#we are very angry at the time of writing this

[kxsagi]

haii this is my first time ever requesting so mb if i dont rly make sense😓😔

i was thinking about nagi and his baby face and i was like "omg what if bllk guys (nagi, kurona, bachira, + whoever else looks like (๑>◡<๑)) with baby faces get mad" like they're trying to act intimidating because they're jealous or something but they look too cute to be scary😭💞

sorry if this isnt well put together, im half awake and english isnt my mother's tongue😔 also i love your writing its the only thing keeping me sane during school finals😭 ３９！（＾v＾）

“𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬”

a/n: noo you're all good and thank you so much!!! i apologize if kurona is ooc, i read the manga, but i feel like he didn't get enough screen time for me to understand his character

ft. nagi seishiro, kurona ranze, bachira meguru, niko ikki, ness alexis

nagi seishiro

nagi is not a fan of effort, but jealousy makes him clock in overtime. 

you were just helping reo adjust his necklace (it was twisted!!), and nagi saw the whole thing from the couch. 

cue the slow-motion zoom-in on his face, narrowed eyes, pout intensifying by the second. 

when you come over to him, he’s glaring at his phone screen like it committed a crime. 

"so... you like touching other people now?" 

he says that while slouched on the couch like a literal mochi. 

his cheeks are slightly puffed, voice is flat, and his hair is very tragically curled into a heart shape. 

you try to hold in your laughter but it’s hard when your boyfriend looks like an angry pompompurin plushie. 

he wants to grab your chin and tilt your face away like he's seen in drama shows, but ends up booping your nose on accident. 

"ugh. whatever. don’t look at other people. that’s annoying." 

you kiss his forehead. he malfunctions. the rage dissolves. now he's sleepy again. 

he falls asleep mid-jealousy and holds your wrist like a baby sloth just to make sure you don't escape again. 

kurona ranze

this man has the softest eyes and the calmest face 99% of the time. but the 1% he gets jealous? 

he looks like an upset cartoon bunny trying to file a complaint. 

you were chatting with isagi (how dare thee), and kurona just slowly glides into frame like a suspicious NPC. 

"wow. long conversation. is it that funny?" 

he blinks rapidly and his mouth does that little twitch like he's trying to stop himself from pouting. 

tries to cross his arms intimidatingly. fails because he forgets he’s holding your water bottle. 

mutters stuff like “tch. stupid. go marry him then.” 

even when he’s trying to glare, his eyelashes are fluttering too much to be menacing. 

you poke his cheek and it jiggles. now he’s even more upset. 

eventually sulks by pretending to be busy on his phone, but he’s just opening the calculator and typing in angry math. 

you kiss his cheek and he looks away dramatically but his ears go RED. 

baby-faced rage: 0, love: 1. 

bachira meguru

oh he gets so dramatic. 

you're talking to a male fan after a match, just thanking them for their support, and bachira is vibrating in place from across the field. 

he’s smiling, but it’s that “i’m about to throw hands with god himself” smile. 

literally starts skipping toward you in a way that should be threatening, but it just looks like a kindergarten musical number. 

“heyyy~ what’re we talking about~? 😁” 

tries to wedge himself between you two like a cat shoving its face between your phone and your face. 

when you scold him for interrupting, his eyes go all glassy like you kicked a baby deer. 

"oh. so now i’m third wheelin’? okay. cool cool cool." 

pulls hood over his head and does this fake pout where his lower lip sticks out like he’s trying to smuggle snacks in it. 

tries to storm off, trips on his own shoelace. now he’s angrier. you catch up to him laughing and he huffs like a gremlin. 

you give him a kiss and he instantly perks up like a little plant that got watered. 

jealousy? cured. but now he wants like 17 more kisses to “make it even.” 

niko ikki

niko is already cursed with a baby face and huge expressive eyes, so when he tries to look mad it’s immediately ineffective. 

you’re talking to someone from another team and niko’s standing behind you, clutching your jacket sleeve like you’re about to get kidnapped. 

his eyes are WIDE open, eyebrows pinched, lips pursed like he’s trying to hold in a scream. 

he's like "so. you’re just gonna ignore your boyfriend like that. okay. no no no it’s fine. i’m fine. i’m gonna go cry in the bathroom." 

he's not. he’s gonna stand there staring at the guy like he’s willing him to combust with baby psychic powers. 

attempts to cross his arms to look tough, but instead he looks like he’s hugging himself after getting scolded by a teacher. 

you kiss his nose and he gasps like he just witnessed a miracle. 

“... okay, but like. next time you can only talk to people with neck braces or something.” 

still kind of mad but now he’s just holding your hand super tight and kicking imaginary rocks around like a sad pokémon trainer. 

ness alexis

ness has that ethereal pretty-boy face but when he’s mad? he looks like a very offended disney side character (a villain’s assistant who’s been snubbed one too many times). 

sees you talking to someone (even if it’s just a waiter) and gets this tight-lipped smile like he’s being forced to watch someone steal his lunch. 

when you walk back, he greets you like: "back from your little affair? 😇" 

he is literally vibrating. fists clenched. lip trembling. looks like he's about to cry and flip a table at the same time. 

his voice goes higher when he’s mad which makes it worse. he says “i’m not mad” in a tone that sounds like he IS and also has marshmallows in his mouth. 

his bangs cover one eye and he flings them dramatically like he’s in a soap opera. 

“nessie bear, are you jealous?” 

"no. i’m just deeply betrayed, emotionally injured, and suffering in silence. there’s a difference." 

gives you the cold shoulder, but keeps turning back to look at you every three seconds. like a cat waiting for you to beg. 

melts the second you offer to feed him a grape. 

still mad, but now he's mad in your lap. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Thinking about Frank Castle being unable to stop running his mouth while he’s inside you… (MDNI)

His arms are bent at the elbow on either side of your head, caging you under his body as though you had anywhere else you’d rather be. Grunts escape his lips despite him, most of them against your lips as he tries to swallow your pitchy moans. He’s thrusting into you roughly, and quickly at that, knowing that’s how you like it. One of your legs is tightly wrapped around his back, heightening the experience for the both of you. There’s a pillow under your hips keeping them slightly elevated, making it easier for him to reach the deepest spots inside of you.

Unfortunately for the pillow, Frank had a long day, and his only cure for a long day happens to be making you cum as many times as he possibly can. He’s usually a man of very few words, but on nights like these the dam is irreversibly broken. He’s already brought you over the edge twice, once on just his tongue and again on merely two fingers. This is a usual occurrence, as Frank knows the game better than any other man can, but it happened quicker because he won’t. Stop. Talking.

Now especially, as he tries to add more slick to the inside of your thighs. He’s yet to cum, the incessant trembling of your pitiful legs almost enough satisfaction for him. “Cmon mama, cmon princess. Uh huh. Make a mess for me, you can do it. Let go, soak this dick. I know you want to, hell it only took you five minutes to make this mess on my face and hands. Yeah baby, that’s it—fuck— take it,” the words trickle out of him between grunts as his pace picks up. You whine and gasp beneath him, his words sending you into overdrive.

