads heavily into the kitchen, eyes frantically scanning the room for Will. He is nowhere. The pizza box is on the counter and their trash is thrown away. 

“Will?” he says to the room. No one. 

Maybe he’s still in the bathroom.

“Will?” he calls again up the stairwell to the second floor before pulling hard on the banister and climbing the stairs two at a time. There’s still no answer and Mike sighs heavily.

It’s warmer upstairs. Nancy’s door is shut and he can hear the low bass line of whatever pop song she’s listening to. 

“Will?” he calls again. 

His room is dark. There’s definitely no one in there. He notices the hall bath door is cracked, and soft light from a nightlight his Mom had kept since he was little is glowing onto the worn tan carpet. 

He gently pushes the door open, eyes shooting towards the burgundy tile and hoping he isn’t interrupting something he shouldn’t. When the door fully opens he finds Will in the dark leaning against the porcelain sink, water running, and head bowed against his chest. His hands are gripping the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles are white and Mike thinks that maybe Will might be sick. 

When he shoves into the room, Will startles, staring up at him with wide eyes and pulling his arms protectively over his middle. 

Mike freezes. “Hey,” he says awkwardly. 

Will’s gaze focuses on an invisible object in the corner of the room. “Hey,” he responds quietly. 

Mike tries not to shudder with how uncomfortable he feels. His cheeks relentlessly burn. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

Will shifts on his feet. “Yeah. I’m—I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Mike shakes his head, confused by Will’s defensive tone. “Did I do something?” 

“No, no!” Will blurts out, hands shooting towards Mike’s chest as if he wants to comfort him, but then thinking better of it, he instead hangs his fingers heavily on his belt loop, shifting back on his heels. “I’m fine— really. I just… needed a minute.” 

The hair on the back of Mike’s neck stands on end, and his first thought is that he has missed something, that something’s terribly, terribly wrong.  “Is it Vecna ?” he asks worriedly, stepping forward. 

Will’s brows go together harshly and he somehow looks…. disappointed ? 

“No— no ,” he replies, shaking his head and raising his hands higher, defensive, suddenly almost seeming annoyed. “I’m fine. Really.” 

Mike approaches him cautiously. “Will- you are not fine. And you haven’t been for a while. I mean—sometimes I feel like—” He huffs, frustrated and feeling more hurt by the second. “---like we aren’t even friends anymore.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Will asks him, voice breaking. 

Mike’s heart is racing now and it feels as if his chest is on fire. Will backs away from him further, pushing his spine against the tiled wall where the window is. He presses his palms against the tile, as if to ground his body, and Mike imagines the rabbit again, eyes frantically looking for an escape it will never find. 

“I mean—I mean…” Mike stumbles, “I thought we were a team. You said we could be a team again.” 

“Yeah, and I meant it,” Will tells him adamantly, his voice raising an octave and fingers fiddling with Karen’s old shower curtain. 

“Well, I don’t know,” Mike urges persistently, unrelenting in letting this conversation go. “Sometimes it feels like you would rather not even be in the same room with me. Sometimes it feels like just the thought of you being around me… repulses you, or makes you upset.” 

“That’s- that’s not—” Will stutters, dropping his hand from the curtain and finally regarding Mike directly. His eyes are dark in the low orange light, more brown than green now, and very grave. One side of his face is soaked in dark shadows. It highlights the way his features have sharpened over the last year, and beautiful seems to be only word that comes to Mike’s mind.

Beautiful? What the hell is wrong with him?

Will swallows roughly and his voice is coarse as he shakes his head at him. “That’s just not true , Mike.” 

Mike almost wants to scoff at Will throwing his own words from California back at him. Will never lies to him. But Mike knows from El that he’s lied about the painting. It seems like they’ve been drowning in lies since the summer before he left for Lenora.So many lies. 

He sucks in a breath, closing the distance between them, and swallowing down the scared look on Will’s face. He can’t escape, and Mike hates the fear and desperation in Will’s eyes. It makes his stomach turn. He hates how Will still can’t even stand to be in the same room as him anymore. What has happened to their friendship? How has it become something Mike can’t even recognize? 

“You're lying” Mike professes, as he stares down hard at Will and holds his breath against the sob that threatens to escape. There’s a long pause and then he rests his palm along the cool tile behind Will’s head. Mike inches his face closer, keeping Will’s gaze on him, desperately scanning his face for something resembling truth.

"No,” Will swallows and shakes his head, his eyes shaded evergreen and determined. “You’re wrong.”

Mike’s eyes trace along Will’s jaw, down to the smooth muscles of his neck. They follow the constellation of moles there, watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down nervously, and his teeth drag over his full bottom lip, leaving a glistening trail of spit Mike wishes he could thumb away. It is as if he’s on fire, as if there’s an electric current inside Will that radiates from the surface of his skin, enveloping him completely.