“Harder, Frank,” you gasp, the only words you can think of as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Harder? Jesus, baby. You can cum on just two fingers alone but by the time I got my dick in you, you want me to wreck you, huh? Just can’t get enough, filthy thing. Wanna get fucked like a whore, sure, I can do that. My whore. My sweet girl,” he rambles, ramming right into your favorite spot, one of his hands traveling down without you realizing it. Suddenly a loud smack fills the room as his palm comes down on your ass. It immediately brings pleasure filled tears to your eyes, the stimulation almost unbearable.

“You gonna cry for me? You poor thing. Can’t handle getting fucked like you want, can you? Maybe I should take it easy on you, huh?” he smirks, knowing that is the exact opposite of what you want, but slowing down nonetheless.

“Frank! No!” you protest, grinding into him.

“Tell me what you want, Princess. Come on,” he demands, biting the juncture of collarbone and neck, making you cry out his name.

“Fuck me like- fuck me- like a whore,” you stutter as he keeps leaving bites along your chest.

“That what you want? Yeah, alright. I can do that,” he grunts, resuming the pace from before. The tears freely fall now, not out of pain, but out of sheer, mind numbing pleasure. “Aww, shh, sweet thing. Just giving you what you want, baby. Cmon, make a mess for me,” he coaxes, kissing your tears away, bringing his hand down to rub on your very overstimulated clit. “Let me wreck you, cmon, come on this big dick.” You cry out his name, but he swallows it with his mouth, kissing you deeply.

It doesn’t take long before you come again, gasping for air and his name all at once. He rolls off of you to give you a moment, and once your breathing slows you realize—

He’s still rock hard, his cock red and angry against his abs as he lies next to you. “You thought we were done, sugar?” He asks, a slow, lazy smirk on his handsome face. You whimper, somehow getting wet again despite yourself. “Nah,” he continues. “We’re just getting started.”

A/N: Requests are open! I take the more depressed marvel characters (Bucky, Logan, Frank, Matt, etc.), anyone played by Jensen Ackles, and more. If you’re curious, just ask! :D

Also, comments are appreciated— writing is hard and I have a praise kink :3

[seumyo]

HIII before I get on with what I actually want to say, I just want to let you know that I have totally not been rereading your vtuber reader x idia fic an unhealthy amount of times and still giggle like a child everytime. Totally not. Nuh uh

Okay back to my actual point : could you.. Maybe.. If you don't mind.. Write a Riddle fic with a reader that's taller than him? And not by a little, no, but to the point where he his neck almost starts hurting because of how he has to look up at them (this is totally not because I've had this exact experience irl too many times)

Anyway I hope you have a great day or night or whenever you see this!! Also your writing is amazing, please don't explode :D

NOTE. */sprinkles a bit of romance (explodes after)

Riddle Rosehearts had long accepted that he wasn’t exactly... statuesque.

He wasn’t short, per se—not to himself, at least—but in a school filled with towering athletes, long-limbed mages, and students who somehow looked like they’d been sculpted for royal portraits, he had come to terms with being… on the lower end of the vertical spectrum. Gracefully. Mostly.

Definitely.

Still, it irked him when others pointed it out. Worse when they didn’t say anything but subtly looked down at him. Literally.

You didn’t do that. Not in any condescending way, at least. But you were tall. Not just tall. Tall. Tall enough that when Riddle stood before you to speak—formally, properly, as a dorm leader should—he had to tilt his head back so far that his neck muscles started protesting after just a few seconds.

It was the principle of the thing.

Eye contact was important.

It was respectful. Rude not to.

He wouldn’t be accused of being dismissive or childish just because his conversation partner happened to be built like an obelisk.

So when you two were discussing potion duty allocations near the greenhouse—under the very normal, non-awkward context of being co-supervisors for a mixed group of first-years for an enchanted botany class—Riddle stood as straight as he could, chin up, spine locked, arms folded behind his back.

“I understand that you prefer practical application to written evaluations,” he said crisply, “but these are still novices. If they can’t recite the theory behind a self-heating elixir, they certainly shouldn’t be trusted to brew one.”

“Fair,” you replied, soft as always. Your voice had that gently amused quality that made Riddle’s shoulders tense. Not because he was angry—he knew what anger felt like. This was… something else. “But don’t you think too much theory makes them hesitate? You know—freeze up with the pressure of it?”

“They should hesitate,” Riddle retorted. “It means they’re thinking. It means they respect the danger. Besides, isn’t it more dangerous to let them operate on half-guesses?”

You gave a hum, one that vibrated low in your throat. And it occurred to Riddle—not for the first time—that it wasn’t fair for someone to sound thoughtful and like they were barely holding back a laugh at the same time. It was like being fondly teased and philosophically challenged simultaneously.

He could feel the stretch in his neck becoming sharper. A warning twinge. Still, he didn’t drop his gaze. It would be undignified.

And then you knelt.

Right there, in the sun-warmed grass of the greenhouse lawn, you bent down on one knee, then both, until you were kneeling comfortably on your knees in front of him. Still tall even then, damn you.

Riddle blinked. “What on earth are you doing?”

You smiled, slow and easy. “Making it easier for you.”

He bristled. “I don’t need you to—”

“You were practically glaring up at me like I was a gargoyle,” you said, gently interrupting. “I figured I’d spare your poor neck before it filed a complaint with the rest of your bones.”

“I was not—!” Riddle began, voice going up half a register.

“You were.” Your eyes sparkled, almost teasing. “You always look so determined when we talk. It’s admirable. But it also makes me feel like a lamppost.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he huffed. “This is about principle. Proper posture. Maintaining decorum.”

You just watched him. No rebuttal. No smirk, no smug remark. Just that look—eyes slightly narrowed, a touch too soft, too earnest for Riddle’s comfort.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at you now. It should have felt like a reversal. A small victory. But somehow, standing over you while you gazed up at him like that—still somehow eye-level with his standing straight self… it made his stomach do that annoying fluttering thing again.

“What?” he said, tone sharp enough to cut parchment.

“Nothing,” you replied, which was a lie, because you kept looking at him with that ridiculous expression. One he only saw when careless students accidentally dropped love potions haphazardly.

“Just—this is nice. Seeing you like this.”

“Like what, exactly?”

“Like this,” you said, quieter now. “Eye to eye. Or close enough.”

“That’s not—” Riddle stopped, faltering. He felt his cheeks warm. He cleared his throat. “You’re being ridiculous.”

You didn’t argue. Riddle made a note that you rarely wanted to argue with him to the point where he could feel his anger bubbling over. It’s thoughtful of you, he thinks.

You tilted your head slightly, facial features catching the light—like some protagonist of a romance novel—and then you smiled. Not the playful one. Not the amused curve of lips you used when teasing. This one was warm. Honest. A little awestruck.

Even a little... loving, if Riddle dared think.

“You’re very easy to admire like this,” you said softly.

Riddle blinked.

The words struck harder than they should have. A rush of heat bloomed under his collar, all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked away, down toward the grass, then back again—unwilling to let you have the last word, unwilling to admit the effect you had on him.

“…You could’ve just sat on a bench,” he muttered, almost sulking.

“I could’ve,” you agreed. “But I’d rather be here. Like this.”

“Infuriating,” Riddle whispered under his breath.

But he didn’t tell you to stand back up.

Didn’t step away either.

Instead, he held your gaze. His neck, for once, not protesting. And you… you looked at him like he was something rare and brilliant. Like this moment mattered. Like he mattered.

And for once, Riddle let himself feel seen. Fully, gently, completely seen. Not as a dorm leader. Not as the boy who upheld rules with iron conviction. Just as himself.

“…Fine,” he said at last, voice a fraction softer than before. “But you’ll have to move if someone walks by. I won’t have rumors about us loitering in the grass like—like truant students.”

Your eyes gleamed with laughter. “Understood. So about the next herb they’ll be using...”

You didn’t move. Neither did he. And for a few long, heart-steadying moments, you managed to talk to Riddle like this—comfortable and close, like the space between two people no longer trying to measure distance.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[one-sunny]

Cabin by the Lake | Just You

10- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

The final chapter everyone 😭 i think it took so long to write bc my brain didn’t want it to be over. but here we are now

Sunday: Just You

Ace could feel his heart hammering in his chest, aware of his pulse thrumming. He was nervous. So very nervous to face you. Scared that you would slam the door in his face.

In spite of his nerves, he presses on. He needs to see you again. Hear your voice. You were so mad at him yesterday and it was driving him absolutely insane. Ace missed you, something that was terrifying in part, it seemed you had some kind of a hold over him. And worst of all? He didn’t mind it one bit.

His feet are heavy against the stairs, echoing through the stairwell, and only working to increase the rapid beat of his heart. Once he reaches your floor, by Luffy’s direction, he walks up to the door. Your apartment.

A shaky breath, hesitation, and Ace surges forwards to knock on the door before he can chicken out. Time seems to slow down as he waits. Then, the door suddenly cracks open.

“What?” The voice that barks is rough with age and entirely masculine. Ace’s eyes snap up to see an elderly man peering at him through a crack in the door. “I don’t want what you’re selling, boy.”

“I’m not-“

“What are you bothering me for?”

Ace swallows hard. You never mentioned living with your grandparents. “I’m looking for someone, she-“

“She? What business do you have with my wife? We have been married for over thirty years boy, you ain’t sleeping with her are you?” The door opens a little bit wider and the man’s frail frame comes into view. He had to be pushing his eighties.

“N-no sir.” Ace stutters out. He had been plagued by nerves until this very moment where confusion pushes through everything else.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m looking for a, uh, friend of mine.”

“If she’s your friend you should know that this ain’t her house. Now leave us alone!” The door is slammed in Ace’s face. Part of him wants to laugh- having a door slammed in his face was certainly not how he wanted the day to go, but he couldn’t be mad that it was by some angry geezer. Another part of him flares up in anger. Did Luffy even know what he was talking about?

Ace checks over the message, sighing loudly to see that he had knocked on the door Luffy told him to. Shaking his head, Ace hits call and waits rather impatiently for the line to connect. Moments later, Luffy answers and he can hear the beginnings of a greeting.

“Luffy!” Ace barks down the line, not giving his brother the chance for the words in his annoyance. “You gave me the wrong apartment.”

Luffy hums in thought, “No, i’m pretty sure that’s it.”

“Unless she turned into an eighty year old man over night, that was the wrong apartment.” He huffs out in frustration.

“Well maybe she did.” Luffy’s voice takes on a defensive tone and Ace doesn’t even need to see his face to know that he’s making that stupid pout. “It’s the one with the colorful doormat. Has like a lake and trees, it’s all orange. Some famous artist or something.”

Ace’s eyes scan his surroundings to find the thing three doors down from where he stood. “Found it.” With the muttered words, Ace hangs up the phone. He takes a moment to collect himself in the very short walk to your front door. Nervous energy consumes him as he moves to stand on that very same doormat that his brother described.

He hesitates for a moment, before lifting his hand and rapping his knuckles against the wood. Then he waits. And waits. And his frustration builds as he stands dumbly in the hallway.

Doubts and anxious thoughts fire off in his mind in the silence.

He knocks again and listens quietly. Nothing.

Then, he is calling his brother back again and speaking as soon as the line connects. “She didn’t answer.”

“She didn’t?” There is a surprised tone to his voice, but that gave Ace a little bit of relief. As air headed as his brother was, he was emotionally intelligent, especially when it came to his friends. Luffy must have been picking up on something with you to make him think you would answer the door. “Oh!” He finally pipes up, making Ace jump as if he forgot Luffy was on the phone. “She might still be at Nami’s, her and Robin stayed there last night.”

Ace pauses for a moment in disbelief, “And you didn’t think to tell me something like that?”

“My bad.” He can imagine the shrug that bounces Luffy’s shoulders.

“Great, thanks anyways.” Ace’s voice is snippy as he hangs up the phone. He wasn’t mad at Luffy- he could never be truly mad at his youngest brother- but Ace hated the situation he found himself in. If only he had just kissed you…

Ace sighs loudly and leans his back against your front door. He makes an attempt to craft a plan in his mind but everything is a muddied mess with the way his emotions run high. With a huff, he drops his head back against the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“Ace?”

His head snaps to attention and his eyes fall on you. Standing before him in an outfit that seemed to be quickly thrown together in a haste to leave Nami’s, and yet, he thought you never looked better. Then, he watches as your arms cross over your chest and a look of irritation flash over your face.

“Why are you here?”

Ace steps forwards, “I wanted a chance to explain.”

“To explain what.” You’re rolling your pretty eyes at him and his heart flutter in spite of himself.

“That,” He pauses, feeling breathless at your presence standing before him. “That I’m an idiot.”

A smile cracks on your face, but you quickly stamp it down. “Yeah, what about it?” Despite the irritated front you were attempting to uphold, your words were still teasing.

He takes another step closer, gauging your reaction. “And I got scared, ya know, of ruining the relationship you have with Luffy.” Your eyes flicker to the floor. “Until he told me I was being an idiot.”

You meet his eye once again, “Really?”

“Really.” He confirms. “I wanted to kiss you that night,” Ace is moving even closer now, heat buzzing over his skin at the proximity. At the comfort and familiarity of it. “That’s all i’ve been able to think about since then.”

A low sigh leaves you and you step around Ace, fiddling with your keys. But you don’t make the move to open the door and shut him out. “It really hurt.” You declare, back turned to him. “I thought that-“ As you turn around, your brow is pinched and a deep frown is on your face. “I tried to push you away and you wouldn’t let me. So I took that as a sign that,” You trail off, shaking your head. “And then i felt so stupid.”

“And I’m so sorry for making you feel like that.” Ace very hesitantly reaches out a hand towards you, gauging your reaction, before gently taking one of your hands. He feels your muscles tense for only a moment, soothing his thumb over your knuckles. “It was driving me crazy when you were trying to push me away-“

“I hadn’t noticed.” You scoff, a bashful smile falling on his lips.