It feels like nothing he’s experienced before, even with El in her bed on sunny afternoons, and he wants so badly to reach out and touch him; slide his fingers along the ridge line of his jaw, watch Will sigh into his skin, feeling his breath on the inside of his wrist. He wants to roam his hands over other places, places below his belt and off limits, places that the mere thought of makes his cheeks burn in shame. Mike wants to wrap his arms around him and whisper that lies were never necessary, tell him that there’s nothing that could ever make Mike not want him around. That he will always be his best friend.

Will lifts his chin to where Mike’s hand hovers indecisively between them, defiant in his confidence, and Mike feels as if he’s daring him to do something.

Their foreheads are almost pressed together, but instead of touching Will, Mike grips the edge of the windowsill with all his strength. He shifts forward, and the front of their bodies meet. The connection makes him purse his lips in anticipation, and he places his foot in between Will's legs to steady himself. The sensation of his knee brushing the soft padding of the inside of Will’s thigh shoots that, now familiar shock, through Mike’s body. It pools low in his pelvis with an excruciatingly dull pulse. Will stiffens against the wall and sighs out, and Mike feels Will’s fingers at the back of his hip, balling the edge of Mike’s t-shirt in his fist.

The fire shoots up Mike’s side again where Will touches him and before Mike can stop himself he closes the distance left between them, his hips connecting roughly with Will’s as he thrusts forward, his chin coming to rest in the crook of his neck. Will’s skin is smooth and hot and he smells earthy, like a forest after a rainstorm. A small sound, fractured and vulnerable, and like nothing Mike’s ever heard come out of Will echoes into the bathroom, and Mike can’t focus his thoughts on anything; anything except for the way Will smells like rain, or how the water left running can’t drown out how he sighs against his cheek. He can’t focus on anything but the way Will’s ribs feel beneath his fingers and how Will claws at his back; how his vision whites out at the sensation of Will's hips aligning perfectly with his. Mike can't focus on anything but how it feels as if some veil has been lifted from his eyes.This is how it's supposed to feel. How had I never known?

  Suddenly, Mike feels Will’s palm at his chest, unexpectedly strong and shoving him away.

“No,” he sighs quietly. Mike falls back against the edge of the sink, grasping onto the icy porcelain for dear life and humiliation creeping up his neck. 

“No, Mike.” Will says again, his voice now more sure and determined. Fierce. He glares at him, his eyes dark and resolute, but his voice cracks violently around his words. “You are the liar.”

Mike ? 

Mike recognizes Nancy’s voice, and the rhythm of how her feet pad down the hall. He turns his head and sees the light from the hallway turn on, shining brightly through the crack in the door. 

Mike ? Are you okay? —--I thought I heard–

Terror shoots up Mike’s spine and he can’t move, frozen and clinging to the sink. Will's body is still pushed up against the tile wall, arms drawn around himself and staring at the floor. His brow is deeply creased in what Mike thinks looks like something akin to terror. He notices Will’s hand trying to grasp for his belt loop is shaking. He notices it and hides it from Mike's view.

Will then regards Mike directly, and Mike squirms under his scrutiny. His chest rises and falls with heaving breaths, tear filled eyes turning black with anger and a hurt that makes Mike want to die. It's then that Mike realizes that he’s ruined everything. He’s misunderstood Will completely. His stupid feelings and disgusting urges have now ruined their friendship for good. Will must hate him. He wouldn’t blame him if he never wants to speak to him again. And now he knows.

Nancy opens the door and flicks the bathroom light on, drenching them in harsh light. Mike flinches, a terror as frightening as the Upside Down shuddering through him. Will pushes himself off the wall, squints against the brightness and stands up straight, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. 

“Oh,” Nance says, surprised. “Sorry- I- I didn’t know you were here Will.” She pauses a moment as she regards them. “Is everything okay?” 

Mike feels Will stare at him, his gaze searing Mike’s skin like a brand. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge him and studies the white tile on the floor instead. 

“Yeah,” Will tells her, sucking in a deep breath. “We’re fine.” Mike winces at the way he tries to hide the emotion in his voice. It breaks over him like a wave and before he can say anything, before he can beg him to wait, Will shoves past him, dodging Nancy, and bolting into the hallway. Mike hears his every footstep as he rushes down the stairwell. 

Nancy huffs behind him, and Mike sinks lower against the sink when he turns to look at her. 

“Mike?!” she demands, hands on her hips and blue eyes scalding him. “What is going on?” 

“Nothing!” he yells viciously, pushing past her roughly and retreating to his room. He slams the door before she can chase him and flops face down onto his pillow. The sobs come fast and hard and he hates himself more than he ever has before, unable to escape the scent of trees after a rainstorm, the lingering sensation of their bodies pressed together, and visions of green eyes calling him a liar.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

[troublerats]

Hey, I remember seeing your Flipside comic concepts on Reddit a few months ago. When I checked Reddit recently to see if there was anything new, I saw that the account you posted them on appeared to be deleted. I was really interested in following along the process. Is the comic still coming or has it been cancelled/on hiatus?