“Yeah, well.” He mutters, squeezing your fingers. “I haven’t stopped regretting it since the moment I looked away. Haven’t stopped thinking about you. ‘Bout how pretty you looked. How bad I wanted to kiss you.” Fingers tip up your chin and Ace is looking back at you with a half-lidded expression. “I’m sorry for being so stupid, doll.”

You hum in thought, “I’m sure it will happen again.” There’s a teasing edge to your voice that pulls a smile to his face.

“Maybe,” Ace rolls his eyes. “But not like this. I never want to hurt you like that again.” Both hands now cup your face, cradling you like you are the most precious thing in the world. It pulls you in closer to him and you cant stop from reaching up to grab the opening of his flannel, squeezing the fabric in your hands.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Ace breathes, eyes flickering down to your lips. They part in anticipation. “Can we try this thing again?”

A grin pulls to your lips, “You gonna be mad if i turn my head?” But you’re pulling him closer by your grip on his shirt anyways.

“I’d be devastated.” Ace confesses.

Then, you’re meeting each other in the embrace that you had both been so desperately craving. Lips locking together, pulled to each other closer and closer. His hands leave your face in favor of grabbing your hips to pull flush against him.

Movements are slow as you pull in closer to each other. A certain level of desperation sparks in the air as all focus was thrust into the feeling of your lips on his. Of short, panted breaths as you remain entangled in the hall.

Neither of you can be sure how it happened, but your back leans against the apartment door as Ace cages you between himself and the cracked paint. The kiss is deep and a groan vibrates through Ace’s chest as your fingers card through his hair.

“Missed you.” Ace groans against your lips.

Your laugh is clipped and cut off by another kiss. “You just saw me.”

“Don’t care.” He kisses you again. “You were mad at me,” Another kiss that has your tongues meeting for only a brief moment. “So it felt like years.” Your laugh is once again cut off in a desperate attempt to feel your lips against his. There is no further attempt at conversation and you can’t be sure how long you stay there, right in the hallway of your apartment.

A fact that neither of you seem to realize, until a loud scoff fills the relative silence. You both pull back, still in a daze, to lock eyes with the elderly man down the hall. He levels his scowl on Ace and he has to turn his head to hold back his laughter. Then his wife steps out and her eyes fall on you. The pair wear matching masks of disgust and you have to hold back a laugh as they mutter about “kids these days”.

Silence lingers all the way until the elevator doors close the couple away from you. Then, Ace’s laugh echoes through the hall as his forehead drops against your chest. Your laugh vibrates through you as well, but it’s a mix of laughter from the looks thrown your way and utter joy of having Ace in your arms.

Finally, your eyes meet Ace’s, shining with adoration. “Do you wanna come in? Before any of my other neighbors catch us?”

“Yeah, but,” His head tips to the side in thought, squeezing you a little bit closer to him. “Then I want you to get ready, so I can take you out.”

“Oh? You asking me on a date, Portgas?”

He adopts a bashful smile, suddenly nervous, and offering you a nod.

“Then ask.” You grin at him.

A laugh breaks through his nerves, shaking his head at you. You were just so cute. “Okay, okay, fine.” Ace straightens to his full height, taking half a step back so that he can look you in the eyes, but with hands that hover over your hips. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Your lips purse, finger tapping your chin as you mockingly hum in thought, as if the answer wasn’t already obvious. Ace rolls his eyes at your little act. “Man, what did I get myself into.” He mutters dramatically, making you gasp and lightly slap his shoulder. “I’m kidding, i’m kidding.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes at him. “I would love to go on a date with you, Ace.” He grins at your words, pulling you into his arms and gently squeezing you against his chest. “Okay, okay. Let’s go inside before my neighbors file a complaint about PDA and kids these days.”

You step away from him and Ace wants to kick himself for how strongly he misses your touch as you fiddle with your keys. Once the door is open, Ace collects your bags and ignores any of your protests, gesturing you ahead of him. With a playful eye roll, you step ahead into your apartment with Ace following close behind.

He quickly drops your bag by the door, kicking it closed behind him, and moving to catch up to you. Ace catches your hand to twirl you around and pulls you close to him, “Sorry, just can’t help myself.” Then he is leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips and effectively melt you into a little puddle at his feet. His smile shines bright as he pulls back to look at you, “Okay.” Another kiss pecked on your lips. “Go get ready.”

But the order falls on deaf ears at the daze his lips have left you in. “I, uh,” You mutter in attempt to piece together a thought that wasn’t riddled with Ace. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Ace steps back with a mischievous grin. “Dress casual and, uh, take your time getting ready. ‘Kay?”

“Take my time?”

“Yeah, i’m serious.” He confirms, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I half expected you to slam the door in my face so, uh, just go real slow.”

“Yeah, okay.” You laugh as you trail off towards your bedroom, leaving Ace alone in your living room.

Nerves bubble up in your stomach as you begin getting ready for your date. Your date. With Ace. You have to remind yourself to slow down in your excitement to get ready.

When you are finished, you walk out of your room to see Ace leaning against your kitchen island, phone pressed to his ear. He seems to be rambling on about something, a worry line in his brow, until his eyes land on you. His words trail off after this and he mutters something down the line before hanging up. Ace straightens and a flush rises to his cheeks, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You can’t hold back the nervous laugh.

“You look really pretty.”

Heat fills your face, “It’s no different from the stuff you’ve already seen me in.” Your hands brush over your clothing that you are annoyingly aware of all of the sudden.

“I know, but,” His eyes flicker away. “I was too nervous to tell you how pretty you looked before.”

You clear your throat and walk a few steps closer. “So, uh, where are you taking me?” The change in topic seemed to be much needed for the both of you in your newly found nerves.

“Already told you, it’s a surprise.” Ace knocks his knuckles against the countertop. “Let’s head out, doll.” He offers a rather charming smile before gesturing you towards your own front door.

The ride to your mystery destination starts off with the quiet lull of music and light conversation as Ace practically vibrates with his mix of emotions. Though, at one point, he took your hand and some of those nerves seemed to dissipate. After that, it turned to something reminiscent of your drives out in the middle of nowhere, and calm seemed to settle about his car.

Soon, trees fill the sight of the window, perfectly green and picturesque. The local park was abuzz with families and couples milling about, but Ace drives even further in. Well past anything you have seen before.

He makes a turn into an area where the trees grow thicker and begins to slow down. Eventually, the tires roll to a stop and Ace throws you a nervous look. “We’re here.” His voice is breathy as if he had run all this way.

Unable to stop yourself, you lift a hand to his face and gently cup his cheek. “Let’s go.” Your thumb brushes over his cheek bone and his whole body seems to melt into your touch, a pink heat spreading over his face.

“Let’s go.” He echoes.

The two of you hop out of Ace’s car, the man stopping at the front to offer out his hand. You take it with a bright smile and Ace turns to lead you towards the clearing ahead of you. The greenery is near perfect, opening up for a space fit for two and a large picnic blanket nestled in there. With three men crowding the area and chattering rather loudly.

“Oh no.” Ace mutters, when there is suddenly a loud gasp.

“They’re here!” The voice is very distinctly Luffy’s attempt to whisper. Unfortunately, quiet is a foreign concept to Luffy, even as he attempts to shove his two blonde companions away from the picnic blanket.

“Gah, Luffy!” Sanji barks, scrambling to collect a plastic bag before he was tugged out of reach.

“They already see us, idiot!” Sabo attempts to argue to no avail. The three disappear from sight in a loud boom of conversation that completely contrasts any attempts of being subtle. That was your friends for you.

“Ah, sorry about that.” Ace pinches the bridge of his nose, gently squeezing your hand. “I thought they would be gone by now.”

A smile pulls to your lips, soft and full of affection. The effort he went through in recruiting the three to set up cute picnic for you sends butterflies erupting in your stomach. “It’s okay, Ace.”

His head snaps up at the gentle tone in your voice before he breaks out in a smile. “Let’s sit.” He guides you forwards to the picnic blanket to see the many items that were set up- an arrangement of plates, cups, blankets, and a wicker picnic basket.

Ace takes it upon himself to set out the spread, rambling on about whatever Sanji was able to whip up within the very limited time frame. And how Sabo had to track down one of Dadan’s old picnic blanket. And how Luffy managed to find the old basket Garp had from when they were kids. And above all, how nervous he was about the entire situation potentially not playing out how he wanted.

Settled in at his side, you gently take his chin and force his eyes to face you opposed to the plates he was setting out. “It’s all perfect, Ace.” You offer him a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for setting this up, really. I would have appreciated anything, but this is all perfect. You’re perfect.”

Ace makes a sound in the back of his throat before heat floods up his neck and burns the tips of his ears. “You have a way of makin’ a guy blush, huh doll?”

“Just you.” You grin, making Ace roll his eyes at you.

The nerves seem to disappear and conversation begins to flow easily. Everything seemed to be so easy with Ace. Gentle touches, the sharing of food, and bright smiles that carry through to the meals end.

After packing away plates and empty containers, Ace calls you to his side. The two of you fall easily into each other, as if it was the most natural thing, with your back to his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Ace presses a kiss to the side of your head and the two of you share giddy laughter until you’re eventually able to settle down in each others embrace.

“Ace?” You prompt, nails trailing up and down his arm.

He hums in response.

“Thanks for all of this.”

Ace’s chest vibrates in his laughter, surprised that you thanked him for something like this. For the absolute pleasure of taking you out on a date. “Of course, doll.”

“I was right, you know.”

“About what?” He shakes his head, chin ruffling against your hair with the movement.

“That day in the kitchen, you might not even remember.” You poke at his forearm. “But you’re a really great guy.”

“Wait, you remember that?”

“Of course I do!” You scoff in offense. “I know we had just met and all, but it was the first time that day that I really saw you.”

Ace is silent for a long moment, before he is pulling you in even closer. “Well, i’m glad you forgave me, so that I can be a good guy for you.”

“Just for me?” You laugh.

“Just you.” Ace brushes his fingertips up and down your arm, humming in contentment. His nose nuzzles into your hair and your eyes flutter shut as you relax back into his embrace.

Through all its faults, you were more than grateful for that cabin vacation.

Series Masterlist

tag list: @flooofity @certain-tragedies @zzzzzoey @stuckinmymind22 @kanekisheart @lxpofthegods @weirdothatreads @dailybrekker @spyderst4r @nejilost @thekatisspooky @narnian-neverlander

[colouredbyd]

Hey Dalia, just being honest — your marauders characterisation feels off. the boys come across way too soft and emotionally perfect, like they’re always coddling each other, especially in poly fics. canon james wouldn’t act like that with sirius — they were loud, chaotic, constantly teasing and pushing each other’s buttons. their dynamic had bite, not just fluff. softness is fine, but when there’s no messiness or edge, it stops feeling like them. it reads more like an idealized version and more OC than what they were..

i really appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts, and i want to respond thoughtfully and honestly in return. that being said, i have to admit your message threw me off a bit, and if i’m being completely transparent, it did upset me — not because criticism isn’t welcome, but because it touches on something fundamental that i think is often misunderstood about the marauders fandom as a whole.

let’s be clear: the entire marauders fandom is, by nature, fanon.

we were given a few scattered lines about these characters in the harry potter books — vague glimpses, anecdotal moments, biased memories told from the perspective of secondary characters who often didn’t know them intimately. there is no canon dialogue between james and regulus. there is no true depth to canon-era barty. even james and sirius, arguably the best-developed marauders, are still incredibly limited in how much we actually know about their real personalities, their inner worlds, their emotional depths.

so when people say “james wouldn’t act that way,” or “that version of sirius is too soft,” i have to pause.

based on what, exactly? a handful of chapters from a series that was never truly about them? a few biased memories viewed through harry’s grief-stricken lens?

everything we celebrate in the marauders fandom — whether it’s wolfstar, jegulus, poly!marauders, or any aus — is built on interpretation, on love, and yes, on imagination. and that’s not just acceptable, it’s the very spirit of transformative fandom.

as for softness, emotional intimacy, or affection between characters — that’s not a sign of poor characterization or lack of realism. it’s simply a different lens.

my interpretation of these boys leans into the emotional aftermath of war, of growing up too fast, of grief and loss and chosen family. that doesn’t mean i ignore the teasing or chaos or bite — in fact, a lot of my works incorporate it — but i also choose to explore the tenderness that canon never gave them space for. because honestly? they deserved that space, and so do readers who see themselves in that tenderness.

calling it “oc” because it deviates from your version of canon is, frankly, a misunderstanding of what fic is.

there is no singular “correct” marauders dynamic. there are thousands of versions of them across this fandom — messy, soft, angry, wild, reckless, healed, healing — all equally valid. some people want angst, others want fluff, others want realism, and some want escapism. all of it is beautiful, all of it belongs.

so no, i don’t believe there is one “true” james potter or sirius black. the james in my stories may be gentler in some moments, just as others write him more arrogant or wild. both are valid. both are fiction.

i completely understand that my style or my dynamics may not be for everyone — and that’s totally okay. you’re not required to enjoy every portrayal. but implying that emotional vulnerability makes a character “less canon” or less real is a narrow reading of both fanfic and character development. sometimes softness is survival. sometimes healing is loud laughter and quiet hands.

at the end of the day, we’re all just here to love these characters the best way we know how. i write the stories i needed growing up. i write the versions of these boys who carry their trauma, but still learn to love, and i’m proud of that.

wishing you well and all the best on your own fic journey,

[amethystfairy1]

Hi Amethyst!

Just to follow on from a few of your previous responses -

Hiya, one of your bookbinding followers, I maaay have gotten distracted designing title pages for each story, and I maaay now be a little stuck in exams, but I’ll send you pictures when I get to the actual binding? In the meantime, here are a few sketches of title pages???

Additionally, you recently deferred a question about fic recommendations to another member of your crew, but I was wondering if you had any book recommendations? I’m looking for some good books to fill my shelves (other than the eventual TTSBC one(s)!) but I love your writing so I assume I’d like your reads as well!

Thank you for your writing again, each and every piece is such a joy (or agony - but in a good way!) to read!