Okay so I’ve got this question a few times but I suppose it’s time I fully clarify what’s going on on Tumblr in a form I can repeatedly point to.

The comic IS still coming, but it is going through some major changes. For a variety of reasons, we have decided to de-fnaf the series and turn it into an original IP.

This is for a few emotional factors, like the abuse we’ve experienced and seen from the FNaF community and generally just hitting the point where we don’t want to deal with it when it comes to something we’ve put so much work and love in.

That and of course, the creative freedom and income we can get from making an original IP, that we already planned to work on for several years. We’re hoping to bring something new to the table

Though of course because of this, the comic is going through another phase of conceptualization. Which I will show off at the end of this thread.

-

As for why my Reddit account is gone, I deleted it since it had my old name, Treblebaps, and I could not change it so it caused to much pain. A bit of a warning here as I bring up transphobic harassment and being sent very triggering things.

As a bit of backstory, I was the first person to talk about Gwen Stacy being trans in ATSV, a post that was just meant for my friends and audience but absolutely blew the fuck up. Because of this I was harassed by transphobes for days, they sent me gore and cp, and terrorized my friends and went after my income by defacing it.

Their mass reporting resulted in me losing my account on Twitter, and ever since I just decided to rebrand because I couldn’t have the name “Treblebaps” as my @ on everything anymore. Maybe a bit dramatic, yes, but it bothered me nonetheless.

-

Going back to the Flipside, what you need to know is that the main story of Purpleside, now called Rubyside, has changed. But the story of Yellowside, now Goldenside, has all but stayed the same premise wise. I will now explain the premise of both stories to better explain the changes.

Rubyside

Edgar Adams-

the owner of a popular arcade, now slipping out of it’s golden age, accidentally murders his business partner, Oliver Walker, in a drunken spat. This act of violence, awakens a dormant entity, which begins to reach out to Edgar. Promising him various things and telling him secrets no living person knows.

Edgar follows its guidance and kills, experiments with living matter, and carves a gateway between this world and the world the entity came from, The Flipside. Held together by six arcade machines that encoded with both of their secrets.

After a pattern of tragedy Edgar disappears. Presumed dead, but continuing down his path as he repeatedly builds himself new identities, and faces, as he consumes an element known as Gold to try to keep his own face from falling off.

Following Edgar’s fall, Edgar’s two sons, discover a sliver of the secrets Edgar had kept from them. And while the younger Edgar Jr. goes down his own path,

the story from here primarily follows the older, David, as he hunts down all of the six arcade cabinets, which are now scattered in different locations across America with no signs to tell them apart.

However, his journey is made even harder on account that these arcade cabinets continually spawn twisted forms of life in many different horrific ways. Ranging from a mad race-car driving hairless cat that has split itself into endless fragmentations, a deep diving space game that causes people to drown in their sleep, a zombie shooter game that’s brought its main antagonist alive in a strange, eccentric, but annoyingly helpful way, and a boxing game that has strangely caused one of the animatronic animal characters in a pizzeria to spring to hungry life (as a little final nod to the original.)

Rubyside’s story follows David and several other characters amidst a story of living media, cults, body horror, and bloodshed.

As for Goldenside

The events of Rubyside never took place in this universe, Edgar never killed anybody, Finch never interfered. And many of the characters who died or became victims of the other worlds trauma, are able to happily live.

Namely Edgar Adams Jr. Or also known as Edwin, got to experience a vaguely normally childhood with his friends.

Edwin's friends being Lucy Smith

Eloise Baptiste

Tracy Walker

Teresa Chowdhury

Gabe Mitchel

Rodrick Woods

And Cody Fischer

These are our primary protagonists for Goldenside, and for the most part, they are happy.

However, consequences from Rubyside begin to leak through into this "good timeline" and bringing echos of events and creatures from the bloodier timeline into this one. On account of the Flipside being one dimension, while the worlds that exist, are many.

This is a constant threat the main characters face as they struggle to preserve their little slice of life lives, and live through events in one time, out of their control.

Though there are entities, that have other plans, that work tirelessly to mold this story into their own vision.

But mostly, Goldenside functions as a less dire reprieve from Rubysides often pessimistic and grim tone. It's more of a villain of the week, though doesn't shy away from drama.

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Overall, that's the rundown of what has been going on with the Flipside thus far. And how Rubyside differs from it's original retelling of the FNaF story.

There is a lot I can't say here, and a lot I am unable to show since there is a lot of concept art I am still having to work on, equally so a lot of stuff Riddles has yet to write. But I hope nonetheless this will still be something people are excited to follow.