AHHHHHH These are so cool!?!?!?! I love them! That's absolutely awesome! So so so cool, all the title pages look amazing, thank you so much for sharing them! Please share more whenever you do them I'd absolutely love to see! As well as when you do eventually bind them!!!

Book reccs? Hmmm...sooooooo...you might have noticed from how I occasionally reblog stuff from it, but I'm a huge anime/manga nerd, and I love light novels? So like...some of my favorites series are 'Reincarnated as a Sword' 'Tensura' 'Saga of Tanya the Evil' 'Spice and Wolf' and such...I also love Sasaki to Miyano, both the manga, the light novel, and the spin off series Hirano to Kagiura. As for series with original manga, Wotakoi is one of my absolute favorites, the romances in that series are just sooooo good. I also love villainess and regression manhwa, my favorite of those is 'Beware the Villainess' and I also love 'Tomb Raider King' because it's hilarious.

I don't actually read very many just regular published works? My relationship to writing is really weird in that I started writing because of spite? XD When I was a kid I loved this specific book trilogy, and when the third one came out the ending SUCKED in my tiny little child opinion, like to the point I was in tears over it...I was quite young mind you...and my mom was like 'well, if you hate it so much, write a better ending.'

...and I did. I scribbled what I thought was a better ending in my little spiralbound notebook. Because I was angry. That's how I got into writing. And here we are. So weirdly enough while I'm sure my writing is heavily influenced by the books I've read, and I used to read A LOT MORE when I was younger, I...don't really read as much anymore? I just write. That's like...90% of my free time right there. So yeah! Sorry if thats not a great response! I'm so excited to see how the bookbinding goes!!! Thanks for reading!

[lunshimmer]

the long road

summary: ellie graduates from jackson's school, and repressed memories come to light.

❀ fandom: the last of us

warnings: ellie has ptsd, mentions of blood, vomit, panic attacks

❀ a/n: this was a heavy one lol i got a little carried away. in honor of graduation season. i also forgot about benji entirely and forgot to write him in!!!

❀ word count: 2,425

❀ divider by @firefly-graphics ❀

The day of graduation was a hot one.

Ellie sits on the back porch, hands occupied with reading The Hobbit and feet dipped in a bucket of water as a half-assed effort to cool off.

The council had been warning people to stay out of the sun and to cool off by any means necessary to prevent heat stroke. There was even talk of rescheduling the small graduation ceremony held to congratulate the teens in Jackson. Ellie was hoping the weather would be shitty enough by some divine intervention for it to be cancelled.

Ellie hated school. In the QZ, all orphans were immediately enrolled in military school-- FEDRA couldn't wait to get their hands on poor, parentless kids and mold them into soldiers that would inevitably perish in some horrific way or another. It was almost a guarantee.

The school system in Jackson was definitely better.

Instead of waking Ellie up at the ass-crack of dawn to start running laps, school in Jackson started at 10 am. No angry pounding on the door, no loud noises to scare the living shit out of anyone who heard them-- just an old alarm clock, set to play American Idiot by Green Day when the time came to start the day.

Ellie didn't miss military school.

The teasing from classmates was the same, though. At least in Jackson, you had someone's parents to bitch at when their kid did something wrong. In the QZ, two kids would just duke it out until someone admitted fault or was almost beaten to death. Ellie was still the scapegoat if something went wrong-- that hadn't changed.

Graduation wasn't really a thing they did in FEDRA school. It was more like, oh great, you survived until sixteen! Here's a gun and a helmet, good luck! In Jackson, if you passed your final exam and were at least seventeen years old, you graduated. The bar was low. Ellie didn't find it necessary to celebrate it at all.

"The hell are you doin'?" Joel's voice questions from the doorway, eyes squinted at Ellie's figure in a curious expression. His arms are crossed over his chest.

"Fuck's it look like?" She replies, placing the open book face down on her lap and gesturing to the bucket. The water's not cold anymore. "Trying to prevent heat stroke. Did you forget what they said?" She leans back in the chair, pulling her feet from the bucket. "Need to put you in a home, old man."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Wow. Ha-ha. Very funny. Are you gonna stop bein' a little shit and get ready to go, or not?"

Ellie notes that he's dressed nicer than usual: jeans without any holes or rips, a short sleeved flannel free of missing buttons and tattered edges. Oh, right. Stupid fucking graduation.

She lets out a dramatic sigh. "Do I really need to go?" Ellie dog-ears the edge of one of the book's pages and stuffs it under her arm. "No such thing as graduation in military school. It's dumb."

"Well, it's what we do here. C'mon, go make 'urself look presentable." He dismisses, walking back through the doorway. "Don't want you lookin' like no hobo."

"Thanks, Joel." She deadpans, trudging back to the shed to get dressed.

---

Dina is the first one to find Ellie when she arrives.

"This is fuckin' lame." Dina whispers, grabbing Ellie by the arm.

"I know." Ellie agrees, waving to Joel as he disappears into the crowd, no doubt to find Tommy.

The church-turned-meeting hall is decorated with a white banner that reads Congrats, grads! in black cursive writing. Ellie spots Jesse among the crowd and beckons him over.

"Hey," Jesse greets, slinging an arm around Dina. "I had a bet that you'd skip."

"Yeah, well," Ellie sighs, "Joel would've dragged me here kicking and screaming if he had to."

The two front rows of the church are empty, and Ellie figures that they're probably reserved for her and her classmates.

"Shit, I think it's starting." Dina says, dragging Jesse and Ellie to find seats in their designated row.

Mrs. Ambrose approaches the podium, smiling freakishly at the crowd and the graduates. A scowl appears on her face when she makes eye contact with Ellie.

"What a bitch." Ellie whispers to Dina.

Dina giggles. "Aww, I bet your bestie's gonna miss you."

Ellie scoffs. "Yeah right."

"Can we cease the talking, please?" The woman shrills, making it obvious that she's complaining about Ellie and Dina.

Ellie waves and Dina blows her a kiss.

Her face scrunches up in disgust. She clears her throat before speaking. "Welcome, graduates and family!"

Right after the introduction, Ellie starts to tune her out. She hears bits and pieces of the speech, something about twenty graduates and fulfilling lives and some other bullshit. What a fitting way to end her time in school.

When Mrs. Ambrose finishes speaking, she gestures for someone else to take the podium. It's some teacher that Ellie didn't know well enough to remember her name. Thank god.

The woman speaks about the long road ahead, life after graduation, and the troubles they'll face as adults. It's a much better speech than Mrs. Ambrose's, and Ellie finds herself actually listening to it.

It leaves a sunken sort of feeling in Ellie's chest.

She zones out for a second-- how in the hell could life get worse than it already was? Ellie had been orphaned at birth, and nearly died countless times. She's had to end other people's lives. How much worse could it get?

The world was dangerous. Life was dangerous. Ellie knew that.

She hoped it couldn't get any worse from here.

"... anyways, congratulations graduates! We are all so proud of you." The woman's voice and sounds of applause pulls Ellie from her thoughts.

Dina engulfs her in a hug, her arms wrapping naturally around Ellie's neck. Jesse pats her on the head.

Ellie attempts a smile, pulling away from Dina as her other classmates stand from their seats and make their way to the mess hall for the reception.

She leaves with the same sinking feeling in her chest.

---

"There's our graduate!" Maria calls, wrapping her arms around Ellie in a tight hug. "We're so proud of you, baby."

She smiles, wrapping her arms around Maria in return. "Thanks."

"So, Ellie," Tommy starts, arms crossed over his chest. "are Joel and I gon' have to put up with your ass on patrol?"

Ellie's eyes widen, turning to Joel with a grin.

He nods reluctantly. "I'll allow it, but just because you'll be with us. No one else until we think you're ready."

"Oh yeah?" She challenges. "It's your old asses that need looked after. Who's gonna retrieve you when your dementia kicks in and you forget where you are?"

Tommy scoffs, playfully rolling his eyes. "Our little comedian." He mutters.

Dina grabs Ellie from behind. "Hey, Millers. Mind if we steal her?"

Joel nods. "Please. We're gettin' sick of 'er."

Ellie gasps as Dina leads her away. "You know you love me!"

Jesse stands in the corner of the room next to the bar. Of course. He hands Dina and Ellie glasses of amber-colored liquer.

Ellie assumes it's whiskey and takes a swig. It is. She appreciates the burn as it moves its way down her throat.

Dina downs hers in one go and grimaces. "Gross."

"So," Jesse starts, taking a swig from his glass. "graduates, huh?"

"Not like it means anything." Ellie shakes her head. "Just means we don't have to suffer through school anymore."

"I'm gonna kinda miss it, though." Dina replies, arm leaning on the bar. "Not the bullying, but.. the no responsibility. Being a kid."

"Yeah," Jesse agrees, turning to order another round.

Ellie's mind wanders back to the woman's speech. "You'll face hardships, even more so than during your childhoods."

Was that true? Maybe she was just talking generally for the kids who've spent their whole lives safe in Jackson. Who've maybe never even seen an infected up close. Was that what she was referencing?

Things had already been bad. She was the only kid to come from a QZ. To know what that was like. To have to kill your best friend. To have to live with the guilt of being part of the reason why she was gone. To have that survivor's guilt that came naturally after being bit and not turning.

Was that all life was? Just waiting for things to get worse? For the other shoe to drop?

She thinks about her mom. And Tess. And Sam. And Henry. And Sarah. And Riley. Riley. Riley. Riley. Riley--

"Hey, Els," Dina says, placing a comforting hand on Ellie's arm. "are you okay?"

She feels her face. It's wet with tears. She wipes them away, hoping Dina and Jesse hadn't seen them. They did. "Yeah, fine."

Jesse's concerned gaze burns a hole through her. The room starts to feel smaller. "I'm gonna-- uh, yeah." She states, making a beeline for the door.

---

The night air isn't as cold as she'd hoped-- that had always seemed to help when it came to something like this. Panic attacks, what Joel had called them.

Joel.

Her vision flashes back to that night in Silver Lake.

Joel, lying on a dirty mattress in some abandoned basement with a nasty gash in his side.

Ellie runs, hand feeling along the buildings she passes as an attempt to keep herself grounded. It doesn't work.

Blood. Needles. Men with guns. Axes. David.

She retches into the pavement below at the thought of him.

Ellie ducks into an alleyway, back sliding against the building as she hits the ground.

I have to run. I can't breathe. He's going to kill me. He's going to do things to me. I have to run. I can't breathe.

Her hands grasp at her chest and her neck, trying something, anything that could help her catch her breath.

Her clothes are restricting. They're getting tighter.

She rips her button up off her body, desperate to be freed. The buttons pop in the process. She tosses the shirt aside.

It doesn't help.

She feels like she's sinking, falling into the ground like it's quicksand.

A call for help tears through her throat in a strangled cry, weeping for anyone to help. To save her.

Her hands grip at her hair, head falling between her knees.

I can't breathe. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't--

"... can you hear me? Ellie!" A voice echoes around her. She knows it's Joel.

She's fourteen again, in a burning building with another man's blood and bone all over her and Joel comes to her rescue.

She doesn't have the strength to lift her head. Joel does it for her.

Ellie sees his face through hazy eyes. She can see smoke-- but a gut feeling tells her that it's not real. "I can't-- I can't!"

"C'mon, baby. You can do it." Joel coaches her to breathe in and out, hand waving at who Ellie assumes is Tommy to help.

Ellie rises to her feet, but it's not by her own doing-- Joel and Tommy heft her up by her armpits, each man on either side of her.

The world around her fades to black.

---

Ellie wakes with a throbbing in her head.

She opens her eyes to see that she's in Joel's house, on the couch. Covered with her blanket.

She doesn't see Joel, or anyone else for that matter-- the only sign of other people is the soft hum of conversation coming from the kitchen.

Ellie tries to speak. Her voice is hoarse and nothing comes out at first, until she really tries. "Hello?"

Two sets of footsteps rush through the kitchen and into the living room. It's Joel and Tommy, like she expected.

"Hey, honey." Joel greets in a hushed tone, crouching down in front of her. His hand palms the top of her head in a calming gesture. "How're you feelin'?"

"Fine." Ellie swallows, attempting to sit up. Joel and Tommy both rush to help. She scowls at them. "You don't need to treat me like I'm fragile."

"We found you having a panic attack surrounded by your own vomit." Tommy interjects. "We're gonna treat you like you're fragile because right now, you are."

"I'm fine." She cuts him off, shedding the blanket. She feels her chest and neck-- both littered with small, puffy scratch marks.

"You're not fine." Joel says, a stern tone to his voice. "You blacked out. Tommy an' I had to carry you home." Ellie can tell from the small tremor in his voice that he's scared.

"It's just a panic attack. I'll be fine." Ellie sighs. She takes a second before continuing. "Thank you for lookin' out for me."

Tommy nods, eyes on Joel. "I'll leave y'all be."

Joel nods at him from his place in front of Ellie. He sighs.

"How long was I like that?" She asks quietly, eyes focused on her hands in her lap.

"Not more'n twenty minutes," Joel responds, rising to sit on the couch next to her. "You were talkin' about Silver Lake."

Ellie stills, her breath catching in her throat. "Yeah."

She feels tears well in her eyes.

"D'you think about that.. a lot?" Joel asks, head turning towards her. She avoids his gaze.

"Not.. so much anymore," She speaks, "used to, a lot. Saw it in my nightmares."

Joel acknowledges with a small hmm. "I did too, for a while." His gaze is fixed on the coffee table in front of him. "Switched between you an' Sarah, covered in blood."

Ellie lets out a quiet sob. "I'm sorry."

"You ain't gotta be sorry." He says, eyes finding hers. Ellie sees the tears in his eyes. "Nothin' you did wrong. Some people're fucked in the head."

"Yeah," She agrees through tears.

"Your life's not gonna get worse." Joel states. "I don't know what idiot thought it'd be a good idea to tell you it only gets worse from here..."

"What if it does?" She interrupts.

"It won't." Joel responds. "Not while I'm around."

The statement makes her feel a little bit better, even though they both know that Joel can't guarantee that. They've both seen too much to know that it's not the truth.

It's nice to have that false sense of security, though. She needs it.

"Okay." She nods, tears flowing freely. "You better keep that promise, old man."

"You bet your ass I will." He laughs, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

[cxffinpinnk]

ABSOLUTELY !!!! HEHEHE

AN TYSM !! IIM GLAD YOU ARE AN HONESTLY I THINK YOU SHOULD HOP ON THE BANDWAGON TOO Your writing is just as amazing an Im gen interested in what you can do !!!

YESYES YES YES THATS EXACTLY IT !! People who struggle with what the Questers go through can really bring out the character as a whole an it can make it 10x better, imo its better than a majority of what ppl do I will say this, I REALLY have a bone to pick with how a majority of the fandom treats Cuphead/how they rite him for their rmks, cause it always feels like they're just making him out to be an asshole an/or a sex prop (Im hypersexual an have suffered from it since I was 4. That shit is NOT funny.) , not even that but just completely strip him of his character or make fun of it completely an say "OH WELL MY VER. IS BETTER!" when all it is is a shell of what Cupheads meant to be. The amount of times Ive been icked over how someone writes him is boggling, tbh I judge ppl a little based on how they treat him an I only let in those who understand him

WE ALL ARE!! We all are snowflakes, everyone is unique in their own ways an theres a character out there for everyone to really shine through with how they are as a person <333

TOUCHING ON YOUR TAGS;

The fact his attempt gets made into a big joke is absolutely gross an disgusting, I have no idea why ppl think its okay to shame it. YES ! It wasnt that well written, NOT AN EXCUSE TO MAKE FUN OF IT !! Theres a plethora of ways suicide can be brought about an that was HIS. WAY. OF SHOWING IT. After a full ep of clear psychosis he finally let his emotions out but it was so bottled up he couldn't take it. He literally thought he lost his brother, his only family, an had a vali reason to almost end his life. It feels like nobody gets that at all, the lack of empathy ppl have is disturbing .... I can go on a full rant about it but thats for a post after this lmao

The stripper au DONT. GET ME STARTED HOLY SHIT.

THE LOLICONING OF BENDY, CUPHEAD, ALMOST EVERYONE HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT WAS THE MOST DISGUSTING SHIT EVER. rvpe an abuse is NEVER funny an the fact that it was brought about the way it was is sickening. The shit with Mickey I FUCKING HATTTEEEEEEEE HIM. I SEETH AT THE SIGHT OF HIM HE ISNT ALLAT. I FEEL HORRIBLE FOR BOREESE AN THE OTHER KIDS IN THE AU.

NOT ALSO SAYING THE SHIT W FELIX AN OSWALD WAS RAW PROOF THAT THEY WERE NOTHING BUT THE DOGSHIT YAOI PLOT FOR TGR. ITS SO GROSS YYUCK

Cups pisses me off sm in that au but not bc he was annoying, but cause he was watered down to a sex martyr who bangs the loli of the crew. bringing it up again, as a hypersexual that shit makes me visceral, HOW DARE HER FOR DRAWING HIM LIKE THAT. AT ALL. I DO NOT FUUCKKKKING CARE IF THE "CUPS IS A BOYKISSER!!! UWU ALFA YAOI DADDY" CROWD IS ANGRY I WILL NEVER GET OVER HOW HE WAS DEPICTED IN THAT AU. EVER.

UGH.

I will keep writing an loving him, I WILL CAUSE HE DESERVES ATTENTION THAT WAS NEEDED FOR THE LONGEST TIME !! He'll always have a very special place in my heart an I will always value ppl who write him with care and attentiveness <3

Cuphead appreciates it too, I can't speak for him but Im most confident he likes your depiction of him, Ill let him say that for himself lmao

Absolutely !!! <33

It's interesting needing to be specific whenever I bring up a character, like I have to say "in Quest" basically any time I note something, because holy shit I'd sound insane if I said some of the shit that is canon in Quest without saying that.

Just imagine not knowing what Quest is but knowing what Bendy is and you hear "Yeah, Bendy is basically a playboy who acts like every women is walking boobs and he drinks a lot, he usually does all this around his 12 year old brother"..... you'd be so fucking horrified and confused as to where that fucking came from 💀💀

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

A comment from @hockeytwittereats just made me think of what an unexpected source of comfort it must have turned into for Taylor to have the B stage to start processing her feelings in real time as she was going through things during that first leg of Eras and how that may have even dovetailed into her creative streak (and frenzy) writing TTPD

[shattered-eluvian]

man... I love dragon age.

[fossilizedhysterics]

i dont have the energy to write a whole post abt it so have me live tweeting while i watched the new video 🙏

[bi-writes]

i see people on here getting angry because of how cod writers can make cod men angry, toxic, mean, etc, and idk how to tell people this but…they’re not real

[poisonouspastels]

[madeimpact]

Y'know I think it could be interesting to write a thread where my little man just gets to go completely apeshit. The problem is it takes a LOT to get him to that point. But it can be done

[fragmentedblade]

I've actually found a coherent (negative) criticism on Jingli.u's quest!! Wow!! It's in Chinese on weibo

This user said her behaviour is very double standard. That she criticises and condemns both Dan Fen.g and Yingx.ing severely for trying to bring back Bai.heng in any way, but then she goes to visit Bail.u and tells her that seeing her is better than any medicine. And the user is right! That's exactly why they did what they did (well, I've always been of the opinion that Dan Fen.g had more reasons going on based on the in game information), so why the insistent asking to Blade?

The user also says that Jingliu doesn't really behave at all like a friend, that while very believable that she loved and was close to Bai.heng, it's hard to believe the same thing when it comes to Yingxi.ng and Dan Fen.g. They said that nowadays we still see instances through the Xianzhou in which they are both spoken about in positive terms, that Yingxi.ng is talked about as a legendary furnace master, and we can even stumble upon good opinions on Dan Fen.g, but that Jingli.u never shows that kind of understanding for people in theory she loved, knew personally and was close to.

I don't agree entirely with this, I do think there was a lot of fondness from Jingliu shining through despite everything (especially towards Yin.gxing, in my opinion), but I do think it's a somewhat fair criticism. I loved how they mention that despite everything the Xianzhou's view on Yingxin.g and Dan Fen.g isn't just negative. They're right, and it's a detail I love.

[rfaromance]

psa

I will note that for both of these fics, while I will cross-post the first chapter here on tumblr, the fic will largely be on ao3.

My ao3 is currently locked to users only, given the rise of people using AI to mistreat writers :) so if you do not have an ao3, you will not get the full content.

I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I refuse to let AI spit on my blood, sweat, and tears to make cheap imitations of my style. Writers AND artists suffer from the proliferation of bots like chatGPT, AI profile pic generators, and the like. STOP using them, or you WILL lose access to real art and writing.

Treat us like people or we will lock away our content, and those of us actually in the creative industry for a living will strike. (Gestures at the WGA strike in the USA.)

Thanks for reading. :)